After hearing Yellow Dragon's words, Lieshan trembled.
He recalled encountering bitter winters in some tribes, and tribes that had gone a long time without hunting enough game.
At those times, the elders would quietly eat less, leaving their food for the warriors and women.
He had thought those were isolated cases, circumstances peculiar to tribes in certain regions.
He had never imagined that this suffering was widespread across all the lands of the Human Race.
"You tasted countless herbs, identified their medicinal properties, treated illnesses, neutralized poisons, and healed wounds. Those are indeed great contributions to the Human Race," Yellow Dragon continued. "But have you ever considered that among the countless humans across this land, those who die from injuries, poisoning, and illness are far outnumbered by those who starve?"
Lieshan opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"The most pressing problem facing the Human Race is not injury or illness, but food." Yellow Dragon's tone softened slightly. "Injury and illness are only part of the struggle to survive. Hunger is more terrifying than either."
"If you cannot solve that problem, you are not qualified to become the Human Emperor."
Tears finally spilled from Lieshan's eyes.
Not from shame or self-reproach, but because he finally understood what Yellow Dragon meant.
The path of the Human Emperor went beyond treating illnesses and saving lives. The duties of the Human Emperor went beyond patching holes and filling gaps.
A true emperor had to lay a foundation that would bless his people for countless generations. He had to be capable of resolving the most fundamental, deep-rooted, and deadly predicament facing his race.
Fuxi had led the Human Race in securing vast territories and guided them from barbarism to civilization. That had been their first great leap.
What Lieshan needed to do was