Han Ji

Chapter 142 The Young Pioneers Camp

Liu Bei was silent for a moment, then shook his head: "There's no rush to erect the stele. Wait until your lives are truly good, when every family has surplus grain and every household has new clothes, then we can erect it."

He stood up, patted the young salt worker on the shoulder: "Work hard, save some money, get married, have children, and let them go to school to learn to read and write so they can serve the court."

The boy nodded emphatically.

As they left the salt wells, the salt workers saw them off for ten miles. Old Wu, pulling his grandson along, shouted to Liu Bei's retreating figure, "My lord! I've sold my life to you!"

The sound drifted in the wind.

Liu Bei didn't turn around, he just waved his hand.

Zhang Fei wiped his face: "Damn it, the sandstorm is really strong."

In March, spring plowing begins.

Liu Bei took off his official robes, put on a short tunic, and, along with Guan Yu, Zhang Fei, Jian Yong, and others, went to the surrounding villages to help with farming. It wasn't just for show; they were genuinely working.

He arrived at a village called Lijia'ao in the western part of the county. The village had about thirty households, mostly tenant farmers who rented land from Wang Chun. During the land survey last year, the village had been allocated eighty mu of new land, which was to be cultivated this spring.

When Liu Bei arrived, the village was holding a mobilization meeting. The old village chief, leaning on his cane, shouted to the able-bodied men, "The lord has given us land and crops; if we don't cultivate them well, who will we be letting down?!"

Upon seeing Liu Bei arrive, they all knelt down in a panic.

Liu Bei helped the old village chief up and looked at everyone: "Get up, everyone. I'm here today to work with you all. I've farmed before, I'm not a novice."

He actually went down to the field. The soil was hard and raw; swinging the hoe made his hands numb. He took off his shirt, baring his chest, and began turning the soil, hoe by hoe. Guan Yu and Zhang Fei followed suit, the three of them competing, sweating profusely.

Seeing this, the able-bodied men in the village roared and worked even harder.

Around noon, the old village chief's wife brought them lunch: brown rice and pickled vegetables, one bowl for each person. Liu Bei squatted on the edge of the field and ate, finishing every last bite.

While resting after dinner, he asked the old village chief, "Has the rent been settled?"

"It's settled, forty percent." The old village chief grinned. "The prince himself came to say it, and a contract was signed. Your Excellency, forty percent! It used to be fifty-five percent, and in years of famine, it could even be seventy percent!"

"Plant well," Liu Bei said. "If the land yields a good harvest, even forty percent will be enough to feed you. With surplus grain, raise some chickens and ducks, and life will improve."

Just then, the sound of horses' hooves came from the village entrance. Wang Chun, accompanied by several stewards, came carrying several bags of goods.

"My lord!" Wang Chun dismounted, wiping his sweat. "I prepared some fertilizer cakes at the manor and will send some to the village."

Fertilizer cake is a mixture of soybean residue and straw ash, which is especially good for raw soil. Liu Bei looked at it and nodded: "Your Highness is very thoughtful."

Wang Chun said in a low voice, "Since Your Excellency personally cultivates the land, how can I lag behind? From now on, in all villages in the western region, anyone who reclaims new land will be provided with fertilizer cakes by my estate, free of charge."

"Then thank you."

Wang Chun then pulled out a roll of paper: "This is the rent list for this year in my humble village. Please take a look, Your Excellency. All tenants will pay 40%. In years of famine, this will be reduced to 30%."

Liu Bei took it, looked at it, and handed it back: "Since the prince has already signed the contract, just act according to the contract."

Wang Chun bowed and withdrew. The old village chief watched his retreating figure and muttered, "The sun must have risen in the west..."

Liu Bei smiled but didn't say anything.

He knew why Wang Chun did this; it wasn't out of genuine kindness, but rather a pragmatic approach. But what did it matter? As long as the people benefited, that was all that mattered.

They worked until the sun was setting, cultivating five acres of land. Liu Bei had blisters on his hands and his back ached. The villagers saw them off at the village entrance, where a woman holding a child made the child kowtow to Liu Bei.

"My lord," the woman cried, her eyes brimming with tears, "my child's father died of illness last year. If it weren't for your land and grain, my child and I would have starved to death... Child, remember, this is Lord Liu, our benefactor!"

The child, bewildered, kowtowed. Liu Bei patted his head: "Grow up well and be filial to your mother."

On the way back to the city, the setting sun was like blood.

Guan Yu suddenly said, "Brother, that child today reminded me of Guangzong."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Thinking of those brothers who died in battle," Guan Yu said in a low voice, "if they were still alive, they would have land to cultivate and children to raise."

Liu Bei remained silent for a long time before saying, "So we must live well and live a decent life for them."

The sound of horses' hooves clattered, shattering the setting sun.

The news reached Su Garden.

Su Gu was tending to a few orchids. After the old servant finished reporting, he put down the water ladle and smiled.

"Helping farmers... he's really capable of doing that."

The old servant whispered, "Everyone outside says that Magistrate Liu truly treats the people as human beings."

"He was originally from a commoner background." Su Gu wiped his hands. "He knows what the common people want. It's not just empty talk; it's about real food, land, and dignity."

He walked to the window and looked out at the distant mountains beyond the garden.

"I served as governor for eight years. What did I ever do for the people? How many times did I reduce rent? How many times did I help with farming?" he said self-deprecatingly. "Never. I always thought that sitting in the hall and approving official documents was all I was doing for the people."

The old servant dared not respond.

"It'll be soon." Su Gu looked towards Luoyang. "The world is about to descend into chaos, and heroes will emerge. This land of Hanzhong may not be able to nurture a true dragon, but it can nurture a pair of wings, enough for him to fly out."

A breeze swept through the garden, and the orchids swayed in the breeze.

It looks like it's nodding.

In June of the fourth year of the Zhongping era, the heat of summer arrived in Hanzhong.

The sun was scorching, turning the soil on the official road white. Jian Yong returned from the salt wells of Mianyang, carrying two bags of fresh salt on his horse. Zhang Fei had insisted that he take them, saying, "Let my brother have a taste." When entering Nanzheng City, he made a special detour to the Ministry of Revenue in the east of the city to take a look.

The number of farmers queuing outside the government office was less than last month, but there were still about a hundred people. Old Clerk Qian sat in the shade registering the grain, while Clerks Sun and Li distributed it in an orderly manner. One old farmer, after receiving his grain, didn't leave. He took out a few eggs from his pocket and insisted on giving them to Old Clerk Qian.

"Dude, this won't do..."

"Take it!" The old farmer's eyes were red. "The magistrate gave us a way to survive, and we have nothing to repay him with but these few eggs..."

Jian Yong watched from afar, but didn't go over; instead, he turned his horse around and returned to camp.

Inside the military camp, Zhang Wu was giving a speech to the children's unit. Thirty-seven children stood in three rows, wearing uniform short tunics made of cloth donated by Du Xi and hastily produced by the camp women. The children were stronger and had more flesh on their faces than when they first arrived.

"What are we practicing today?" Zhang Wu asked, his hands behind his back.

"We can read!" the children answered in unison.

"Anything else?"

"Standing meditation!"

"besides?"

The children looked at each other. The tall, thin one, Li San Gou's son, Li Si Gou, whispered, "Listen...listen to a story."

"That's right!" Zhang Wu grinned. "Today we're talking about the suppression of bandits in Bashan, about how your fathers died. It's not to make you cry, it's to make you remember that your fathers didn't die in vain!"

He walked to the front of the line and looked at each student individually: "Your fathers risked their lives for this opportunity to stand here. The magistrate said that the children of the military academy must study, practice martial arts, and grow up to be successful!"

"yes!"

Jian Yong dismounted, and Zhang Wu came to greet him.

"How is it?" Jian Yong raised his chin towards the disciples' camp.

"There are a few promising talents," Zhang Wu said in a low voice. "That kid Li Sigou is quick to learn to read and very strong. And that Wang Xiaoshi, his father died in the bandit suppression battle, he's very clever, he learns after being taught only once."

"Take good care of them." Jian Yong patted his shoulder. "These are all seeds."