"Father, if you have something to say, just say it directly. I’m listening," Zhao Yan said, his expression turning serious.
Seeing that there was a serious matter at hand, Zhao Yan immediately dropped his playful demeanor and adopted the expression he reserved for important discussions.
"I had a dream last night. I dreamt of the year I was born. You remember how your grandmother always used to curse me, calling me a bad omen? It was because that year there was a massive drought across the land. Even a meager harvest was considered a best-case scenario; for many, it was a complete crop failure. A whole year of blood and sweat, all for nothing. I don't know how many people had to sell their children that year, or how many simply starved to death." Zhao Gao’s face was filled with sorrow, his voice choked with emotion.
Chapter 100