"System, what's going on? The low dimension is actually the historical dynasty of the high dimensional world? ”

Zhang Zicheng frowned, and was a little unacceptable for a while.

Because since it is a historical dynasty that has appeared in reality, as long as time passes, wouldn't it really be able to come to the modern era in which you live?

In that case, will all history be repeated?

However, as soon as the words were asked, he had not received a systematic reply, and Zhang Zicheng remembered the Three Kingdoms-themed war game he played some time ago.

Perhaps, this is not some so-called history, but a low dimension formed by works such as the Romance of the Three Kingdoms in high dimensions?

The system's answer corroborates Zhang Zicheng's guess: [High-dimensional information will escape into the low-dimensional, and if there is no other information interference, it is possible to roughly restore high-dimensional history. 】

[As long as the environmental conditions are similar to those of the high dimension, then the final development of events will most likely force the trajectory of the high dimensional history to converge. Some worlds will refer to this phenomenon as 'luck', 'destiny', 'calamity', 'national fortune', 'destiny', and so on. 】

[However, the historical figures in it will be more inclined to the overall cognition of high-dimensional people than the official history.] But it will not deviate too much from the real image, and the weight will be about half and half, and it may fluctuate according to popularity. 】

Zhang Zicheng breathed a sigh of relief.

It seems that it is only because there are many modern works on the theme of the Three Kingdoms, not real history, but the ancient earth influenced by the games, films, novels and other high-dimensional information that has diverged from "Romance of the Three Kingdoms" to the present.

While Zhang Zicheng was talking to the system, in the computer monitor, Zhang Jiao had already made more than a dozen bowls of runic water and distributed them to the people in the village.

Fu Shui was drawn from the well in the village, and one of Zhang Jiao's attendants, who didn't look very old, said strangely: "Great sage and good teacher, there is obviously a well in this village, why do these people look so thirsty?" ”

Zhang Jiao used a brush to stain some cinnabar in a small bag, and drew something on a piece of withered yellow straw paper.

Hearing what the entourage said, he put down the brush and shook his head and said, "I don't know, let's find someone to ask." ”

As he spoke, he twisted the charm in his hand and ignited it in mid-air, and the ashes of the plants and trees fell into the water bowl beside him.

Zhang Jiao got up with the bowl and turned around, and saw an equally skinny old man lying by the well.

The strange thing is that within ten feet of this old man, there are no other people huddled together to keep warm, so he is so lonely guarding the well.

Zhang Jiao carefully lifted the old man with white hair and withered grass, fed him a mouthful of runic water, and asked softly, "Uncle, are you feeling better?" ”

The old man was sipping the water, and the flow of water could be clearly seen on the shriveled skin.

If you cut this membrane, there will probably not be the slightest flesh and blood flowing out, but it will only leak out of your mouth like a broken water bladder.

Their flesh and blood seem to have been sucked dry by something.

After the old man drank the water, he gasped lightly, trembling and wanted to make a move, but was stopped by Zhang Jiao, barely opened his wrinkled eyelids, and only said: "It's much better, it's much better, thank you Dao Chief, thank you Dao Chief." ”

Zhang Jiao nodded, looking at the old man's appearance, he didn't want to ask more, but the other people's state was not much better. And this old man was the closest to the well, so he must know more things.

But Zhang Jiao had more questions to ask than the well, and couldn't help but ask: "With such a big epidemic, has the imperial court allocated funds or sent people?" ”

When the old man heard this, he hurriedly said, "Yes, yes, and I came twice." ”

As he spoke, he turned his head to look at the hungry people in the village, his eyes were dry, like dried and wrinkled white grapes, and he said hoarsely: "The first time I came, it was when I planted in spring. ”

"They took away the young men in the village, saying that they were going to serve as conscripts and go to fight Xiqiang."

"Some people's homes are just a pillar of the family, and after they are taken away, many fields are deserted. Ahem......"

The old man coughed a few times, and Zhang Jiao hurriedly calmed him down.

After a few breaths, the old man was tired and said: "At that time, my second baby didn't want to go, because his eldest brother died early, and when his mother gave birth to his third brother more than ten years ago, the mother and son left together, leaving our father and son to survive." ”

"I am stubborn, he is reluctant to me, and he is afraid that I will run out of food. I wanted to wait for the spring planting before leaving, but the two sentences were wrong, and I had a conflict with the official master, and then my head was cut off. ”

"The official took the head of my second baby, walked around the village, and said that whoever dares to resist will be the end, and finally threw the head of my second baby into the well. The people in the village couldn't help it, so they left the field and followed them. ”

The old man's words were calm and did not fluctuate, but when he heard this, his eyes couldn't help but widen, and his hands clenched his fists uncontrollably.

"Later, I fished the second baby's head out of the well. But I don't know if the second baby has a grievance, and as soon as the people in the village drink water, they start to get sick. ”

The old man turned his head, looked at the overgrown well not far away, and said helplessly: "I told my baby, second baby, my father is sorry for you, but the people in the village are not sorry for you." If you have grievances, come to your father, don't be angry with the villagers, they are all poor people, and they can't ......"

"But I was stubborn and didn't listen to persuasion, so more and more people in the village got sick, so I went door to door and kowtow to make amends. There were two kind-hearted families, so they only scolded me twice, but later they still fell ill and died. ”

"Later, the poor master came again. said that he wanted to collect taxes, and the emperor seemed to carve some merit monument, so the summer rent was overcharged by 30 percent...... I told my master that the people in the village were sick and had no strength to farm, so there was no harvest this year. ”

Speaking of this, the old man's expression was a little depressed, and he couldn't see sadness, but more like he was dazed and incomprehensible.

When the poor master heard this, he didn't believe it at first, but then he did. I discussed it with the people around me, and finally they said: Since there is a plague in the village, then collect the autumn tax in advance, so as not to evade taxes when we die, and they will not have to come again. ”

"I said, how can there be such a reason? The villagers also made trouble, but then a lot of people died, and there was no way, so they gave it. ”

Zhang Jiao's breathing became heavy.

He gritted his teeth and trembled slightly.

And the entourage behind Zhang Jiao was even more angry, gritting their teeth, eager to choose someone to eat.

The old man's words were very organized, and the logic of his speech was very clear, and it seemed that there was nothing wrong with it.

But Zhang Jiao's reaction was so big, but he didn't feel it at all, which showed that he was extremely slow to react to the outside world.

The old man raised his head, looked at the well not far away, and said vaguely: "Dao Chief, you say, why is my baby so angry?" ”

"If he doesn't get angry, he can still have the strength to plant some land in the village. Although most of them have to be taken away, they can also keep two more mouthfuls......"

Zhang Jiao forcibly suppressed his emotions and said with a forced smile: "Uncle, you misunderstood, your baby's temper is not big, and he is very filial." The water I just gave you to drink is this well water. ”

"It's just that the water in the well is not clean, and the plague from other places has come from the ground, and your child has been fighting the plague in the well."

"Not only did he not harm anyone, but he also had merit ......"

Speaking of this, Zhang Jiao's head was confused, and he only felt that it was white, and he didn't know what he was talking about.

But as soon as the old man heard about his son, he was extremely focused, and after listening carefully to what Zhang Jiao said, a trace of hope appeared on his face: "Really? ”

"Isn't my baby harming people?"

Zhang Jiao was speechless, so he could only keep nodding.

The old man showed a hint of a smile, and his dry eyes finally had some brilliance.

He whispered, "Yes, yes." ”

Immediately, close your eyes.

Zhang Jiao was silent, silent.

He felt the old man's bones spread out in his arms. It seems that between each bone, the interconnected muscles are broken.

With a trembling hand, Zhang Jiao slowly placed the old man on the straw mat.

Then, in a gesture that bordered on struggle, he stood up from the ground.

He turned his head slowly, and his eyes, which seemed to have seen the vicissitudes of the world, swept towards the hungry people around him, and his eyes contained indescribable pathos.

This kind of pathos is like a dark cloud.

Hidden rain, hidden thunder.