Hearing him say this, Long Yelin suddenly felt an nameless fury flare within him. He snatched up the inkstone and hurled it to the floor, roaring, "What do you not dare? What exactly do you not dare? I only want to hear a few honest words from you! Is even that too much to ask? Why can't I find a single person to talk to anymore?"
The emperor's wrath thundered, yet Zhou Ruiyuan's expression remained as still as an ancient well. He slowly knelt, picked up the inkstone whose corner Long Yelin had smashed, and said quietly, "The seven provinces of Great Kang's Northwest have suffered poor harvests year after year. They have now gone five months without rain or snow. If this continues, there will certainly be a severe drought this spring. Langya Commandery in the southeast was struck by a typhoon. Seawater surged into the city, houses collapsed, and countless people and livestock were killed or injured. Civil unrest has broken out in Chengchun. Over a thousand commoners stormed the provincial offices and clashed with the local troops..."
"Enough!" Long Yelin roared. It was not that he did not know; he simply did not want to bring these matters up. Even if he knew, what could he do? Great Kang's current finances could not possibly address so many problems at once. Long Yelin preferred to escape them.
Zhou Ruiyuan said, "Your servant must face these matters almost every moment of every day. Your Majesty has not enjoyed a single peaceful night's sleep, and neither have I. Your Majesty values me and has entrusted me with great responsibilities. Holding high office, I must put the suffering of the people first. It is not that I am growing increasingly distant from Your Majesty, but that my strength cannot stretch to