Han Ji

Chapter 145 Nanzheng Daye

Chapter 145 The Grand Review in Nanzheng (Part 2)

Zhang Wu led thirty-seven children to the field. They were unarmed, dressed only in short tunics, and stood in three rows.

"Report the numbers!" Zhang Wu ordered.

"One! Two! Three! ————" The voice was childish, but loud.

"Perform standing meditation!"

The children assumed a horse stance, arms outstretched. The sun was high, and sweat was pouring down their faces, but no one moved.

Zhang Wu persisted for the time it takes for an incense stick to burn before calling a halt.

The children finished their movements, their breathing heavy, but their backs straight.

Liu Bei got up, walked to the edge of the platform, and looked at the children.

He scanned all the children: "Remember, the Hanzhong Children's Camp is not a place to raise idlers. You must study, practice martial arts, and keep your hearts upright. When you grow up, those who are successful will join the army or the prefecture. Those who are not successful will go home to farm and be honest people. But wherever you go, never forget what your father risked his life for."

1

The children shouted in unison, "Never forget!"

The military parade ended close to noon.

Liu Bei rose again. Five thousand soldiers stood solemnly on the drill ground, their heavy armor soaked with sweat, but none of them moved.

"Today's military parade showcased the bravery of all the battalions," he said. "But bravery is not skill, it's confidence. True skill lies in obeying orders without question, advancing like a mountain, and unleashing a hail of arrows. You have all of these."

He paused for a moment: "But weapons are instruments of violence. Those who wield these weapons should know why they fight: to protect the peace of Hanzhong, to safeguard the lives of the people, and to ensure that their fallen comrades can rest in peace in the afterlife."

"From this day forward, the monthly pay of the soldiers in Hanzhong will be increased by another 0.5%. The pensions for those who died in battle will be increased by another 3,000. The wounded will be supported for life."

The soldiers below the stage were envious.

"But anyone who violates military discipline, oppresses the people, or cowers in the face of battle," Liu Bei's voice turned cold, "will be executed immediately, their property confiscated, and their family members expelled from Hanzhong."

A combination of kindness and severity.

Guan Yu raised his sword on the general's platform and declared, "I swear to be loyal to you to the death!"

Five thousand men roared in unison: "We swear to be loyal to the death! We swear to be loyal to the death!"

The sound was like thunder, and it lingered for a long time.

After the event ended, the viewing platform was mostly empty.

Du Xi was the last to stand up, walked to the edge of the platform, and watched the soldiers line up to return to camp. The sunlight was blinding, and he squinted, watching for a long time.

Wang Chun walked over and whispered, "Lord Du, look at these soldiers..."

"Elite troops," Du Xi said softly, "no less than the Northern Army in Luoyang back then."

"From now on..."

"Backwards?" Du Xi turned to look at him. "Your Highness, we're already on the boat, so don't even think about jumping off. If the boat is stable, we'll stay stable. If the boat capsizes..."

He didn't finish speaking, but Wang Chun understood.

The two walked off the stage side by side, their shadows stretching long in the autumn sun.

Military camp, central command tent.

Liu Bei had removed his armor and was wiping his face with a damp cloth. Guan Yu, Zhang Fei, Jian Yong, Qian Zhao, and Zhang Wu were all present.

Zhang Fei grinned: "Brother, wasn't that a sight to behold? I saw Yang Song's face turn pale!"

Guan Yu said in a deep voice, "The crossbowmen's third wave of fire was half a breath slower. When the cavalry circled around, three riders on the left flank broke away from the main force."

"

Qian Zhao nodded: "After using a repeating crossbow for a long time, the bowstring will loosen and needs to be replaced regularly."

Zhang Wudao said, "During the combat of the seventh group of the personal guards, they were slow to sheathe their swords and have been punished with extra training."

He summarized everything. Liu Bei listened and finally said, "All are good. But remember, today's performance is for myself."

On the battlefield, what's needed is ruthlessness in killing and cleverness in self-preservation.

Everyone fell silent.

Jian Yong handed over today's log: "The performance of each camp has been recorded in detail. The river camp set up its fortifications the fastest, but the chevaux-de-frise formation was a bit disorganized."

"Nurture them well," Liu Bei said, "but don't force them to grow too fast."

He looked at Guan Yu: "Yun Chang, starting tomorrow, each battalion will resume its daily training. Every ten days, one battalion will be selected to patrol the border and conduct live-fire exercises. We will not actually fight, but we will familiarize ourselves with the border terrain."

"Understood."

"Yide, we can't let our guard down at Yanjing. I need you to stockpile three months' worth of provisions in both Mianyang and Xixiang, just in case."

"clear!"

"Zijing, Zhang Wu," Liu Bei said, looking at the two men, "the security in Nanzheng remains unchanged. But there is one thing: send a few capable men towards Baishui Pass and Jiameng Pass to find out the roads, the garrison, and the supply lines. Do not make a fuss; disguise them as a merchant caravan."

The two men exchanged a glance, then clasped their hands in a fist salute: "Yes!"

After the arrangements were made, everyone withdrew. Liu Bei sat alone in his tent, unrolling the "Map of Yizhou Counties and Prefectures".

My fingers traced across Hanzhong, across Ba County, and across Chengdu.

Finally, it stopped at Baishuiguan.

"Liu Yan..." he whispered, "I'll help you quell the Yellow Turban Rebellion in Yizhou."

Outside the tent, the children of the military camp were eating. Today they had added meat, a large piece for each of them. Li Sigou saved his meat, wrapped it in oil paper, and tucked it into his pocket.

Zhang Wu saw this, but didn't say anything. He took another piece of meat from his own bowl and gave it to him, saying, "Eat this one now."

The child's eyes reddened, and he shoveled food into his mouth.

In the distance, the autumn sun was setting in the west, turning the drill ground into a golden-red hue.

Today's military parade is like a pebble thrown into a deep pool.

The ripples only spread in Hanzhong.

But it swells deeply and steadily.

They created a 5,000-strong elite force, secured the future of 37 children, and created a rare peaceful corner in a chaotic world.

And this is just the beginning.

In October, the Hanzhong Basin turns golden.

The rice stalks hung heavy, rustling in the wind like the sound of gold rubbing together. Farmers went to the fields before dawn, their sickles flashing, and bundles of rice were piled up on the ridges. Children followed behind, picking up the ears of rice, filling small baskets and then emptying them into large hampers.

Jian Yong led officials from the Ministry of Revenue to various counties to supervise the collection and requisition of grain. He first went to Mianyang, where the most newly reclaimed land was located and salt workers' families were concentrated, making it a pilot area.

The magistrate of Mianyang County, surnamed Wu, was a thin, old man who was leading his clerks in keeping accounts in the fields. Upon seeing Jian Yong arrive, he hurriedly greeted him: "Registrant Jian, look at this year's harvest! It's extraordinary!"

Jian Yong squatted down and grabbed a handful of rice grains. Each grain was plump and, when rubbed open, revealed a translucent white color.

What is the yield per acre?

"Cultivated land yields three bushels per mu!" Magistrate Wu beamed. "According to the 'Edict to Encourage Agriculture,' 30% goes to the tenants, and 70% is rent. Even after paying the rent, a household of five or six people can eat until next summer's harvest, and there will still be surplus grain to exchange for salt and cloth!"

Jian Yong stood up and looked out over the fields. Farmers were busy threshing the rice, the wooden yokes striking the ears of rice with muffled thuds. An old man hummed a cheerful tune as he threshed the rice.

"Is the granary ready?" Jian Yong asked.

"All ready!" Magistrate Wu pointed towards the county town. "Three new granaries, all built according to your blueprints, are moisture-proof and rodent-proof. We're just waiting for the grain to be stored."

"Pay into the treasury by household." Jian Yong instructed, "Record exactly how much each household pays. If there are households affected by disasters or illnesses, report them, and we can postpone or reduce the payment, but the accounts must be accurate."

"Your humble servant understands!"

Just then, the sound of horses' hooves came from the distant field ridges. Zhang Fei arrived with a troop of soldiers, their horses carrying several bags of goods.

"Registrar Jian!" Zhang Fei dismounted, grinning, "I've come to deliver salt!"

He ordered the soldiers to unload the bags, which contained twenty bags of salt, each weighing fifty catties. This was the salt well's autumn harvest gift to the farmers; each household could receive one catty of salt upon presentation of their land deed.

The farmers gathered around, their eyes filled with longing as they looked at the bags of salt.