Wang Niu shook his head. “We’ll build the land by the north gate first. Once that’s done, we’ll move over there before tearing down this side. I think the Jinyang Army is good—they think of everything for us common folks.”
He thought again about what he’d seen earlier today: the endless shipments of bricks, timber, and other materials he didn’t recognize. Then he remembered the workers from Gefeng—all sturdy-built, their faces glowing with health.
He looked at his mother, her eyes wide but clouded, her hair sparse and white, her face sallow, her cheeks sunken. The hand holding her cane was withered like a claw.
His heart ached. “Mother, once the subsidies come through, let’s buy some fine grain and build up your strength.”
“If only we could find a doctor. I want to get your eyes checked. I heard the Jinyang Army is from Gefeng, and Gefeng must have doctors. I’ll ask around tomorrow,” he said, full of hope.
The old woman smiled and patted his hand. “I’m old—it doesn’t matter what happens to me. Better to save. I wonder if the rent will be high in the future?”
Wang Niu held her thin hand tightly. “Don’t worry, Mother. I quietly asked the workers who came from Gefeng. They said the rent isn’t high.”
“Back in Gefeng, the subsidies were enough to cover several years of rent, or even over a decade for a single room.”
“Besides, I’ll have a wage. I heard that after a while, once we get the hang of it, the pay might even go up. Either way, it’s better than before.”
Only then did the old woman relax a little. “Good, good. If life really does get better someday, I hope you find a wife and have some children.”
Wang Niu had once had a wife and a half-year-old son, but then… He sighed. “Let’s talk about that another day. I’ll go make dinner.”
That night in Chunrong County was unusually lively, breaking the usual silence. Especially at the north gate—people were cooking, chatting, organizing building materials…
The warm glow of the fires lit up smiling faces, and everything felt harmonious.
Not far from the north gate, another area was also packed, but those people were gaunt and hesitant—they were the displaced common folk from Chunrong and Shanguan counties.
The smell of food made them swallow hard. So fragrant!
Soon, a constable shouted, “Everyone, line up to get your evening meal!”
The people, anxious and urgent, jumped to their feet and rushed forward, afraid there wouldn’t be enough.
The constable barked, “Line up properly!”
They froze, then obediently formed several lines under his direction, clutching their cracked bowls and waiting to be served.
At the county office, candles were lit.
Jiang Jin looked at the gathered data. “Chunrong County has only about eight hundred people?”
Qiu Liao rubbed his temples. “Yes. The Quzhao showed no mercy toward Han civilians. They killed indiscriminately.”
Jiang Jin fell silent. She’d thought there might be over a thousand.
Qiu Liao changed the subject. “The county granary is too small. The grain we brought back today won’t fit properly, so I had it stored at the barracks temporarily.”
That day, they had not only brought tens of thousands of refugees into the city but also a large amount of the autumn harvest. After a few days of drying, it would be ready for use.
Jiang Jin nodded. “Good arrangement. Keep it in the barracks for now. We’ll have our own granary built soon.”
Among the refugees brought back to Chunrong that day, excluding the elderly and children, there were at least several thousand able-bodied workers.
There’s strength in numbers—that was the truth. The reconstruction of Chunrong might be done in less than twenty days.
For now, she planned to build a simple granary above ground. No underground structures—those were too much work.
Their temporary base of operations would still be Gefeng, which had tunnels to withstand sieges and enough granary space already built.
“Your Excellency, what about the Chunrong County magistrate and captured Quzhao soldiers? Kill them all?” Zhou Sui asked.
Chunrong had few people and few troops; they’d captured just over a hundred.
Jiang Jin shook her head. “Lock them up first. They might be useful. If not, put them to hard labor—digging mines.”
Captives might be disobedient, but they didn’t need wages. She only had to feed them just enough to keep them working. If they proved troublesome, they could always be killed. They were still useful.
“Have the wells been dug? It’s so dry, and the city is full of people now. We definitely don’t have enough wells,” she asked.
Qiu Liao nodded. “A few more wells have been started today.”
Speaking of water, Jiang Jin remembered the dried-up moat. “Has the moat been refilled?”
Zhou Sui sighed. “The moat used to draw water from a nearby stream, but now it’s dry from the drought. We asked some old locals, and they said there’s a larger water source about seven miles into the Gesi Mountains.”
“I sent people to check today. There is water there, but digging a canal to bring it here will be difficult.”
Jiang Jin frowned. “We still have to do it. Building construction also needs a lot of water; well water alone won’t be enough.”
“Let the residents of Chunrong dig that canal. If there aren’t enough people, we’ll bring in more from the refugees. Still not enough? Send people from Gefeng. With enough workers, it should be done in two days.”
Seven miles was roughly ten thousand meters. With several thousand workers, that meant just a couple of meters per person.
She added, “Especially those refugees confirmed free of plague. Have them join the construction. Dig the canal first and fill the moat.”
Gefeng now had over twenty thousand people, including several thousand soldiers—it was nearly at capacity. New refugees would be settled in Chunrong and Shanguan counties.
Zhou Sui acknowledged, “Understood.”
Chunrong would surely have a sleepless night as the townspeople welcomed a new day with a mix of hope and anxiety.
Morning light fell on Jiang Jin’s face, warming her with a golden glow. It would have been peaceful—if not for the chatter in her ear.
“Auntie, I can see so far! Wow, is that three miles away? I can actually see a bird dropping from three miles away!”
“Auntie, I can see birds in the sky too—oh, look, another dropping! It’s white! Hey, it must have eaten wheat—there’s a grain of wheat in the dropping…”
Jiang Jin paused mid-bite of her steamed bun and suddenly lost her appetite.
Yun Chengxuan kept going. “That’s a bad bird, stealing wheat! If I ever catch it, I’ll knock it out of the sky…”
With Qiu Liao stationed in Chunrong and the general Zhao Feng left behind, Jiang Jin felt at ease. That morning, she set out for Shanguan County, ready to await the Quzhao army’s arrival.
By her calculations, if Ze’a Commandery sent cavalry, they’d arrive by afternoon. Infantry would take until tomorrow.
But before heading to Shanguan, she planned to survey her newly conquered territory and plan how to farm the land next year. Now, she finally had arable land that truly belonged to her.
Zhou Sui rode behind her, binoculars in hand, scanning the surroundings with the kind of energy rarely seen in a young man.
Following Jiang Jin’s instructions, he’d switched to daytime mode. Indeed, he could see incredibly far—almost everything within sight was crystal clear.
He could even make out the tiny insects crawling on the withered trees ten miles away—truly amazing!
It was said that inside these things was something called electricity, and if it ran out, it could be recharged by leaving it in the sun. Such craftsmanship that even the word "miraculous" seemed an understatement.
His lord had shown him immense kindness and trust, so the only way to repay it was with unwavering devotion.
Jiang Jin found Yun Chengxuan's constant chattering unbearable and began to coax him gently: "Chengxuan, take a break. And stop saying words like 'poop' all the time—it's impolite."
Yun Chengxuan obediently took off the telescope, carefully placing it into the protective case—another gift from his aunt—soft and padded inside to keep it safe.
Too bad Zhou Sui had the same telescope. If only he and his aunt were the only ones with one, he would be the one and only unique one out of two.
"Aunt, why is it impolite? I think it's very polite," he asked, puzzled.
Jiang Jin: "..." How should she explain this?
Before she could answer, Yun Chengxuan excitedly added, "Aunt, I've decided to give my telescope a name. What do you think of 'See-Far'?"
