Peace at any time seems to be only a façade, like a fig leaf, and you never know what kind of ugliness and squalor is hidden behind it.

However, what the world sees in the eyes of the world is still that image of peace, or when they see something, they pretend not to see it, and they do not want to pierce it, and they dare not pierce it.

People who are struggling at the bottom of society are still thinking about life and death for a moment, and no one will sympathize with them, even they themselves are close to giving up. The world is like this, but there is nothing to say.

A place in the northwest, Jingzhao Mansion, the thousand-year-old capital of Chang'an, is now quite desolate. Since the seventh year of Chunyuan, the wind and sand that swept through the entire northwest began, after half a year of war, a large number of displaced people came to Lanzhou, Xizhou and other places, and a small number of people fled from Xining Prefecture. They came from the far northwest of the new dynasty, and they had experienced so much along the way that words like displacement were not enough to describe it, but in the end they arrived. But what if you arrive?

Compared with Weizhou and Xizhou, the imperial court thought that it was a waste of food to relieve them, and this part of the people were blocked out of the city, and some of them could still talk about "morality", so they continued to go south, and the rest of them, whether they couldn't walk, or didn't want to go anymore, stayed, and in the following days, they gradually rubbed with other disasters, and small-scale armed fights were quietly staged.

These hungry ghosts in the real sense rushed into the porridge shed of the government with their last remaining strength, and in a panic, some people were killed by officers and soldiers, or killed by "companions" who also grabbed food, or were "strung to death", and after a few days of tossing, there were only a few of these people left.

Later, due to the differential treatment of the authorities, these people finally had the determination to entangle themselves after struggling, and gradually gathered more victims, as if they had become a small force. Jingzhao Mansion then sent troops to suppress it, and at this time, Xiliang came over again.

The northwest land, which was originally uninhabited, was like a woman who had been ravaged without the slightest power to resist, revealing her tired body, and was once again crushed into slag by Xiliang Bingfeng.

These original hungry ghosts, and later rebellions, were wiped out in this war. There are only a few sentences in the official paperwork, but no one knows what kind of tragedy it is for those who have experienced it firsthand.

Han Shu came from Kyoto, and when he entered Jingzhao Mansion with his attendants, he stopped under the desolate and old city tower, looked up at the row of human heads on the city gate tower that could no longer see their original appearance, and was silent for a long time.

As a privy envoy, he once stayed in the North, presided over the battles against Xiliang and Beirong, and saw the real storms. It's just that the mountain of blood and corpses seems to be pale and powerless in front of these heads.

He knew that those were once the people of the new dynasty, but now because of the operation of some people in the court, they have become exiles from the people, and then directly become rebels.

Wang Shao, the prefect of Jingzhao Mansion, was in front of the building early and spoke: "The northwest is now at peace."

That was last year!

In the middle of March of the first year of Shenwu, Han Shu stood on top of the city tower, and the human head hanging in front of him had already been taken off, and he didn't know where to throw it to feed the beast.

The wind swept the yellow sand, and in the gray world, he stared. He had already received the documents from the imperial court, and he himself had no idea what might happen next.

Since he left Beijing, there was originally one vacant in the court, and now that Lu Xiang has resigned, and another one has been vacant, the future court situation will definitely be firmly held by those people.

Thinking so, with a wry smile, he looked to the north.

The northwest can be said to be the most well-equipped region, but after a few battles, the soldiers are tired and tired, and now they really can't fight anymore, but the autumn is coming soon, and this apparent peace has no meaning.

There was always an invisible hand behind him, about to tear through the deep night and wreak havoc on this desolate borderland.

Many things, at their level, have actually had other considerations.

As the most powerful civil official in the northwest at the moment, Han Shu probably wants to do something.

Then, he turned around and went down the city tower, and explained to the entourage waiting below: "You go and prepare, tomorrow I will visit King Liang."

At the same time, on the lonely long street, on a corner covered with yellow sand, the gray eyes of several ragged beggars suddenly lit up, and each nodded his head, and his thin hands reached into the torn clothes, and bowed down the street.

Han Shu came from the long street, his palace was located in the center, and the street he walked through was called Suzaku Street, and at the end was the palace of the former dynasty and even the former dynasty. The Yamen of Jingzhao Mansion was on the edge of the imperial city, and he was working there at this time.

Suzaku Street is no longer prosperous.

Whether it is the shops on the side of the street, the house of the prince and grandson has become a thing of the past, at this time it seems to be a withered scene, after the war, few people in the city dare to go out, so except for beggars, there are basically no people.

Suddenly hearing a violent sound, Han Shu woke up in shock, followed the sound, and a figure sprang out from the corner not far away, and on the thin and yellow face, the eyes full of grief and indignation were particularly conspicuous.

The man held a sharp blade in his hand, and a harsh ray of light reflected in the sunlight. In the blink of an eye, it was close.

After all, Han Shu had led the soldiers, reacted, and dodged sideways, the man's blade passed sideways, stumbled, fell to the ground, and the whole person twitched a few times.

At this moment, several other people who were hiding also rushed out, staring at him with resentful eyes, eager to eat his flesh, although Han Shu was a civil official, he would not be frightened by this kind of formation, of course, it was definitely impossible to really go up and fight, and now seeing that the other party was yellow and thin, he looked like he was physically exhausted, he turned around and ran, but he didn't care about the etiquette of the officials.

Several people chased after them, and they worked hard to burst out the last strength of this life.

The sword light and sword shadow are also staged at this moment.

On a teahouse in the distance, a purple-robed middle-aged man holding a clairvoyant mirror saw Han Shu being chased out of half the street, and smiled: "It's rare to see."

Behind him, a young man in his twenties smiled bitterly and reminded, "Father, should we make a move?"

The middle-aged man in the purple robe replied: "No need, the yamen is in sight, and Han Xianggong will not have an accident."

The young man glanced helplessly at the distance, and he couldn't compliment his father in his heart.

He even felt that those people were sent out by the person in front of him, who was a prince but had no scruples about his identity.

Well, with such a father, he can only accept his fate.