"Where is your father?"

"He was captured and died as a soldier in the Western Di campaign."

"...And your mother?"

"She died, starved to death..."

"What about your land?"

"After my father died, it became someone else's."

"!!! Who dared to take over the land?"

"It was someone from a powerful family."

"............"

A thin and weak child wolfed down his dry bread while the Emperor's expedition against the Western Di had been going on for many years, with heavy conscription and rampant plague. People in such circumstances were no longer rare. The young Taoist with a wooden staff and a patched robe on his face grew dim.

Seeing that the child was clearly starving but still had half of his food left, the Taoist forced a smile and asked, "Why aren't you eating?"

The child carefully tucked the bread into his pocket and said, "My mother said to save some for the next meal. Being hungry every meal is better than being full for one meal and then starving to death."

His voice paused, filled with confusion. But his mother always saved some food for each meal, and yet she still starved to death. It seemed that what his mother said wasn't entirely correct, but since his mother died of hunger and he was still alive, what she said seemed right.

Starvation had no warmth, no way to speak anymore, and his hands were cold.

When his mother, who could carry him everywhere, fell down, a thin straw mat had already covered her.

As the child spoke, the young Taoist's lips trembled, and a trace of sorrow appeared on his face. The two other Taoists beside him fell silent, as did the tall middle-aged man with an angry expression. He punched a tree nearby with a loud crack, breaking it.

The child's eyes showed some regret.

It was a willow tree. The taste of willow bark was quite good, and the newly sprouted buds were delicious. But now that it was broken, they couldn't eat it anymore.

The young Taoist silently rubbed the child's head and asked, "What is your name?"

The child replied, "Shui Gouzi."

The young Taoist said, "...What kind of name is that?"

The child said, "My mother said that people like us should have humble names to survive."

The young Taoist fell silent. He sighed and exchanged glances with his two younger brothers and the bandit they had captured. While the child slept, they quietly discussed what to do with him. They couldn't just leave him alone, but they couldn't take him with them either.

In the midst of the current epidemic, especially in Jizhou, they planned to go there to treat the people. With the child's weak constitution, he might not survive more than a few days in such a place. After some discussion, they decided to leave the child with a family who had once received their kindness.

They also gave half of their money to the family.

To take care of the child.

Then they set off for Jizhou. However, they didn't expect that after resting in the wilderness for a night, they would find the child again the next day, dirty and following them like a stubborn little beast. This time, the middle-aged man didn't ignore him and rushed over to pick up the child.

Looking at the child, Zhang Jiao opened his mouth and said, "The place we're going is very dangerous..."

The child said seriously, "If I follow you, I can have food."

Zhang Jiao couldn't find the words to say. He wanted to say that even if the child stayed behind, there would still be food, but when he looked into the child's eyes, he didn't know how to explain.

The middle-aged man lifted the child up, looked at him, and suddenly shouted, "You little brat, how did you lose all your money? Why do you only have a few big pancakes left?!" He reached into the child's pocket but only found a few pancakes. The child smiled and held up the pancakes preciously, saying, "These can be eaten. They won't starve me."

His voice paused. "My mother said, never starve to death..."

The middle-aged man opened his mouth but could only sigh and grumble. The Emperor's campaign against the Western Di and the extravagance of the court had led to extremely high taxes. Zhang Jiao reached out and touched the child's tender hair, saying, "Then come with me..."

"Do you remember your last name?"

The child shook his head in a naive manner, leaving the middle-aged man frustrated. He knew all the child cared about was eating. Zhang Jiao smiled and said, "Family names are important to the people of Shen Zhou. I can't give you one randomly, but we can change your given name."

"Water ditch is a place for storing water. If it doesn't dry up for thousands of years, it becomes a deep abyss."

"Would you like to be called 'Yuan'?"

The child didn't know anything and just nodded blankly. The big man burst into laughter and put the young child on his shoulder. While the court ignored the epidemic in Jizhou, Zhang Jiao led his brothers and followers into the heart of the plague.

As the situation changed, the Taoist named Zhang Jiao used herbs and talismans to treat the epidemic. However, officials mocked him, saying it was witchcraft and had no benefit. But in that era when the plague was considered a deadly disease, the court sealed off the affected areas, and only he went against the tide.

Someone asked him why he did it, for fame or for profit.

The young Taoist always smiled and said, "To heal the sick and save lives."

Indeed...

In the eyes of the aristocracy, risking their lives for a few commoners was foolish. At present, the worries of the courtiers were the eunuchs and the powerful families. Figures like Lu Zhi and Wang Yun were concerned about the fate of the Han Dynasty, loyal in appearance and in heart, filled with emotions.

They worried about the young Emperor being deceived by those eunuchs and powerful families, and how they could revive the great Han Dynasty.The young Taoist treated these seriously ill people and also relieved their grievances, telling them that the dragon veins of the Great Han Dynasty were still thriving and that the epidemic was only temporary. He assured them that once the current emperor eliminated the treacherous officials and reorganized everything, everything would gradually improve.

"To survive, as long as we survive, we will always be able to see hope."

There were also many people who had lost their parents and joined Zhang Jiao's sect. He treated them all equally.

As for the child named Ayuan, his body was weak and seemed to have suffered from a serious illness when he was young. He had congenital deficiencies and did not receive good care afterwards. He often coughed. Liu Niu, who was with Zhang Jiao, was a strong man who used to be a bandit and couldn't stand the sight of this sickly child.

He trained this stinky kid every day to strengthen his body.

He scolded and complained, but always found a way to give the kid extra meals after each training session.

He would catch a rabbit or a sparrow, and he always managed to find various kinds of food.

This period of time was the happiest time in Ayuan's memory. He had many playmates, senior brothers, and Uncle Niu who would exercise with him. Uncle Niu would carry him on his shoulders and take him everywhere to see things. Although there was an epidemic, many people were still cured under Zhang Jiao's medical skills.

The old man next door even taught Ayuan how to find edible plants and flowers.

He told him that malt was actually very sweet.

Ayuan was curious. If he couldn't even eat wheat, how could he eat malt?

The old man's eyes always became complicated.

Ayuan looked at Liu Niu beside him and asked, "Uncle Niu, did I say something wrong?"

Liu Niu sighed, "You didn't say anything wrong. What's wrong is this world. Those noble people don't care about our lives. I heard that sometimes they have banquets where the meat they throw away can fill a room, and the wine they pour out can fill a barrel."

The old man quickly stopped Liu Niu and said, "What are you talking about?"

Then he smiled and patted Ayuan's head, pointing to his small pocket and said, "It's nothing. It's just like what Mr. Zhang said. Our Great Han Dynasty has gone through so many years. The emperor and the noble people must be thinking about how to get through these difficulties. Everything will be fine. Now, I'm saving some wheat as seeds. Hehe, when the time comes, grandpa will teach you how to eat malt."

Ayuan's eyes lit up and he nodded heavily.

The old man was in a good mood.

Then, after some time, Zhang Jiao successfully cured the people nearby and left the place to travel and save people. When he left, the people sent him off for a long distance. Ayuan saw the Taoist smile, with shallow dimples on his cheeks.

Zhang Jiao rubbed his head and said, "Just take it slow. The Great Han Dynasty will surely prosper."

But that summer, there was a severe drought throughout the country, and large areas of land yielded no harvest.

Zhang Jiao's reputation as a wise man even attracted followers among the officials of noble families. Zhang Jiao hurriedly went to a noble family to borrow grain with his disciples. The children of that noble family treated Zhang Jiao with great respect. The table was filled with all kinds of dishes, and there was even the sound of music and instruments. In such a place, the Taoists dressed in coarse cloth looked extremely ugly and conspicuous.

Ayuan heard faint laughter.

He felt a bit inferior, lowered his head, and saw the beautiful silk clothes worn by the dancing girls. He looked at his own shoes with exposed toes and felt embarrassed and uncomfortable. He noticed that Tang Zhou, the senior brother next to him, stared at the beautiful and attractive dancing girl without blinking.

The other Taoists remained calm and composed.

But when they asked for help for the disaster-stricken people, they were met with excuses.

Those people started saying something again. The Indian monk translated the Prajnaparamita Sutra and received a large amount of gold, silver, and treasures as rewards.

It was also heard that in the capital city of Luoyang, several high-ranking officials proposed to revise the seven classics of poetry, books, changes, annals, Gongyang's Commentary, rites, and Confucian Analects. Forty-six stone tablets were carved over a period of eight years. They were arranged in the shape of a box, with a roof covering the top and railings on both sides. Every day, the children of noble families went to watch, and there were more than a thousand carriages.

Those people who wore luxurious silk clothes and had fair skin said.

This was a great event that created and continued the literary tradition, and it would be remembered for generations to come.

It was immeasurable merit.

During the banquet, Ayuan curiously took a bite of meat and was stunned.

When the banquet ended, he pulled Zhang Jiao's sleeve and said, "Master, master."

"Is this meat?!"

"We can actually eat meat..."

"I'm eating it for the first time, and it's so delicious..."

Faced with many difficulties, the Taoists remained calm and composed, their demeanor surpassing that of many so-called important figures. Suddenly, the Taoist burst into tears, wiped his eyes with his sleeve, and pulled Ayuan, saying, "We have borrowed grain. Let's go to Jizhou..."

.................

They returned to the place they had been before with the grain.

Zhang Jiao's eyes brightened, and he didn't stop along the way. As for the weak Ayuan, he was carried by Liu Niu and rushed back without stopping. However, they did not see familiar faces when they arrived. The village and town that had already been cured were now deserted.

Zhang Jiao hurriedly stopped someone and pointed to the place where the familiar people used to live, asking, "Excuse me, where are the people from this family?"

The person numbly replied, "Oh, Old Zhou died. He starved to death."

Zhang Jiao opened his mouth wide, "All these people..."

The person said, "Yes, they starved to death.""There's no harvest this year, and the imperial court has raised the taxes again. It seems that His Majesty the Emperor wants to build gardens and erect stone monuments. All these require money, so naturally, they have to collect more taxes. Our food has been taken away, and we have nothing to eat. We can only starve to death, and once we die, our lands can be seized..."

The young Taoist staggered backward, suddenly feeling dizzy.

The people he had saved from severe illness were now dying of starvation. Yet, how much food and wine were discarded daily by the wealthy households? How much was bestowed upon foreign monks and scholars for their work?

Every word in the flourishing literary works represented a person who had starved or died on the battlefield against the Western Di tribes.

Ah Yuan found the old man's house, which was empty.

He took out a piece of rotten meat from his sleeve and gently placed it in front of the door.

He squatted in front of the house.

"Grandpa..."

"It's not just malt."

"Meat is also sweet."

"And, we can eat meat too, and noodles..."

...

After a long drought, it finally rained a little.

The Taoist in the simple linen robe stood silently in the rain. He looked up at the sky, lost and confused. What was he doing? What was the point of the people he had saved struggling so hard to survive, only to live like livestock and then die after a hard struggle?

The world was seriously ill.

Ah Yuan would never forget.

The Taoist stood in the rain, and slowly, people in linen clothes appeared. A glimmer of hope emerged on their numb faces. They found broken umbrellas and things to shield them from the rain, gathering around the Taoist.

Shielding him from the wind and rain.

One, ten, a hundred.

Until countless people.

The gathered fabrics of various colors and broken umbrellas looked like the vast sky.

If you haven't seen the longing in countless people's eyes, you can't understand what sorrow is. People lost in darkness will rush towards even the slightest light. The Taoist turned around and saw the silent people behind him, their eyes full of longing.

He thought of the precepts of Taoism.

No, no.

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Zhang Jue fell silent, and he reached out to those people—

How could he refuse...

Moths will rush to the flame.

And the flame will eventually burn out.

Those who can illuminate others in the darkness cannot make a second choice at this moment. If not, he would no longer be that flame.

...

"No!!"

"As a disciple of Taoism, meddling with fate will ruin your cultivation, let alone doing what you're doing... you..."

Zhang Bao and Zhang Liang, who had always believed in their elder brother, were furious this time.

"Big brother, do you know what you're doing?!"

Zhang Jue put his hand on his brother's shoulder and said, "I know."

The Taoist who had once ventured into the land of severe illness answered—

"Healing the sick, saving people."

Zhang Bao and Zhang Liang were suddenly speechless.

So he walked towards the forefront of this era, dividing into thirty-six canal leaders, among which Liu Niu was one. But this man scratched his head and laughed, "Great sage, I'm just a rough man, not qualified to lead others. I can fight, but I can't be a canal leader. Let Ah Yuan take the lead."

The boy named Ah Yuan was stunned, then blushed.

Liu Niu waved his hand, his bull's eyes glaring, "Shut up, kid!"

Ah Yuan obediently quieted down.

Liu Niu looked at Zhang Jue and grinned, "Great sage, I've watched this kid grow up. I've fought for a place, but he's still young. I hope he can see a better future. Besides, if he can leave his name in the world, it's a good thing. Please give him a title..."

He kindly patted Ah Yuan on the head.

Zhang Jue slowly nodded. He was a true cultivator. He casually broke a piece of thatch and let Ah Yuan hold it for divination. When he saw the result, Zhang Jue was stunned, and the others were also taken aback. Then they all laughed because the name divined had the title of a Han official.

And it was the same for several times in a row.

Zhang Jue simply didn't hesitate anymore.

Then, he gave Ah Yuan the title of canal leader—

Si Li.

In the end, the young Taoist who once had high hopes for the Han Dynasty set the code for the uprising—

The sky is dead!

PS: Thanks to the alliance leader of 'How Different the Wind Rises'

The second update, 4600 words~

After all, I don't know enough about this period of history, so I can only give a rough idea. If there are mistakes in the details, please forgive me~

But Emperor Ling of Han was really something, tsk tsk tsk, la ah...

Among the few books that recorded the names of the Yellow Turban Army in history, there were seventy generals, some of whom only had their names recorded, without detailed experiences or follow-up stories. Among the thirteen Yellow Turban generals in Ji Province, one was Si Li, the Colonel Director of Retainers.