"Looking towards Xijing, weeping with a blood-stained soul,
In the fire, lotus blooms bring waves of vitality;
Slay the Hu, equalize the land,
Righteousness reaches the heavens, bringing peace."
A faint and tender child's voice flowed into Chen Ping's ears. He pushed open the window and looked out to see a few children at the lakeside of Wenyuan Prefecture, playing with a shuttlecock, intermittently singing nursery rhymes.
At this time, it had been a little over a month since the battle in Wenyuan Valley, where a hundred thousand Beizhou Hu Cavalry were slain.
The war-torn and blackened Wenyuan City had once again revived with vitality.
This was not only because Chen Ping was personally overseeing the city, but also because most of the refugees fleeing from the north chose to settle in the one prefecture and nine counties of Wenyuan Prefecture.
As the saying goes, a blank sheet of paper is easy to paint on.
