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“Can strategists really not ascend to the throne?”
Chapter 138: Flying High in the Sky
This fire…
It could easily ignite a person as well.
At this moment, Wei Ji was incredibly relieved that he had already taken a stand earlier. After Qiao Yan sent Lu Yuan to persuade him with words like, “Recognize wisdom, conceal flaws, and seize the opportunity,” he pondered and did not miss the chance to support the noble families in restoring order.
He could be sure this decision wasn’t hasty just because he too counted himself among the youth, or because the Hedong Wei family back then lacked a critical stepping stone and had been limited to Anyi.
It was because he clearly saw the hope she wove in the midst of chaos.
This was far from being a rootless flower.
Since crossing the Yellow River, to facilitate the migration of the people from Luoyang, Qiao Yan arranged for the carts and horses from Bingzhou to supply those with some residual wealth, while she set up many temporary rest stops along the way from Hedong to Taiyuan County on the north bank of the Yellow River.
Understand that people’s migration—especially when moving a whole family—takes much longer than a large military march. It could take several days.
Now in the summer, while Qiao Yan was grateful that it wasn’t the harvest season yet and could still engage the Bingzhou army in agricultural tasks, employing the local people to assist with the migration wasn’t a terrible idea, but she was worried about the risk of heat strokes.
Fortunately, after entering Hedong, most of the roads followed the Fen River, allowing for easy access to water and smooth pathways, significantly reducing the fatigue of the migration.
The floating bridge over the river would last at least two months.
By the time the first batch of relocated people settled in Bingzhou, she would likely have a chance to bring in another wave, but she’d first need to digest these two batches of people before considering further expansion.
However, by that time, she likely wouldn’t be limited to just Bingzhou…
With this meticulous plan in mind, Qiao Yan rode back to the state capital, confirming all the resting spots and related signs along the way.
Cai Zhaoji clearly understood the intentions conveyed in the letter she sent to Qiao Yan for returning to Bingzhou.
To ensure the public could allocate their strength reasonably while grasping the signals from Bingzhou, Zhaoji led children of similar ages from Leping Academy to create these signposts.
These signs brought a smile to people’s faces as they traveled.
With a childlike touch, they painted on wooden supports, and it didn’t hinder the effective communication of the needed signals.
Ren Hongchang followed Ma Lun and naturally didn’t have to walk into Bingzhou. She sat in the makeshift open cart and clearly saw this passing sign.
Closest to them was a sign painted with a kettle and a sleeping area, topped with a cover, with a notation indicating it was a mile away.
Noticing Ma Lun watching the sign for a bit longer, she asked, “Do you think this is any different from other places?”
Maybe it was because Qiao Yan showed such hospitality to the new arrivals in these little details; those who should have been worried about leaving their homes instead displayed a sense of hope, causing Ma Lun to relax a bit.
Ren Hongchang shook her head. “No, it’s not just that.”
She looked at the distant mountains, the Qing Mountains flanking the Fen River were hazy in the sunlight, seeming not quite different from other peaks at first glance, but—
“My teacher might not know, but I’m actually from Bingzhou.”
Since Ma Lun decided to accompany Qiao Yan to Bingzhou, she could no longer be officially addressed as the Grand Historian. She let Ren Hongchang just call her teacher.
She replied, “I can’t tell from your accent that you’re from Bingzhou.”
“I went to the capital just before I turned four because my father took up an official post there. Later, he fell into disgrace, and my sister and I were taken to the palace. My sister died early, leaving me all alone in the palace.” Ren Hongchang straightened her posture again and said, “Let’s not dwell on sad things; let’s talk about Bingzhou.”
As they spoke, they passed another sign, this one painted with a steaming cake. It was unclear whether this sign aimed to inspire travelers to think of a warm meal or just made them hungrier by glancing at it.
Ren Hongchang’s nostalgia was quickly dissipated by this sign, and she continued, “My memories of Bingzhou don’t seem to match this.”
When she left Bingzhou, it was during the time when Tan Shihuai established his rule on the mountains of Banhanshan.
As a leader of the Xianbei, Tan Shihuai divided his territory into three parts, with Bingzhou belonging to the western portion, ranging from Shanggu County to Dunhuang, which raided annually, contributing to an atmosphere of unrest even in Taiyuan County.
Yet now, as she surveyed her surroundings, the carts passing through the valley between two mountains weren’t hindered by any plans disrupted, nor did they look less well-dressed and healthy compared to the residents relocating from Luoyang.
The driver escorting them overheard her and chimed in, “You’ll be even more surprised up ahead.”
This was because the Fen River flowed from north to south at the foot of the Ningwu Guancun mountains, and they were heading toward the source.
The scene before them seemed to be moving toward a place filled with confidence in drawing people in.
Even without the driver’s encouragement, Ren Hongchang noticed that this road toward Jinyang seemed much smoother than the usual paths, at least having undergone some filling and repairs.
This wouldn’t seem strange elsewhere, but in frequent Bingzhou, it felt somewhat odd.
She thought this and voiced her question.
“You mean this? We didn’t build this,” the driver replied. “It was two years ago… or was it last year? The lord hadn’t become lord yet when he wiped out the bandits hiding in the Taihang Mountains. He proposed a rule for redeeming lives with Hu people’s heads, but despite three attempts at attacking the border, the lord likely realized they weren’t cut out for fighting.”
“In winter, during the period when no battles were fought, surplus soldiers participated in the road construction within the state. This year, only those not suited for combat were allowed to exchange work for food based on the distance repaired, specifically from the state capital to Hedong.”
“We who don’t venture out of Bingzhou haven’t felt much change, but merchants traveling to and from Bingzhou in April and May have certainly experienced improvements.”
Qiao Yan had considered this.
First, fix the internal roads, then work on the external ones. Given that Bingzhou’s military strength was adequate to protect their interests, there was indeed capital to leverage traders for outward promotion.
Chu Yan, holding the position of gatekeeper of Bingzhou, sufficiently guarded against ill-intentioned thieves.
Moreover, she hadn’t attempted to dredge up anything like cement roads that didn’t quite fit the times, simply making some repairs to the potholes, minimizing waste of military resources, while perfectly facilitating the relocation of Luoyang residents.
The driver’s explanation sounded simple, but Ren Hongchang, who had some recollections of Bingzhou’s former conditions, felt this was certainly no easy task.
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“This situation is more chaotic than I expected.”
The invasion of Tan Shihua was like opening a floodgate, and in this wrecked land, the poor only got poorer while the rich got richer. Those bandits claiming to fight for survival were mostly just robbing the easy pickings.
However, these days, it seemed these folks had turned into laborers for Bingzhou.
As the horse-drawn carriage continued moving and entered the open fields visible ahead, she began to grasp what the driver meant by “even more surprising.”
Having spent many years in the palace, she hadn’t wandered outside in ages; crossing the Yellow River from the northern outskirts of Luoyang, she couldn’t even see the farmlands of Luoyang. Still, even with poor harvests in recent years, she had picked up some gossip.
Before reaching Taiyuan, they passed through Hedong and saw plenty of farmland within the jurisdiction of the Si Li.
Hedong was indeed still a prosperous area, fed by the Fen River, but it couldn’t compare at all to the scene in front of her!
“This is the district farming method,” Ma Lun, well-versed and knowledgeable, immediately identified the nearby fields as being cultivated through trenching and sowing.
It was mentioned in the Book on Agricultural Practices.
But to implement the district farming method, you need a lot of manpower and resources, especially since heavy fertilizers are required between the districts. It’s usually only practiced in the smaller, high-standard plots of the wealthy landlords, making widespread implementation very difficult.
During her time supervising the Yuan Clan’s household, she’d inspected their properties, and only a few fields managed to adopt such techniques.
But the gradual signs of abundant harvests were right before her eyes, looking like a successful initiative that had already been rolled out. It left her astounded.
Considering the driver’s demeanor, this scene probably wasn’t unique to this area, and the implications behind it were quite intriguing.
First, Bingzhou likely improved its agricultural tools, allowing deep plowing and weeding to be successfully implemented.
Second, they needed to educate the local people on these planting techniques in a way that they could easily grasp.
Finally, there had to be something new regarding fertilizer—after all, just piling up manure wouldn’t yield the results before her.
This change seemed to stem from more than just quantity.
Indeed, she soon heard the news she wanted from the driver.
“This is the achievement of the Lord Governor and Officer Qin; they took the standards for deep trench farming and posted diagrams on Leping Academy paper across the counties. They also brought out the curved plow and iron rake during the planting season, and the new fertilizers in these fields were spread widely as directed by the Lord Governor.”
“Do you know how much we yielded per mu in Bingzhou last year?”
The driver’s tone was a bit proud, which made Ma Lun smile appreciatively.
He didn’t regard them as high-ranking folks from the big city but recounted the various improvements in Bingzhou, enough to showcase Qiao Yan’s success as the governor.
She didn’t interrupt the driver’s eager pride but listened attentively as he continued, “Compared to the White Dao River overseen by Lord Qiao, it’s still a bit less, with only around five stones per mu.”
“Cough…” Ren Hongchang coughed, stunned.
Five stones? What does that even mean!
Is that how you use those two words?
Ma Lun patted her back while still maintaining a warm smile at the driver. She pointed to the surrounding fields and said, “From the looks of your crops this year, I’m betting it’s more than just five stones.”
“You’ve got a keen eye,” the driver commended her. “This year, following the Lord Governor’s advice, we buried bone meal fertilizer before planting in some fields. With last year’s experience, we understand these farming methods better, so we’re definitely hitting six stones per mu.”
“Plus, the Lord Governor hasn’t imposed any new taxes this year, and since the previous emperor passed away, the land tax decreed by him was lifted. For folks like us, that means we can finally live well.”
Although it wasn’t particularly right to express joy over the emperor’s passing, the lifting of the land tax felt like a blessing that spread from Leping to all of Bingzhou.
“My eldest son is in the Lord Governor’s army. While stationed at Yanmen, he managed to sh**t a few Hu people and brought back seventy stones of grain in addition to his military salary. That’s real income! With the increase in yield, if things go well for another two years, I might even be able to afford to have my second son know a few more characters and pass the entrance exam for Leping Academy,” the driver said, eyes sparkling with hope.
Ren Hongchang listened and thought, this really wasn’t the Bingzhou she remembered!
That Lord Qiao was truly impressive!
Feeling admiration, she noticed when they arrived at the post station, just as Qiao Yan entered with her personal guards, her gaze was sharply focused on her.
This unabashed look made it impossible for Qiao Yan to ignore it.
As soon as she raised her eyes, she met Ren Hongchang’s overly stunning face.
No longer needing to maintain a demure stance, having wiped off the yellow powder from her face, she appeared even more striking.
Qiao Yan casually inquired about her name. Upon learning she used to be a lady-in-waiting identified with Diao Chan in the palace, a subtle smile crossed her eyes.
“What does Hongchang mean?” she asked.
Ren Hongchang nervously replied, “It means prosperous and flourishing.”
“How about I give you a new name?” Qiao Yan asked playfully.
At this moment, Ren Hongchang had found a refuge in Bingzhou. Just like Cheng Yu’s name change was a form of grace from the lord, proposing to rename Ren Hongchang symbolized her importance to Qiao Yan.
Seeing her nod in agreement, Qiao Yan called for paper and brush from her attendant, wrote a single character, and handed it to Ren Hongchang.
She took the paper and saw the character read—
“Hong.”
Ren Hong?
“Isn’t this name a bit too masculine?” Ren Hongchang quietly asked.
Qiao Yan laughed and replied, “Hong feathers don’t fly low; amidst heaven and earth, who says this character is only for boys?”
She glanced at the assistants Ma Lun had brought to Bingzhou, and the hopeful look in her eyes was unmistakable.
Even without Ren Hongchang suddenly looking her way, she would’ve wanted to come around more often.
To nurture these girls with some literacy and arithmetic skills into talents was a far quicker process than raising children from infancy to adulthood.
This, truly, was the most valuable asset she had brought back from Luoyang!
The emotion conveyed in her gaze reached those she was watching, stirring something deep within her.
When she served in the Han Palace as Diao Chan, she was merely a symbolic title, not someone who held people’s hopes in her name. Yet, what she saw along the roads of Bingzhou shone a glimmer of hope in that orderly paradigm.
And this renaming represented a fresh start.
Ren Hong held the Leping Academy paper with the character “Hong” written on it, nodding heavily, “I’m going with this name!”
