It took Zhang Yang an entire month to restore the qi and blood he had depleted, but the lifespan he had lost could never be recovered.
Thus, after secluding himself for eleven months, he finally emerged.
The outside world was not like the old saying, "Seven days in a cave, a thousand years in the world." It had merely grown slightly more prosperous.
The royal palace had also basically been completed. This had been the joint decision of Zhang Liang, Wu Ya, and Zhao Zhou. Ever since Zhang Yang had laid his cards on the table with them, they had been more than eager to act.
Zhang Liang was primarily in charge of internal affairs. Over the past year, he had registered all nearly one hundred and sixty thousand refugees and meticulously divided them into farmers, artisans, hunters, merchants, and soldiers. These categories were neither hereditary nor restrictive, and people were free to move between them.
Besides that, he had traversed the mountains and forests around the royal city, finally marking out three county cities three hundred li northeast of it. Taking advantage of the convenient roads, he had launched a massive effort to reclaim farmland and build villages and towns there.
In short, no matter how much grain was stored in the royal city's granaries, Zhang Yang had one principle: with fields in hand, one's heart stayed calm.
Wu Ya, meanwhile, had indeed brought out the five hundred qilin-like spirit beasts he had kept hidden, forming one thousand Iron Lions, along with 3,500 Antler Light Cavalry. Ten months ago, they had set out without hesitation, carrying supplies and provisions. This truly suited his usual spirit of waging war abroad.
The expedition had now been underway for ten months, yet no news had been sent back, and there was no