Yun Ye, who had learned to read and write alongside Yun Yu since childhood: “…”
When put that way, if every character looked the same, wouldn’t they just be the same word?
Still, he now found himself deeply fascinated by these unfamiliar new terms: pinyin, literacy campaigns.
“Haha, I’m a slow learner. I could never get the hang of characters. I’ve only managed to learn a few hundred so far,” Zhang Rui said, a little embarrassed.
“I won’t bother you any longer. I still need to deliver food and supplies to your comrades.” With that, he waved and led his men out of the courtyard.
Yun Ye closed the gate and looked at the assorted goods just delivered, suddenly breaking into a bright smile.
He finally understood why the general and the young general were so devoted to Princess Jinyang—nay, even reverent of her!
“The general didn’t lie to us. Even if we’re disabled, we can still find work we’re good at,” Liu Pu remarked, his voice tinged with excitement.
He was one of the men who had opened the gate for Zhang Rui earlier.
“Right. We need to train hard. I’ve only lost one eye—compared to that soap maker just now, I’m far better off,” said a man named Li Nai.
His left eye socket was nothing but a black hollow, the scarred scab grotesque, yet his face now held a smug smile.
His words drew envious looks from the others.
Yun Ye watched his brothers, now brimming with renewed vitality and fighting spirit, and felt a pang of bitterness in his heart.
This was exactly the intention behind sending Zhang Rui to deliver supplies to them.
Even though they were crippled soldiers, they could still function like normal people and contribute in roles suited to them.
Princess Jinyang—no, from now on, she should be called the Lord—truly had no intention of keeping them idle. They would have to earn their keep.
But at this moment, that refusal to let them live off handouts nearly made him cry. Treating them as normal people was the greatest respect she could show them.
Yun Ye nodded firmly. “We must not only train hard but also become literate.”
Though he didn’t fully understand what “literacy campaigns” meant yet, if the higher-ups had arranged it, it must be necessary.
At that moment, everyone’s heart swelled with hope for the future.
As the sound of construction roared in Shan Guan County, Jiang Jin left the city and, following the under-construction Chunshan Road, headed toward Chunrong County.
The refugees she had brought back the day before had already left earlier, separately assigned to three villages for construction work.
Jiang Jin walked along, inspecting the progress of road clearing, until she finally reached Chunrong County around noon.
The canal from Gersi Mountain to Chunrong County had long been dug, and the moat was already filled with water again.
The houses near the northern gate were mostly completed, with roof beams being installed; the rest would soon be ready for occupancy.
When Jiang Jin entered the county office, she found Qiu Liao head down, handling official business. Seeing her, he quickly rose and bowed. “Lord, you’ve arrived.”
Jiang Jin nodded. “You’ve worked hard.”
Qiu Liao humbly replied, “It’s simply my duty.”
Jiang Jin smiled and asked, “I see the other areas have started demolition?”
Qiu Liao nodded and explained, “The northern district is mostly done; the canals and wells have been dug, freeing up quite a few workers. I figured we could proceed here at the same time, since the weather isn’t too cold yet.”
Because of the demolition, the original residents had to move out and join the makeshift camps.
The nights were already turning chilly, so he had the men light bonfires around the areas where the people were sleeping to maintain a comfortable temperature.
Jiang Jin approved of this. “Good. Try to speed things up. October is almost here, and I expect the weather to turn cold soon.”
Qiu Liao nodded repeatedly. “We’re already working urgently. But city drainage and such all have to be done step by step. Fortunately, with cement now, it’s much faster.”
Speaking of this, Jiang Jin felt a sense of accomplishment. In just one year, she had actually produced quite a few things.
Qiu Liao hesitated for a moment before asking, “Lord, should we consider lowering grain prices?”
With this year’s drought and the ongoing wars, grain prices outside had risen to over a string of coins per stone, and even then it was hard to buy.
Meanwhile, Jiang Jin’s grain prices had never gone up—around five hundred coins per stone, with coarse grains even cheaper. Vegetables like turnips and greens were also very affordable.
With the wages workers in Gephoenix City could earn, getting by was no problem.
And “getting by” here meant being truly full, not the old standard where being half-full counted as a meal.
Still, eating fine grains at every meal was impossible for most; they mainly consumed cheaper coarse grains.
Thanks to the sweet potatoes and potatoes available in Gephoenix, priced very low, the people didn’t even consider them coarse grains—they found them so delicious they’d eat even the skins.
On the question of lowering grain prices that Qiu Liao had raised, Jiang Jin and Luo Qingci had discussed it before.
Stable meals were the most basic survival issue for the people. Now that Jiang Jin had sufficient grain supplies, lowering grain prices was an inevitable step.
Reducing grain prices would improve the people’s quality of life.
Jiang Jin nodded. “Yes. But do it step by step—lower it by two-tenths first.”
Qiu Liao’s face lit up. “Should we still use ration tickets?”
“Yes,” Jiang Jin confirmed. She was worried someone might resell her grain on the black market.
Because of the war, the people in her city rarely left its walls, but when enough profit was at stake, anything could change. Thus, it was necessary to nip that possibility in the bud at the source.
Recalling something else, Jiang Jin frowned. “We still need to find a solution for salt.”
A person needs about six grams of salt per day. With her current population of roughly seventy to eighty thousand, the minimum annual salt requirement was around three hundred thousand jin.
She had seized two hundred thousand jin of salt from Ze’e Prefecture, which would only last her people for a little over half a year. The salt that He Li helped purchase and loot earlier had already been used up.
Moreover, salt was needed not just for consumption but also for other purposes.
And her population kept growing.
Qiu Liao suggested, “Perhaps we could consider trading with Ze’e Prefecture.”
Jiang Jin thought it over and shook her head. “Ze’e Prefecture probably won’t care for our money or goods. And I don’t have anything else to offer.”
The most valuable thing she had now was grain, and she wasn’t about to part with that.
Then an idea struck her, and she chuckled. “Maybe we should look into starting with Donghu Prefecture.”
Qiu Liao immediately understood—she was thinking of raiding their supplies.
He thought about it, then sighed with a shake of his head. “Given the current situation, they’ll probably use sea transport or send a large military escort.”
Jiang Jin nodded. “I suspect they’ll opt for sea transport.”
Jinyang’s forces were notoriously fierce, equipped with powerful crossbows. If Qu Zhao tried to move goods through Shan Guan County, how many escorts would he need without being raided?
Sea transport was Qu Zhao’s best bet—assuming his ships were still intact.
Qiu Liao said helplessly, “If they go by sea, we don’t really have many effective countermeasures.”
Jiang Jin disagreed. “You’ve forgotten about Xunfeng Island. That island is quite sizable. If we can get our hands on ships, we can raid them even if they use the sea route.”
Qiu Liao gasped, momentarily stunned. “Lord… you want to take over Xunfeng Island?”
Donghu Prefecture’s former naval garrison was southeast of Xianglu County, with a military dock nearby, directly facing Xunfeng Island.
Jiang Jin was unequivocal. “That’s right. Once I occupy Xunfeng Island as a military base, whether Donghu Prefecture ships by sea or land, I can intercept them.”
If she seized Xunfeng Island as a military stronghold, Donghu Prefecture would be completely encircled by her on both sea and land, becoming a prize within her grasp. It was only a matter of time before she reclaimed it.
The most important thing was that if she established her own naval base at Xunfeng Island, it would be much more convenient to reach both Haijia and Sizhou in the future.
Qiu Liao immediately grasped Jiang Jin’s intention, feeling a surge of emotion in his chest that lingered for a long time, unable to calm down.
While others planned three steps ahead, his Lord could see ten steps ahead, laying down the pieces of the game early on. This was no mere steady and meticulous strategy—it was as unshakable as Mount Tai.
