Over the next ten years, Taihao devoted all his energy to governing the small city. He led the people in reclaiming farmland, improving agricultural tools, dredging rivers, and reinforcing the city walls.
He rose before dawn every day and did not return to his room until after dark, so exhausted that he fell asleep the moment his head hit the bed.
The people of the city saw it all and remembered it in their hearts.
Though this young city lord was still young, he worked even harder than his father had.
When Taihao turned eighteen, the small city finally caught its breath.
The granaries were full, the city walls stood taller, and the population had risen from three thousand to nearly five thousand.
The neighboring cities no longer dared attack so casually, because Taihao had set up ten catapults atop the walls. Whoever dared come would be smashed.
But Taihao was not satisfied.
He knew that relying only on farming and defense, this city would forever remain nothing more than a small city.
He wanted more—more people, broader lands, greater strength.
He needed an opportunity.
One night, Taihao had a dream.
In the dream, there was a great river. An enormous turtle rose from its depths, carrying a ball of light on its back.
That ball of light flew before Taihao and transformed into a scroll.
The scroll unfurled, revealing dense symbols and lines across its surface.
Taihao could not understand those symbols, yet he felt as though he had seen them somewhere before. It was as if he had known them long, long ago.
In the dream, he reached out and touched the book.
The book became a streak of light and entered his brow.
Taihao woke from the dream with a start, drenched in sweat.
There was something