All the heroes of the world are now in my grasp.

Gao Zidan turned around, looked at Han Xin who was still standing bowed in the snow, and after a moment of silence, asked, "Do you think the Xiongnu people are human?"

Han Xin was taken aback, clearly not expecting him to ask such a question. He quickly bowed and replied respectfully, "Of course. Although there is a distinction between Chinese and barbarians, and a difference in region, we are all made of flesh and blood, and we know how to feel cold and warm, and how to be hungry and full. We are all human beings."

"Since we're all human, what's wrong with helping those in need and rescuing those in need when we see them in trouble?" Gao Zidan nodded, her tone calm yet resolute. "Everything is centered on people; that's how it should be. Before, when I was holed up in my tent reading history books, I always thought that the major events in the world were about the power struggles and conquests of emperors and generals, and the alliances and rivalries of powerful families. But after traveling around for the past few days, I've come to realize that the so-called world has always been made up of living, breathing people."

He pointed to the lit yurts in the valley and continued, "These old people guarding the yurts, the women with children, and the children running and jumping in the snow are no different from the people in Han villages. They are all ordinary people in chaotic times, seeking a full meal and a peaceful life. If I can help, I will. It's not a world-shaking thing, let alone doing something that's good but ends up doing something bad."

Han Xin's brow remained furrowed, his concerns undiminished. He took a half-step forward and bowed, his tone earnest: "I understand the reasoning behind what you say, Young Master. But one cannot see into people's hearts, and the distinction between Han and barbarians has existed since ancient times. Today we have wholeheartedly helped them, but if they become powerful one day and truly march south to slaughter the Han people and plunder the prefectures and counties, wouldn't our good deeds today become the seeds of future disaster? How would we face those Han compatriots who have been slaughtered?"

"A life for a life, a debt for a debt, that's only right and proper." Gao Zidan's tone instantly turned a few degrees colder, leaving no room for ambiguity. "If that day ever comes and they come to kill us with knives, then we must fight back without hesitation or consideration for any past favors."

He paused, then spoke clearly and unambiguously: "But whether to fight or not, and how to fight, must be determined by the reasons. If the Xiongnu nobles and leaders want to seize power, profit, and expand their territory, and take advantage of the chaos in the Central Plains to take over and lead their iron cavalry south to slaughter and plunder the people, then we must fight them hard, fight them to the point of national annihilation and extermination, fight them until they are afraid and submit, fight them until they never dare to have such thoughts again, and make them remember this lesson."

"But if the grasslands are struck by a white disaster, and all the cattle and sheep die, leaving the elderly, weak, women, and children in the tribes without even a bite to eat to survive, and they are forced to migrate south to steal food because they can no longer live, then we cannot simply shout for war and killing. In such times, we should focus on trade, using our surplus grain, cloth, salt, and iron to exchange for their cattle, sheep, furs, and warhorses, exchanging what we have and what we need, so that both sides can survive as much as possible, instead of driving them to the brink of despair and forcing them to fight for their lives with swords and spears."

Han Xin stood in the snow, listening intently. The confusion on his face gradually faded, replaced by a look of realization. He bowed to Gao Zidan, his tone filled with understanding: "So that's how it is. Young Master, you believe in the ideals of the Yuanwu School?"

Gao Zidan was taken aback, his brows furrowing instantly. The Yuanwu Sect? He had never heard of that before.

"What is the Yuanwu Sect?" he asked.

"Young Master has been living in Shanggu for a long time, and with the tragedy that befell his family, he probably has no time to deal with these factional disputes in the court," Han Xin quickly bowed and explained. "Emperor Taizu of the Former Tang Dynasty, Li Zheng, whose posthumous title was Yuanwu, advocated, just as Young Master has just said, the integration of Han and non-Han peoples and border trade, using one non-Han person to control another. By maintaining regular trade relations, he supported the non-Han tribes on the grasslands who were close to the Central Plains, allowing them to resist those unruly tribes that were only interested in plundering. This way, the borders could be stabilized without the Central Plains army having to make a long and arduous expedition. Those who agreed with his ideas were called the Yuanwu faction by the court and the public."

He paused, then added, "Now that the Great Song Dynasty has been established, the current Emperor Zhao Ren has always advocated for a distinction between Han and non-Han peoples, believing that those not of our race are bound to have different hearts. As for the non-Han peoples on the borders, he only advocates for large-scale military campaigns to thoroughly subdue and annihilate them. Those in the court who agree with the Emperor's hardline stance are all classified as members of the Imperial Song faction. The two factions have always been opposed in the court, and the generals and aristocratic families on the borders have also mostly taken sides. The stance you just mentioned is almost exactly the same as what Emperor Yuanwu said back then, which is why I asked if you are a member of the Yuanwu faction."

After listening, Gao Zidan remained silent for a long time before slowly shaking his head. He knew in his heart that his thoughts came from the humanistic ideas that were ingrained in his bones before he transmigrated. Emperor Yuanwu of the Tang Dynasty, Li Zheng, was also a transmigrator, so it was only natural that he shared similar thoughts with him.

"I have no interest in these court factions, and I'm hardly a member of the Yuanwu faction," he said calmly. Then, he changed the subject and asked Han Xin, "But I'd like to ask you, after hearing so much, do you agree with the Yuanwu faction's claims or the Song Dynasty faction's? Which side are you on?"

Han Xin was taken aback, clearly not expecting the question to be thrown back at him. He quickly bowed and lowered his head, his face showing a bit of confusion and helplessness. He said in a low voice, "Your Highness, I... I don't really understand these grand principles of the court. Whether it's Emperor Yuanwu's ideas or the current emperor's statements, I've only heard about them sporadically. I've never thought about them in detail, let alone decided which side I should stand on."

He paused, then added, his tone full of dutifulness: "I am a retainer of the Gao family, and I only obey the young master's orders. Whatever the young master says, I will do."

Looking at Han Xin, who was bowing and showing utmost respect, Gao Zidan suddenly felt a surge of undisguised disappointment.

He had always known that the man before him was a peerless military genius, a great talent capable of pacifying the world and bringing peace to the land. From the day he saved him, he had always hoped that his thoughts, his ideas, and his actions would earn this national hero's respect, win his heart, and make him willingly follow him, rather than just treating him as a young master to be served.

Even now, Han Xin still treats him with utmost respect and obedience, but still only regards him as a lord, showing no intention of wholeheartedly assisting him. He doesn't even clearly agree with the proposals that Han Xin has repeatedly considered and poured his heart out, and hasn't even figured out his own stance.

In the end, he still failed to win the heart of this national hero.

Dusk completely enveloped the valley, and a cold wind swirled fine snowflakes, ruffling the hems of their clothes. The lights in the valley grew brighter, and the sounds of cattle and sheep returning to their pens gradually subsided, leaving only the distant shouts of herdsmen echoing across the open snowfield.

Gao Zidan gazed at the warm yellow lights, remaining silent for a long time. The sense of loss in her heart, like snowflakes falling on her shoulder, slowly accumulated.