Chapter 1236 – Preparations for War, Rest and Recuperation (15)
According to the traditional customs of previous years, Jiang Pengji would host a New Year’s feast, inviting her civil and military subordinates to gather for a meal and a chance to bond.
In the past, with just a few kids in her ranks, the New Year’s feast was nothing more than a simple get-together with some roasted meat and a hot pot. Now, however, the scale had grown, and her followers had significantly increased. Besides the core members, over the past two years, many new mid-level talents from the Golden Scales Pavilion had joined.
Naturally, Jiang Pengji wanted them to participate in such activities, so they could experience a broader world.
With the increase in participants, the venue also needed to be upgraded for the event.
To ensure the smooth running of the New Year’s feast, Jiang Pengji arranged seating according to everyone’s status.
The core members could drink with her, while the lesser talents were distributed across various side halls for their feasts.
Jiang Pengji initially intended to continue the tradition of having her subordinates perform for entertainment, but this suggestion was rejected by the Audience.
[Old Driver Alliance]: While having subordinates perform could increase participation, doing so every year isn’t ideal. Those who have followed you for a long time understand your temperament, but those mid-level folks don’t. If you enforce it, it might backfire on your reputation.
[Genius Guo Fengxiao]: I think a tiered approach works better. Having the ministers dine with you indicates a closer relationship, so there’s no need to be overly formal. Since they’re all family, let them perform if they wish. For those in the side halls, no need to specially arrange singers or dancers; selecting folk artists would be more down-to-earth.
Jiang Pengji disliked spending silver on extravagant singers and dancers; such a lavish lifestyle didn’t fit her style.
If she were to make exceptions for a group of mid-level personnel, it wouldn’t sit well with her.
The Audience brainstormed and proposed a compromise.
This way, it allowed her subordinates to foster friendlier relations with the common people while clearly distinguishing status and igniting their ambition.
A leader who is friendly to their subordinates is indeed a good leader, but they should also let them understand the importance of hierarchy and proximity!
Jiang Pengji had thought of this herself, so naturally, the Audience’s suggestion resonated with her.
“Then let’s have the theater troupe choose some lively and cheerful performances that are friendly to the common folk—”
After speaking, Jiang Pengji added, “It’d be best if they were new performances.”
The influence of Wanzhou was booming, and the entertainment industry was flourishing alongside the economy and population growth.
With Jiang Pengji’s permission, Wei Ci vigorously promoted novelists and related industries, using entertainment to control public opinion.
After several years of implementation, the results were remarkable.
Under Wei Ci’s brainwashing techniques, the common folk of Wanzhou had already come to see her as a deity, with gender being a trivial matter.
Who wouldn’t see countless men and women yearning day and night, just for a glance from Jiang Pengji?
Wei Ci was the go-to person for this, and anyone could see his talents in this area.
If Wei Ci weren’t from ancient times, the Audience might suspect he was a time traveler.
Such methods weren’t unusual in the present era, but in an ancient time where the entertainment industry was scarce, it was groundbreaking.
Yet, despite Wei Ci’s efforts over the years, the entertainment scene remained vibrant.
Not only did Jiang Pengji not have to foot the bill, but Wei Ci also earned a substantial amount for her private coffers each year.
Previously, no one had dedicated time to this, so Wei Ci’s endeavors had raised no suspicions—or rather, people didn’t believe that street performers and storytellers could sway public opinion, thinking that was beyond imagination.
They looked down on and scoffed at entertainers, naturally not suspecting the underlying dangers of such a group.
Previously used public opinion strategies hardly went beyond composing a few ballads and relying on rascals and children to spread them.
Wei Ci’s organized and disciplined approach to controlling evaluations was virtually unprecedented.
Wei Ci said, “If we’re introducing new performances, it would be better for everyone to watch together to avoid favoritism.”
Jiang Pengji pondered for a moment and agreed, “You have a point; let’s inform them to make preparations for the new plays.”
The entertainment industry was gradually finding its footing and developing various related sectors.
Noticing this, Wei Ci simply established an official theater troupe.
What’s this theater troupe, you ask?
It’s quite akin to what the Audience knows as a pear garden, resembling a group of performers.
Actors would perform from officially provided novel scripts while enjoying a basic salary from the government.
If common folk tipped generously, the performers would also receive a share of the earnings.
Live performances of novel content were far more entertaining than mere storytelling.
Whenever the theater troupe set up for a performance, crowds would block a hundred-zhang radius, bustling with excitement.
The common folk of Wanzhou awaited the new plays like the Audience anticipates web novels being adapted into live-action, a mix of pain and joy.
However, the former lacked the latter’s rich entertainment options since Wanzhou’s entertainment industry was still under official control, leaving the folk with little choice; just getting their favorite novels adapted was a blessing, so they watched eagerly, utterly engrossed.
While Jiang Pengji busied herself with governance, she also organized everything for the New Year’s feast, hardly finding a moment to rest.
Han Yu, Qin Gong, and others were attending the New Year’s feast for the first time, and not knowing many customs, they could only privately consult the Old Driver.
“For those with families, bring them along; for those without, bring an appetite. The New Year’s feast is meant for enjoyment, so no need to be overly cautious,” Yang Si chuckled. “As for the rest, the dishes for this year will differ. I’ve heard there will even be fruits and vegetables this year—”
Typically, winter meals consisted mostly of meat or preserved goods; the thought of vegetables or fruits was nearly absurd.
“Fruits and vegetables? At this time of year?”
Han Yu expressed doubts about Yang Si’s claims.
He had tricked Yang Si before; who could guarantee that the petty Yang Si wasn’t setting him up?
“I’ve heard it was Zhang Ping from the Woodworking Workshop and Shao Guang who figured this out. You know the northern weather is quite cold, and the even harsher Northern Abyss is frozen all year round. To endure the bitter cold, the common folks pooled their ideas and came up with a clever solution. That’s how the warm kang was invented,” Yang Si explained. “This contraption could warm a room like spring, allowing spring and summer fruits and vegetables to ripen in winter; it’s just that it’s a bit pricey—”
Yang Si, a food enthusiast, was quite picky about his palate.
Eating fruits and vegetables in winter was something he had dreamed of.
Now that this wish was coming true, he naturally supported it wholeheartedly.
Han Yu frowned, “Inopportune and out of season, is it harmless to eat?”
People believed that “strange occurrences often have hidden dangers,” and if fruits and vegetables ripened out of season, wasn’t that a sign of malice?
Confucius also said, “Do not eat what’s out of season,” meaning you shouldn’t eat things that are not in accordance with the seasons.
Han Yu’s mindset wasn’t outdated; rather, it was the prevailing thought of the time. Jiang Pengji’s goal was to help them get accustomed to “technology changing life.”
