Jiang Jin pointed to the entirety of Fengzhou on the map. “This is where the bulk of the expense lies. The money, manpower, and materials needed to develop Fengzhou—that’s the real cost!”
Dong Si froze, then immediately understood. Exactly! Development was where the money truly went.
Fengzhou now had nearly six hundred thousand people, and most of those capable of working were employed under their lord.
Digging canals and redirecting waterways, building houses and roads, cultivating farmland and opening up wasteland…
The wages these people received were far from low. On average, each person earned at least one hundred, if not two hundred, silver taels a month.
Then there were the cement, glass, bricks, and timber needed for construction. Some projects even required iron…
The more Dong Si calculated, the quieter he became. Until he did the math, he had never realized just how much Jiang Jin had produced over the past two years—or how many people she had supported.
Seeing that he understood, Jiang Jin lowered her head and continued handling official business.
Half an hour later, Dong Si stopped writing with a beaming smile. “The total comes to ninety-six million five hundred ninety thousand taels of silver.”
Jiang Jin paused.
More than ninety-six million taels?!
Why not just say a nice, round hundred million?
No, wait. How on earth had they come up with such an astronomical figure?
This was real gold, silver, and copper coin—not the paper money and digital figures of later generations, where tens or hundreds of billions could be allocated at the drop of a hat.
Technology in this era was limited, and mining gold, silver, and copper was extraordinarily difficult. Production was low, which meant money was extremely, extremely valuable.
While Jiang Jin was still trying to make sense of it, Dong Si had already picked up the portrait of the First Prince, which he had stabbed until it was practically unrecognizable, and began apologizing with utmost sincerity.
“Your Highness, Your Highness, I misunderstood you just now. I shouldn’t have said your face was bigger than your backside. Your face is perfectly normal—about the same size as your backside.”
“My apologies, my apologies. From now on, I won’t call you a beast anymore. Beasts really can’t compare to you.”
“Hey, since you’re not saying anything, I’ll take that as your agreement—and your forgiveness.”
“Now that I look closely, Your Highness is actually rather fair and refined. Quite the handsome animal. Not bad, not bad.”
Suddenly remembering something, he looked up at Jiang Jin with concern. “My lord, I wonder whether that… whatever-his-name-is grandson the First Prince sent can make decisions?”
The silver in hand couldn’t be allowed to slip away. They had to extort as much as possible.
As for whether they actually fulfilled their end of the bargain after taking the money, that would be up to them.
Jiang Jin replied with certainty, “Of course he can.”
Dong Si brightened. “Then I’m relieved.”
Then he said regretfully, “It’s just a pity that the First Prince certainly can’t come up with that much money.”
Jiang Jin smiled faintly. “Money is merely a side issue. The real point is troops!”
Of course, that depended on the First Prince being foolish enough to follow her lead.
Under normal circumstances, all this would amount to nothing more than trading barbs with the First Prince and gaining the upper hand in public opinion. Getting any actual benefits out of him would be difficult.
Dong Si was puzzled and asked solemnly, “Please enlighten me, my lord.”
Jiang Jin lowered her head and continued working while speaking. “Aren’t we about to attack Chongzhou? As the ruler of Yan, it would be perfectly reasonable for him to send a hundred thousand troops here, wouldn’t it?”
Dong Si stared at her in shock. Then, after thinking it over, he found it perfectly reasonable indeed. “That’s right! Not only troops, but also military pay, provisions, weapons, and other equipment.”
He grew both excited and disappointed as he spoke. “Will the First Prince provide them?”
Jiang Jin replied, “Most likely not.”
Dong Si’s heart ached. After a moment, he gritted his teeth and said, “Whether he can provide them or not, we have to bring it up then. I’ll make him sick of hearing it—and let him understand exactly how much he’s capable of!”
“Hmph. Does he really think being the ruler of a nation is that easy?”
Jiang Jin smiled faintly. Far from being easy, she intended to make her dear imperial elder brother suffer a great deal.
They were all Han Chinese, and the foreign threat had yet to be eliminated. If Jiang Chun didn’t make any moves against her, she naturally wouldn’t target him either.
Unfortunately, Jiang Chun was not a particularly intelligent man—or perhaps he was simply too clever for his own good.
She quickly issued an order. “Send a message to Xie Nanxiao. Have him find an opportunity to pay a visit to the fleet from Sizhou.”
“Remember, don’t kill them,” she added.
Chongzhou, Punan Commandery.
Xia Chanyi frowned. “None of our people were injured, were they?”
Earlier that morning, the tunnel they were digging had suddenly collapsed in one section.
Luo Ah-di’s expression was grim. “Our people weren’t hurt, but two villagers…”
Xia Chanyi looked toward the two bodies lying on the ground in the distance, surrounded by villagers weeping softly.
She sighed. “Bury them properly. Those who have families will receive compensation according to regulations.”
Luo Ah-di nodded. “Understood.”
After thinking for a moment, he asked, “The villagers want the rest of their people from the village to come here as well. Do you think that would be all right?”
Xia Chanyi rejected the idea without hesitation. “No. The tunnel is of vital importance. There can be no mistakes.”
She understood the villagers’ feelings. Now that they were here, with enough food to eat, they naturally worried about the family members still starving back in the village and wanted to bring them over.
It wasn’t that she wanted to save on grain. The problem was that this place was not far from Wenxia City. The more people there were, the greater the chance they would be discovered.
Once this place was exposed, all their previous efforts would come to nothing, and their lord’s plan would fail.
It might even affect Ye Shang and the others in Wenxia City.
That was why such a thing absolutely could not be allowed to happen. It had to be prevented before it could take root.
She looked at Luo Ah-di with a solemn expression. “Remember, everything must take priority over our lord’s affairs. What our lord is doing concerns matters of the utmost importance. Everything else must come second.”
Luo Ah-di understood that Xia Chanyi was warning him. He also knew that he sometimes let his soft heart get the better of him.
Ashamed, he said, “This subordinate will remember.”
Xia Chanyi nodded. “What’s the situation with the tunnel? Do we need to change direction?”
Luo Ah-di shook his head. “Our people inspected it. We only need to shift the position slightly. Adding two more wooden supports should be enough.”
They had already dug as far as the moat surrounding Wenxia City. This section had to be excavated much deeper, and there was no way to leave a ventilation shaft. In short, it was extremely dangerous.
Only then did Xia Chanyi relax. “We need to speed things up. I’m worried the Jie troops will realize what’s happening. Have everyone work a little harder during this period.”
Luo Ah-di sensed the urgency as well and hurriedly nodded. “Understood.”
Xia Chanyi slowly walked over to the dispirited villagers. “Everyone, I know you’re grieving. We’re deeply saddened by the deaths as well, but we still have to keep moving forward.”
She looked at Zhu Liao. “Did these two men have families?”
Zhu Liao quickly replied, “They did. Zhu Da had an elderly mother, and Zhu Niu had a wife and daughter.”
Xia Chanyi nodded. “The two of them will receive compensation according to the standards for fallen soldiers.”
“Once everything has settled down, their families can be given work. As for elderly people without anyone to care for them, if they have no means of supporting themselves, we can arrange for them to live in a residential care home.”
This was something Jiang Jin had recently established for soldiers who were disabled and unable to support themselves, as well as elderly people whose children had died serving in the army and who had no other family.
It was meant to ensure that all their soldiers could fight without worries at home.
Zhu Liao stared at her in astonishment. “There’s compensation and work? And a residential care home?”
For commoners like them, their lives were considered worthless. Even if they were beaten to death for no reason, all they could do was endure it—perhaps even kneel and apologize.
Xia Chanyi nodded. “Naturally. They died for our cause. We should be responsible for compensating them and making arrangements for their families.”
“And the wages they’ve earned during this period will be paid to their families later. The same goes for you.”
