Reborn as Murong Fu: This time I am the protagonist

The blue waves are thousands of miles away, and the green mountains are covered with green. On a bright sunny day, the lakes and mountains in the south of the Yangtze River slowly recede.

Murong Fu and others were traveling on a five-foot-long ship, which was about the same as a luxury cruise ship of this era, so they spent hundreds of taels of silver to rent it.

The cabin is very large, and except for the servants, everyone traveling with us has his or her own room.

It had been two days, and Murong Fu was still recalling that night, Wang Yuyan's lingering green silk hair, as tender as water.

He sighed.

No wonder the old saying often says that Wenwen Township is the Tomb of Heroes. A real hero has to be defeated by the beauty Begonia sleeping in spring and the pear blossom carrying rain, let alone a fake hero like himself. If so, his martial arts should belong to the ancient tomb sect.

He smiled self-deprecatingly. He really had nothing to do with the word "ambition". If he insisted on relying on this aspect, he would be more like a mule, driven by a whip called fate, and had to move forward.

Before leaving, he specifically asked Deng Baichuan to pay attention to whether he could acquire assets such as mines near Suzhou.

Deng Baichuan was shocked.

It’s not that the Murong family can’t come up with this money, but because the Murong family has always been operating assets such as inns, teahouses, banks, and farms. In the words of later generations, the main business scope is the primary industry and the tertiary industry. .

According to the theories of some experts in the Song Dynasty, only the tertiary industry can maximize economic benefits. Only when the proportion of the tertiary industry in a country is larger can it prosper and make the country rich and the people strong. There are even some crazy experts who have proposed abandoning agriculture, relying on imported food for all, and investing all the people in the tertiary industry.

This theory has been part of the Bible written in textbooks for many years. No one has questioned its correctness for many years. I don’t know if it has been changed now, or if the expert’s face is swollen.

In short, things like mining are thankless and a waste of effort.

If the gentlemen didn't have some human fireworks, they wouldn't even want to plant the land.

Previously, Murong Fu read the poem "Compassion for the Farmers" by Li Shen, who pretended to sympathize with the farmers. The opening line: Sow a grain of millet in spring and harvest ten thousand grains in autumn. Murong Fu sneered again and again. He bluntly said that the author had never farmed at first glance. , one ear of rice will not support more than 500 seeds. This is still the case in modern rice seeds, which have been optimized and bred. In ancient times, the number would have been even lower. Moreover, rice is not planted in spring and harvested in autumn. It is planted in spring and harvested in summer. It is planted in two seasons. If it can be done as the author writes, then no farmer will starve to death.

The result was that for the poetry appreciation question, which the Chinese teacher called a scoring question, Murong Fu didn't get a single point.

Although a certain angry young man later realized that millet and rice were not the same thing, and he should also eat duck eggs.

The water surface where Murong Fu and others are now is the predecessor of the famous "Beijing-Hangzhou Grand Canal" in history. It is now called the Bian River, a river that led to the demise of the Sui Dynasty in textbooks.

The famous poem "Nostalgia for the Bianhe River" by Pi Rixiu, a poet of the Tang Dynasty, firmly cemented Yang Guang's label as an eternal tyrant: He died in the Sui Dynasty because of this river, and he still relies on Tongbo for thousands of miles. If there was no water palace dragon boat incident, Gong Yu would not have much merit.

Today, this river has flowed for hundreds of years and is still the lifeline of the Song Empire. It is responsible for transporting grain to Bianliang, Tokyo, the heart of the empire.

Due to years of neglect of dredging, the once blue Bianhe River has become thinner than a jade belt, like a thin and withered old man, desperately supporting the livelihood of a large family and using all his strength to maintain the splendor of a home.

Murong Fu couldn't help but laugh when he first saw this thin, well, let's call it a big river. It is really hard to accept that the lifeline of the legendary Song Dynasty, which was rich and prosperous, was such a shallow river.

According to the normal historical trajectory, all the singing and dancing will press the pause button on that afternoon more than thirty years later, and then start again on the shore of the West Lake until the end of this dynasty's life.

If thousands of miles of carriages and letters are confused, how can there be separate borders in the south of the Yangtze River?

Raise millions of troops to the West Lake and immediately mount the first peak of Mount Wu!

What a warrior, full of murderous intent!

After he resumed his martial arts, out of his simple national consciousness, Murong Fu actually thought of spending some time to go to the White Mountain and Black Water in Changbai Mountain, and kill Wanyan Aguda directly before he had grown up. In this way, there will be no strange disasters like the second Central Plains destabilization and the sinking of China after the Yongjia Rebellion.

He even thought that he might as well be bolder and use Qinggong to sneak into the palace while that coward Zhao Ji was still a little kid, and kill him with one shot of the Six Meridians Divine Sword, which would be a blessing to the people of the world.

But even if there is no Wanyan Aguda and Wanyan Aguduo, Wanyan Aguduo and Wanyan Honglie, all kinds of so-called barbarians outside the Great Wall have grown up. When the time is right, they will naturally mount their war horses and cross the Great Wall pass. Oh, I almost forgot, because the Song Dynasty was so frustrated, the Great Wall was not within the scope of the Song Dynasty.

Okay, let's go to the passes, cross Yanmen Pass, Niangzi Pass, Dashan Pass, various passes known as the keys to mountains and rivers, use their iron hoofs to crush this so-called splendid and prosperous age, and the flowers and rivers.

I had forgotten that the Murong family's own ancestors also had the so-called Xianbei bloodline, the purest kind, which was six hundred years old. It was much more pure than Aunt Zhenghuangqi who was only three hundred years old.

But after these six hundred years and dozens of generations, how much of the so-called Xianbei blood is left in the body?

Murong Fu thought that by not learning Chinese characters and only speaking and writing in Xianbei dialect, he would be able to retain a trace of his lost dream of his homeland.

But where are the books written in Xianbei script? Six hundred years later, where are the Xianbei people?

There is only a genealogy of the old Baba, a jade seal that has been carved out by dozens of generations, and the descendants of the Murong family can take it out late at night to look at it, smell it, and relive the short-lived glory of the past. .

Even if he kills Zhao Ji, what can he do? If an artist dies under his own sword, there will be countless carpenters, flower and bird craftsmen, and immortal cultivators sitting on that throne, using their own ingenious methods to bring endless pain to their respective eras.

Even if the person sitting on that throne is himself, can he guarantee that he will be an emperor who truly benefits the common people? So that future generations thousands of years later can still know through a few words in the pile of old papers that he is also a good emperor who cares about all the people?

He smiled bitterly and shook his head. At his level, if he really wanted to become an emperor, he would probably break the record of the shortest-lived dynasty in history, and even be inferior to Yang Guang of Water Palace Dragon Boat.

After all, I can be considered a good person at best, but good people often cannot be a good emperor.

This is the era, something that makes countless real heroes helpless and sighing.

Not to mention the fake hero himself.

He felt a deep sense of powerlessness, which was stronger than when he faced Jiumozhi's flame knife and Zheluoxing's Diamond Fist alone.

But his meditation was forced to be interrupted, because at this time, the big ship hit something with a "bump" and stopped.