Shen Le slowly opened his eyes and smiled faintly.
Beneath his hand, the Pottery House gave off a warm, gentle glow. It practically clung to his fingers of its own accord, conveying waves of warmth and joy.
Peaceful, gentle, reassuring... It seemed to be saying:
"Good job!"
"Really? You think I did well too?"
Smiling, Shen Le stroked the roof beneath his hand. This journey through time—or rather, this entry into the Pottery House's memories—had indeed gone very well:
He had turned the tide, helping the Shen Family resolve its greatest crisis, then helping them seize their greatest opportunity. He had aided Sima Rui's move south, allowing him to reach Jianye earlier and begin calmly laying his plans sooner;
Then, he had helped consolidate the fleet, leading the aristocratic families, their relatives, retainers, and refugees who had departed from Langya southward at the fastest speed and with the least possible loss;
After that, he had seized every opportunity to shuttle back and forth between the Central Plains and Jianye, bringing wave after wave of fleeing civilians across...
Over the long four years of the Yongjia Southern Migration, the Shen Family's rapidly expanding fleet had ferried countless men, women, old people, and children fleeing south in panic—from the sea and from the far bank of the Yangtze River.
Of course, throughout this process, the Shen Family had gained no small amount of benefit:
Money and silk, artifacts, books—and more importantly, the carefully selected refugees the Shen Family could absorb...
In just four years, the refugees absorbed by the Shen Family had reached twice the number of their tenant farmers!
Among those refugees who had skills, organizational abilities, or martial prowess—those capable of walking from Luoyang to the Si River, to the Huai River, to the northern bank of the Yangtze River,