Mo Song saw his father's face beginning to turn green again and hurriedly changed the subject. “Father, now that you've come, why don't you stay here instead of returning to Sizhou?”
Mo's father gave a cold snort. “You certainly changed your tune quickly.”
Mo Song sighed. “Father, I'll take you somewhere this afternoon. Once you see it, you'll understand why my choice was the right one.”
The place Mo Song was referring to was the farmland near Geyang's three villages, now known as the Harvest Farmland District.
Mo's father stared at the heavy rice panicles in disbelief. “This... this is rice?”
Mo Song nodded. Carefully, he plucked off a grain that had already begun to turn yellow, removed the husk, and revealed the plump grain of rice inside.
“Look, it's rice. This entire stretch is planted with it. I've heard the yield can reach around fifteen hundred jin per mu.”
As he spoke, his face flushed red. Born into a wealthy family, he had never gone hungry, but he knew that food was the foundation of a nation.
With such an exceptional crop, the soldiers and common people could finally eat their fill, and the country could support many more people.
This was something no ruler in the past had ever managed to accomplish. Yet Princess Jinyang had done it!
Mo's father's hands trembled as he took the grain of rice and placed it in his mouth, chewing it slowly and carefully.
Rice that had not fully matured or been dried was not particularly hard, but he was old and his teeth were no longer strong. He chewed for quite a while before finally breaking it down. A distinct fragrance of rice spread through his mouth, making it tingle with a faint sourness.
“What are you doing?”
A sharp shout interrupted his thoughts.
Mo's father looked up and saw a group of farmers hurriedly running over with hoes in their hands.
Mo Song quickly stepped in front of his father and explained, “We're residents of Geyang. We heard that the crops here are exceptionally productive, so we came to have a look.”
As he spoke, he handed over a permit approved by the local government.
The Harvest Farmland District was so famous that many people came to visit it. To address the various problems this created, Luo Qingci had placed the area under semi-closed management.
There were arrow towers surrounding the district, which could prevent people from entering or leaving without inspection.
Therefore, aside from the people who already lived in the three villages and the agricultural workers, anyone else who wanted to enter the Harvest Farmland District had to register with the local government and obtain approval first.
The elderly farmer leading the group took the permit and lowered his head to read it.
He was Ma Feng, who had fled the famine from Sizhou with Mu Ning back then. He had since become a household head and was responsible for the rice paddies in this area.
The harvest season was approaching, and when he saw people lingering nearby for so long, he had hurried over out of concern that they might steal the grain.
He had also attended literacy classes and could recognize the characters on the document.
After reading it for a while and confirming that everything was in order, he returned the permit and reminded them, “Don't get too close to the rice fields. You might accidentally crush the rice.”
As far as he was concerned, the authorities should never have allowed people to enter in the first place. Letting others gaze upon such heaven-sent grain too often felt disrespectful to it.
Truly, he had lived this long and had never seen crops with such an astonishing yield.
As an old farmer who had spent his entire life working the land, he often felt anxious whenever he looked at the crops. He was filled with both anticipation and apprehension.
He frequently found himself unable to sleep at night. He would carry a lantern and walk through the rice fields, afraid that something might happen to the crops.
This had even alarmed the soldiers on night patrol several times, but he still could not stop himself. His feet seemed to carry him there of their own accord. He wished he could watch over the crops every moment of every day; only then could he feel at ease.
Mo's father did not take offense at his attitude. Instead, he asked with a smile, “You farmers live here? Is this your field?”
Ma Feng waved his hands. “We're the farmers here, but the fields belong to our lord. We work for him.”
As he spoke, he straightened his chest with pride. In the past, whenever he encountered people who were either rich or powerful, he had hardly dared to raise his head. Now, however, he could speak loudly without fear.
Both his children had joined the military. His was a proper military family.
And he himself had become a household head, so he had plenty of confidence now.
Seeing that he remained neither servile nor overbearing, Mo's father grew curious. “When farmers like you work the land for the princess, do you pay rent?”
“Of course not,” Ma Feng replied with a smile. “We receive wages. From time to time, there are additional subsidies as well. During the New Year and other festivals, for example, they distribute rice and grain to us.”
He sighed with emotion. “In all my years, this is the first time I've encountered such a good lord and such a good government.”
“Back when we fled the famine to Sizhou, we even came down with an epidemic. Ah...”
That single sigh conveyed all the suffering and despair of the human world.
Mo's father immediately thought of the epidemic outside Jiu'an City the previous year. “Were you among those who arrived outside Jiu'an City last year?”
Ma Feng froze. “How did you know?”
Mo's father sighed as well. “Fate brought us together. We came from Sizhou's Jiu'an too.”
Ma Feng grew wary. “You came from Jiu'an?”
Mo's father laughed heartily twice. “Yes. Now that we've come here, we have no intention of going back.”
Only then did Ma Feng relax. He said with deep feeling, “That's right. Fengzhou is good. It's better not to go back.”
He had been overly cautious. Since the local government had approved these people's entry, there should not be any serious problem.
Mo's father nodded with a smile. “How are you living now?”
At the question, a smile appeared on Ma Feng's face. “Well.”
He pointed toward the rows of blue-brick, tiled houses in the distance. “That's my home. We only bought it recently. We didn't have enough money, so the government gave us a loan.”
“Several members of my family are working, and my children receive military pay every month. If our whole family pulls together, we should be able to pay it all back within a few years.”
Following the direction of his finger, Mo Song and his father looked over. In the distance stood neat rows of blue-brick courtyards.
Ma Feng was pointing to one directly facing them.
At that moment, a chicken flew onto the courtyard wall. An elderly woman inside immediately rushed over with a broom and swept it back into the yard.
Ma Feng smiled. “The rice is almost ripe now, so we can't let the chickens out. They'll eat the rice. When I get home, I'll trim their feathers again.”
This slice of ordinary life, so full of human warmth, completely overturned Mo Song's impression of farmers.
He opened his mouth, but it took him a moment to ask, “Did the princess build these courtyards and sell them to you?”
Ma Feng nodded. “That's right. My family is a military family, so we receive quite a few preferential policies. We were able to buy this house at a much lower price.”
He sighed with emotion. “Before this, I never imagined that farmers like us could live in such a fine house.”
Mo's father pointed toward a large compound farther away. “Whose house is that? Why is it so big?”
The compound had a broad entrance, with guards standing outside. There were characters on the plaque above the gate, but it was too far away for them to make them out.
“That's a school,” Ma Feng explained. “My grandchildren all study there. It's close by, so they come home for lunch every day.”
Mo's father was stunned. “Your village has a school?”
Ma Feng looked at him suspiciously. “Don't you know that everyone in Fengzhou has to attend literacy classes? Even an old farmer like me has to study, let alone the children.”
“It's not just here. The other villages have schools too. Any family with children of the right age has to send them to school. Otherwise, they won't be able to find work in the future...”
As they listened to the old farmer describe his life and his plans for the future, Mo Song and his father saw that he was calm and self-assured, entirely free of the timid inferiority that farmers had once displayed whenever they encountered people of higher status.
The two of them fell silent.
On the way back, Mo's father asked, “Are you planning to serve as an official in Fengzhou?”
The impact of what he had seen today had been enormous. He still had not fully recovered from it.
Mo Song nodded. “Yes, but I’m currently learning simplified Chinese characters. Once I’ve mastered them, I’ll go and offer my services. Then we’ll see how my lord chooses to arrange things.”
Mo’s father gave a cold snort. “You’re quick to call him your lord. He may not even want you.”
Mo Song, who had already lacked some confidence, felt as though he had taken a direct hit. “…Although my talents and learning are limited, securing an official position in Fengzhou shouldn’t be difficult.”
Mo’s father fell silent again for a long while. Gazing at the crops heavy with fruit, he murmured, “If everyone can read and write, then families like ours, as well as those noble clans, will lose our advantages entirely. Without hereditary privilege and monopolies, the world of tomorrow…”
“Will belong to the common people.” Mo Song finished his sentence, his voice tinged with melancholy. “Whether we’re from official families or noble clans, we’ll all have to compete.”
“The teacher here calls it healthy competition.” He looked at his father. “But we have a strong foundation. We’ve already gotten a head start. I have nothing to fear.”
Mo’s father continued to gaze outside, but a smile gradually spread across his eyes. This son of his seemed somewhat different from before.
Just as he was about to speak, he spotted a vaguely familiar figure in the distance. It took him a while to recall who it was, and he hurriedly called for the carriage to stop.
“Elder Mu, is that you?” He climbed down from the carriage and looked toward Mu Qing, who was enjoying the shade beneath a large tree.
