The wind blew through the grain, setting the ears swaying in waves.
Heaven and earth seemed to fall silent at that moment.
Even Yang Ling'er and her companions, who were approaching, stopped in their tracks. One moment, the land had been a ruin of gullies; the next, yellow and green stretched across it. They were too stunned to keep walking.
If they were struck speechless, the refugees were even more shaken!
"An immortal?"
The people's faces were filled with awe, but when they looked at the fertile fields on every side, confusion entered their eyes. For a moment, they seemed at a loss, unsure what to do.
Li Chunfeng said, "You became refugees because your fields were destroyed and oppressive taxes forced you to take desperate measures. Now that the land has been restored, why not return to work it?"
His words only deepened their confusion. Many faces showed signs of struggle, as though the choice were impossible. A faint golden light surfaced in their eyes.
"What is there to hesitate over? Would they rather be refugees than return to their fields?" Yang Ling'er and the others had arrived in time to hear him, and she could not help speaking up.
"That may be so, but even if most of them cannot read or write and cannot reason it all through clearly, they can still sense the problems beneath it." Li Dingji stepped forward with a smile. "First, are these fields real, or a dream? Can they be trusted? Second, if they were destroyed once, they can be destroyed again. Third, with two armies about to clash, even if they find peace for now, the fighting may still reach them later."
After saying all that, he could not resist asking Chen Cuo, "Martial Uncle, was I right?"
Chen Cuo glanced