Behind Zhao Cheng, Li Tonghai followed all the way. Though he had long since learned the state of the city over the past month, seeing it again on this journey still filled his heart with admiration.
For the past several years, ever since Yellow Heaven had turned from victory to decline, he had been racking his brains over the matter—what exactly had caused such a splendid situation to collapse in an instant?
Yet constrained by the limitations of the age, he could only conclude that the favorable time had been lost.
If the favorable time had not been lost, then why would so many cities that had already surrendered turn directly to the imperial court?!
Li Tonghai was naturally a clever man. He knew that behind this were local powers and great aristocratic clans, swaying like grass on a wall. Such people could neither be relied upon nor trusted.
Yet if one wished to rule all under Heaven, one had no choice but to depend on them.
After all, without their help, even if cities were conquered, where would the talented people to govern them come from?!
As for cultivating talent oneself, throughout the ages, any great undertaking had taken merely ten or twenty years from beginning to end.
And in those ten or twenty years, the first few years, or even more than a decade, were often spent struggling along in mediocrity, with little territory and few troops. Then, upon encountering one's moment of fortune, one would suddenly soar into the heavens and transform into a dragon, winning battle after battle and acquiring vast lands and countless armies in the blink of an eye.
When one's territory was small, there was no capital for cultivation. By the time one's territory grew large, there was no longer time to cultivate.