After the New Year, the weather began its unhurried revival, right on schedule, and temperatures slowly rose. It was easy to imagine the thaw arriving within the first month, when the Great River and Bohai would be filled with broken ice, and the fields soaked through with snowmelt.
Next, naturally, preparations for plowing and spring sowing could begin, moving from south to north. Measured by spring sowing, Zhang Xing had been in this world for four full years and was about to enter his fifth. By summer, his career as a rebel would enter its third year as well.
When a scholar rebelled, he could accomplish nothing in three years. When Zhang Xing rebelled, three years instead seemed far too swift a pace.
It really was too swift.
Life after rebelling, especially, always felt as though someone were pushing him along... According to his original plan, he should only recently have crossed the river, and might not even have fought his first battle. Yet now the Righteous Army that had crossed the river had long since fought to establish its foothold, completed its reorganization, and stood ready for its next trial.
But what could one say? Circumstances waited for no one. Who was not being pushed along?
"Lord Feng." In the main hall of the General’s Residence in Hejian Commandery's seat, seated in the place of honor, Great Wei's
Northern Hebei Campaign Commander Xue Changxiong glanced at the light coming through the doorway and spoke quietly, with some unease, to an old man in plain clothes seated before him. Fully armored, he shifted his feet, scraping off a good deal of mud. "Circumstances wait for no one. Who isn't being pushed along? Do I not know the roads are muddy and spring sowing is near? Do I not know the