Chapter 1385 - 1381

So many people—just looking at them made your eyes hurt. If they really clashed with that crowd, without going on a killing spree, it would be very hard to get away.

The Bald Monk came back up to the ground, the irritability in his eyes impossible to suppress.

Tens of thousands of refugees— in the Young Prince and his subordinates’ eyes, they were a huge headache, but in the eyes of top experts like the Azure Dragon and the Bald Monk, they were nothing more than slightly larger ants.

If they wanted to flatten their way through, it’d be easy as pie; but the karmic backlash from mowing them down would be enough to directly ruin their path of cultivation.

Being able to fight but not allowed to lift a hand—if that’s not irritating, what is.

The Azure Dragon clearly understood the Bald Monk’s mood at the moment. He was annoyed too, but not to the point of taking it out on the people who’d gone ahead to scout.

That person hadn’t sent back any information at all; either he was dead, or he’d been trapped.

"First think of a way to separate those people from us. Also, send someone to find out exactly what’s happening up ahead!"

If the disaster ahead was too troublesome, then this road couldn’t be taken—they’d have to change routes.

Changing routes sounded simple when you said it, but doing it was a hassle: not only did they have to re‑plan the path, even the supplies they were carrying would probably have to be reorganized from scratch.

But given the current situation, it was obviously not a matter of things going however they wanted.

The Young Prince’s confidant by his side immediately nodded. "I’ll go at once!"

There were many refugees, but fortunately, there was still some distance between the two sides, and they still had time to remedy things.

Inside Yun Ran’s carriage, after finishing that page in the booklet, she put down her brush.

She had heard everything happening outside loud and clear while writing, even though she was perfectly capable of multitasking.

But with tens of thousands of refugees about to crash head‑on into them, even she couldn’t quite sit still anymore.

Lifting the curtain of the carriage, Yun Ran saw the Azure Dragon’s rather foul expression.

Seeing Yun Ran, the Azure Dragon was a little surprised. He’d thought she wouldn’t take the initiative to come out.

Over this period of time, he’d more or less figured out a bit of Yun Ran’s temperament—that was, if something wasn’t her business, she absolutely wouldn’t waste an extra word on it.

"What are you doing out here?"

The Dragon Spirit was a bit surprised as well. With him around, the situation outside would absolutely not affect Yun Ran.

Even if their convoy was collided with by those refugees, there was no way anyone would get near Yun Ran’s carriage.

"Came out to have a look. I also want to know whether this business of refugees blocking the road is man‑made or an accident."

This doubt wasn’t Yun Ran’s alone; the Azure Dragon and the Bald Monk obviously had it too.

They just hadn’t voiced it. Now, hearing Yun Ran come out and say it so directly, they suddenly felt that Yun Ran’s way of doing things was perhaps even wilder than theirs.

The Azure Dragon picked up her words on the spot: "Whether it’s man‑made or an accident, what difference does it make? Do you have some way to solve it?"

"Of course there’s a difference. If it’s man‑made, then you eliminate the human factor. If it’s an accident, then you open up a temporary buffer for them.

Don’t underestimate human life force. As long as you give them a bit of opportunity, they can create a great many more chances on their own.

Most importantly, didn’t you notice? The mountains around here are lush and green; finding something to eat and stay alive is very easy.

Common folk cling to life especially hard. As long as they have a bite to eat, their endurance will be extraordinarily strong—they won’t go seeking death on their own."

This sort of understanding, in theory, should be something everyone knows.

But unfortunately, everyone standing here—including those guards—had lifestyles far removed from that of ordinary commoners.

In a monarchy with rigid hierarchy, commoners were sometimes truly worth less than ants.

Those high above—how would they ever bother to care how the people at the bottom survived, or what their life force was like.

Yun Ran’s words at this moment were like a resounding slap across the Young Prince’s face. All he saw were these "consumables" about to crash into their convoy.

As for the endless swathes of green hills, in the Young Prince’s cognitive framework, they simply did not connect to the concept of a natural granary at all.

The Azure Dragon and the Bald Monk were a bit stunned as well. They, too, didn’t really understand how the people at the bottom actually lived.

The Dragon Spirit looked at this group of people who lived in their ivory tower, watched their shocked expressions, and openly rolled his eyes.

Truly a bunch who don’t partake of the world’s smoke and fire—what difference is there between them and those muddle‑headed emperors who said, "Why don’t they eat minced meat soup"?

"Looking at how stupid you all are, I doubt you can get anything done. This seat still has to personally step in!"

Just as the Dragon Spirit finished speaking, his figure whooshed and vanished.

Yun Ran had no interest in standing there with these people, staring at each other. She went back into the carriage.

As for how flustered the people outside her carriage might be right now, that wasn’t her concern.

When they ran into an Evil Cultivator causing trouble, they really did protect the commoners—but that didn’t in the slightest conflict with their complete ignorance of how those commoners survived.

You could only say that it was entirely possible for one person to carry a great many contradictions.

The Dragon Spirit left quickly and returned just as fast.

There was no extra expression on his face; it was as if, to him, this was just another task, not something that required any Empathy.

"Those refugees leaving their homes behind should be due to human factors, though in their eyes, it would indeed be a mix of natural and man‑made disasters."

The Dragon Spirit didn’t lift Yun Ran’s carriage curtain; he spoke directly from outside. Yun Ran could hear him anyway.

The Young Prince hadn’t expected the Dragon Spirit to figure things out so quickly.

For a moment, he sank into self‑doubt. All those confidants he’d put so much effort into cultivating—was their ability to gather information really not even comparable to the Dragon Spirit’s?

If the Dragon Spirit could hear what he was thinking right then, he’d definitely reward him with a massive eye‑roll.

With the way the Young Prince’s people carried themselves, looking so high and mighty, it was already good if they didn’t scare those commoners into trembling.

And he still wanted key information from those people’s mouths? Wasn’t that daydreaming.

Unlike them, he had a face that radiated compassion for all beings. Back then, even Yun Ran and Gu Yuan had nearly been fooled by this Immortal‑like visage.

Now he was even dressed like a Scholar; when facing those refugees, he’d open with a gleaming piece of Silver.

When you’re out on the road, especially when dealing with people whose survival has been pushed to the brink, raw pressure does nothing but make them more wary.

But Silver— that sort of thing is never unwelcome. Naturally, they’ll tell you whatever they know.

All these complaints ran through the Dragon Spirit’s mind, but he didn’t say them aloud; still, the constant shifts in his eyes seemed to say everything.

The Young Prince suddenly felt an indescribable awkwardness and, in the end, could only quietly step back two paces.

He truly didn’t want to meet that rather foul, scolding look in the Dragon Spirit’s eyes anymore.