Chapter 178

Chapter 178

Can a strategist not ascend the throne? Volume 6: The Two Prefectures’ Tiger’s Roar, The Silk Road Reopens Chapter 178: Currency Circulation

It’s no wonder Mi Tang would have such thoughts.

The Qiang people’s various tribes, such as the Zhong Qiang, Canlang Qiang, and Shaodang Qiang, developed into dozens or even hundreds of branches because of an old custom from hundreds of years ago.

When a qualified leader, known as a “haogui,” emerged within a Qiang tribe, they would follow the rule of “descendants separating, each forming their own tribe,” thus branching out into an independent tribe inheriting the leader’s name.

For example, the Ling Qiang tribe branched into Dianling Qiang, Xianling Qiang, and Lingchang Qiang.

These all originated from the names of Qiang leaders.

In other words, despite the frequent infighting and mutual plundering among the Qiang tribes, if you dig deep enough, these Qiang tribes might have been one family hundreds of years ago, with differences only in their lifestyles and attitudes toward the Han Dynasty.

After Yao Chang showed them a relatively friendly attitude, compared to the Han people, she…

She should be considered one of their own.

Of course, Mi Tang still entered the Huangzhong River Valley with some caution.

Rumors had it that the Prefect of Bingzhou once burned Qiang people and buried them in the soil of Anding’s Huo Shizhai as fertilizer. In the winter, when transportation was difficult, she first lured the Qiang people in and then captured them all at once. It wasn’t an impossible scenario… right?

Thinking this way, when Mi Tang and her companions were led into the temporary shelters and served Atractylodes and Aconite Soup, her nearly frozen fingers twitched slightly, and she accepted the bowl.

She drank the warming soup in one go, finally feeling like she wasn’t exhaling cold air.

After her hands and feet gradually warmed up, she got up and went outside to observe her surroundings.

This temporary camp wasn’t as crude as she had imagined.

Instead of a shabby, wind-sheltered place, it resembled more of a military camp.

Built against a mountain, the camp was surrounded by a high earthen wall with only entry and exit passages. The slightly higher outer wall blocked the harsh winter winds.

The outer wall was also covered with snow, forming slopes on both sides, so Mi Tang didn’t notice anything unusual when she was first brought in.

In such an environment, even if the Qiang people accepted into the camp tried to organize a force to launch raids as their numbers grew, it would be a difficult task.

It felt like they were being gently confined within an earthen cage.

However, just as she felt a sense of crisis from the environment and the distant watchtowers, she saw a Qiang man pushing a cart in the twilight, giving her a friendly smile.

“…” Mi Tang withdrew her gaze from the distant earthen wall, convincing herself that without such windbreaks, the tents here, with their wooden frames and hemp cloth covers, wouldn’t be enough to keep out the cold.

This was a necessary measure.

Her gaze then fell closer.

The camp resembled a military camp because of the trenches and channels on the ground, dividing the entire camp into several sections.

This could be seen as creating further resistance for those inside, but it could also be for piling up snow when cleaning wasn’t possible.

Moreover, they had brought their horses, cattle, and sheep, which were herded into designated areas, neatly separated by these channels.

Thinking of this, Mi Tang subconsciously touched the wooden tag on her wrist.

It was issued when they entered the camp.

Although it resembled the “kebiao” used by the Qiang as burial objects, it was actually a storage tag.

The front listed the number of her cattle and sheep stored in a specific pen, while the back bore a sheep emblem, a totem for most Qiang tribes.

During the registration process, Mi Tang noticed that the procedures were orderly, and no one’s belongings were misappropriated. Otherwise, given the Qiang’s temperament, there would have been an uproar.

Thinking this, her anxiety eased a bit.

Mi Tang didn’t know that these wooden tags were referred to by Qiao Yan as “humanitarian care.”

She suddenly remembered something else—

The livestock feed she saw when storing her cattle and sheep was much better than what she usually fed them.

She wondered what the Prefect of Bingzhou aimed to achieve by going to such lengths.

But when she returned to her tent after wandering the camp, she realized that not only were the livestock eating better, but the dinner served to them was also superior to what they usually had.

This was a cognitive gap caused by a vastly different quality of life.

Of course, this meal wasn’t free.

In Liangzhou, monetary transactions were mostly limited to the wealthy. With frequent Qiang uprisings and military conflicts, the five-zhu coins were easily lost or devalued, making bartering more common among the common folk.

The Qiang people who came to the Huangzhong River Valley for the winter didn’t carry many five-zhu coins.

Fortunately, they had another option: to use the furs, fabrics, cattle, sheep, and horses they brought to offset the cost of lodging and meals at a redefined price.

This price was similar to the market rate, but when dinner was served, Mi Tang and her companions’ first impression was—

This meal was definitely worth more than its price!

Although the flatbread was a bit hard, it was filled with cheese and pickles.

Although the vegetable soup was made from dried vegetables, it was still hot.

Mi Tang carefully nibbled on the last piece of jerky, noticing it was generously sprinkled with sesame seeds, making it more flavorful than any meat they had eaten before.

After all, raising sheep and eating mutton were two different things.

Most of the time, they couldn’t bear to slaughter their sheep.

Thus, this hearty, meat-filled dinner was the most satisfying meal she had all year.

As she swallowed the last bite of jerky, her long-held worries finally eased.

With such treatment, they probably weren’t being lured into becoming future fertilizer.

Then she heard something unexpected.

“You said this is the Prefect of Bingzhou’s military rations?” Mi Tang asked the Qiang man distributing the food in surprise.

He was from the Shaodang Qiang and had joined Qiao Yan’s forces seven or eight months ago after Yao Chang’s decision.

He was used to such things and thus took on the role of guiding newcomers.

“Yes, these are military rations, so they can be supplied in large quantities,” he replied. “Once you decide where to go next, the food will change. Each place has its own characteristics. That is, if you choose to stay here.”

Should they stay?

Mi Tang weighed what she had seen.

The Prefect of Bingzhou, Qiao Yan, didn’t seem as terrifying as they had imagined. Compared to the deadly climate of the plateau, her rule over Liangzhou felt much safer.

This was exactly the contrast Qiao Yan wanted.

The Little Ice Age and Liangzhou’s environment gave her this opportunity.

In summer, the Qiang could still survive, so she needed to show “authority.” In winter, when the environment dealt a heavy blow to the nomads, she needed to show “benevolence.”

Like now, as a relatively intelligent Qiang, Mi Tang felt that the treatment they received here was like a trap, but she couldn’t help but listen intently as the Shaodang Qiang, who doubled as a guide and food distributor, explained their job options.

“It’s still winter, so agriculture and animal husbandry are on hold. The large fields in Jincheng, Wuwei, and Gaoping aren’t open to newcomers. You need to accumulate enough contribution points from December to next month to be accepted as new members next month.”

Mi Tang wasn’t sure about the contribution points, but she guessed it meant selecting the best.

The guide continued, “First, there’s the tool workshop, where they make farming tools, livestock fences, and wheels for next year.”

She couldn’t help but ask, “Why mention wheels separately?”

He explained, “You must have seen on your way here that Liangzhou needs many wheelbarrows for transportation, not just through the Riyue Mountain Pass toward the West Palace Salt Pond, but also over the Wushaoling Ridge. These carts are the easiest to travel with, but their wheels wear out quickly and need regular replacement.”

“Also, according to the pig-raising manual distributed by the Lord, when new pigs are kept together, the larger ones often eat all the food. So, old wheels can be buried vertically to create smaller pens within the pigsty, allowing smaller pigs to squeeze through the gaps.”

New wheels for transport, old wheels for pig pens—it made sense to produce them separately.

Mi Tang pondered the guide’s words and couldn’t help but smile.

Her earlier image of Qiao Yan was of a fierce general, her armor stained with Qiang blood.

But now, closing her eyes, she imagined the general putting down her spear and handing her a pig-raising manual.

Something felt off, but Mi Tang couldn’t pinpoint it.

She was too engrossed in the guide’s next words to dwell on the incongruity.

“The farming tool workshop is a bit special. They need to check if your tribe has participated in any anti-Han military actions in the past ten years. After all, dealing with iron tools requires strict scrutiny.”

Mi Tang nodded.

When the Qiang first rebelled against the Han, they used bamboo and wood as weapons and wooden tables as shields. With such crude arms, they cut off the Long Road. If they had access to hoes and iron tools, they would have been a formidable force.

Fortunately, her Canlang Qiang tribe only raided Longxi County when winters were unbearable.

But after Ma Teng and his son took over Longxi, Ma Chao drove the Canlang Qiang into hiding, and they didn’t even join Han Sui’s uprising.

This background check wasn’t a problem for Mi Tang.

What surprised her was that Qiao Yan seemed more wary of Qiang uprisings than of farming tools being stolen.

Wasn’t she afraid someone would run off with the tools?

If Qiao Yan could hear this, she would reply that in Liangzhou’s vast, barren lands, only the areas with autumn irrigation projects and strict agricultural practices could achieve high yields.

Hundreds of years ago, Wuyi Yuanjian became the Qiang’s elected leader by teaching them farming techniques.








The leader.

With such a legacy in place, the Qiang people willing to accept the “rules of the game” naturally wouldn’t choose to leave with their tools. Instead, they should gather around their new “leader” to form a larger tribal community.

Before anyone could attempt to seize farming tools and flee, Qiao Yan was confident she could make them clearly understand—only by staying here could they gain the greatest benefits!

Even more than these Qiang people, the one who should be considered an outsider to her was Liu Yu, who remained here.

The heavy winter snow blocked Liu Yu’s path back to Youzhou.

Perhaps he also wanted to see how Qiao Yan would use Lu Zhi and Xun Shuang’s disciples to teach the Qiang people to learn Han language, which is why he stayed.

But Qiao Yan didn’t need to be too wary of him.

Liu Yu’s moral standards were too high.

This was definitely not a good thing for him or for Youzhou.

Once the world changed, Youzhou’s stable livelihood, steady grain prices, and good relations with the Wuhuan could easily be turned against them in an instant.

But this wasn’t bad for Qiao Yan, as it meant he was a mascot comparable to Cui Lie.

Liu Yu clearly knew that, geographically, he and Qiao Yan were actually on opposing sides.

He could advise Qiao Yan against advancing troops out of concern for the people’s livelihood and the turmoil at the borders of the Han dynasty, but he couldn’t, while being here, transfer her methods of governing Liangzhou and Bingzhou to the eastern court.

Whether he truly thought this way or just needed to project such an image, under these moral constraints, even if Qiao Yan took a step back and handed over the military garrison of Huo Shizhai to Huangfu Song and Liu Yu to manage, all Liu Yu did was regulate the behavior of the Qiang people here and oversee food production and storage, never delving into the tools of cultivation.

Liu Yu’s “tactfulness” would eventually bring him big trouble, but this was obviously not something Qiao Yan had the leisure to concern herself with.

All she wanted was for her creations in Liangzhou to proceed smoothly and to serve as an important winter refuge for the Qiang people.

In this “city” of refuge in the Huangzhong River Valley, the guide before the Canlang Qiang people continued speaking.

“The second place is the textile office, which currently only needs to produce one thing: oilcloth, so not many people are recruited.”

He didn’t explain why this was needed, but even if the Qiang people asked, he wouldn’t be able to answer.

This was a special order from Qiao Yan.

To make oilcloth, tung oil could be used in the south, which is the most suitable material.

Unfortunately, in the relatively arid environment of Liangzhou and Bingzhou, tung trees cannot grow normally.

Fortunately, there is another oil extracted from crops already planted in these two regions that also meets the characteristics of drying oil: sesame oil.

This gave Qiao Yan the conditions to produce oilpaper and oilcloth during the winter.

“The third place is the construction office, which requires more labor.” He pointed outside the tent where snow was still falling, saying, “You should have seen that some areas need snow clearance, and river channels and water ditches need to be dug after the snow stops. There are also the transport teams you saw moving between Huangzhong and the West Palace Salt Pond, and another team responsible for the transport between Wuwei Commandery and the Northwest Salt Pond.”

“But don’t think this is just hard labor. After a few trips, if the tool wear is within limits and the amount of brine transported meets the standard, you can rest for the winter.”

For the Qiang people, traversing snowy plains seemed like an innate skill, especially with equipment to withstand the cold.

Mi Tang glanced around and noticed many were quite tempted by this option.

After all, they had seen Yao Chang’s transport team on the road, looking quite respectable from their clothing to their weapons.

The guide didn’t comment on their inclinations but continued, “The fourth place is the reception office, which you probably guessed, I belong to. But we have specific selection criteria: good appearance and communication skills, extensive knowledge of Liangzhou, and—”

“Need to speak Han language, to report to the military and civilian garrison leaders under the lord.”

“Han language?” Mi Tang’s eyes flickered.

Seeing the guide speak so fluently here, she also aspired to this position.

But just this one criterion was enough to filter out the majority.

Like her.

The guide continued, “This leads to the fifth place, which the lord has named the foreign language office, specifically for teaching the Qiang people to learn Han language, and recently added teaching the Xianbei and Xiongnu people to learn Han language.”

“If you can complete basic Han language learning in winter, not only can you get specially allocated farmland, but also a year’s worth of food. Of course, this place is not easy to enter.”

Mi Tang could guess that there must be many restrictions, otherwise everyone would be scrambling to get in.

“The lord’s intention is that if a Qiang person can learn fifty Han vocabulary words in seven days, they are allowed to stay here for further study. Regardless of whether they achieve anything this winter, they can smoothly join the military or civilian garrisons. If they succeed, they will be given important responsibilities.”

The promise of important responsibilities was not clearly defined, which made people even more imaginative.

The scenes they saw after entering the Huangzhong Valley were different from their earlier impressions, making it hard not to feel this way.

The guide gave them a friendly smile, “You can think carefully, but it’s best to decide early. After all, staying here requires paying five-zhu coins, but going to the corresponding offices not only provides formal lodging and pens but also salaries.”

Land and money…

This sounded more and more like a dream come true for the Qiang people.

Listening to the howling winter wind outside, Mi Tang tossed and turned, thinking about her options.

With the foreign language office as an option, anyone with some foresight knew they should give it a try.

But language is not something you can learn quickly just because you want to.

She often heard that it also requires some talent.

Did she have this talent?

Just as she thought this, she met a pair of eyes lit by the faint light coming through the tent seams.

Although she knew it was her bedside companion also pondering this question, or perhaps unable to sleep quickly due to the change in environment, Mi Tang was still startled.

But with many Qiang people settled in the tent, she could only whisper, “Why are you still awake?”

The companion she asked was a round-faced girl, not much older than twenty, who moved closer to Mi Tang and replied in an equally soft voice, “Before the receptionist left, I asked him a couple more questions. You know, when he said the food varies by workplace, he wasn’t kidding.”

“The creation office, benefiting from mutual aid with the agricultural department, has plenty of fruits and dried provisions. The textile office, dealing with sesame, has especially oily meals. The construction office, doing physical labor, not only has the kind of dried meat we had today but also roasted and stewed meats. The reception office even has tea and wine for dignity. The foreign language office, needless to say, shares meals with the disciples of great scholars.”

She sighed with admiration, “Now I think that Bingzhou Governor is no ordinary Han person.”

“…” Mi Tang wanted to say that this assessment should have been made when they saw the scenes within the Hehuang area, not upon learning about the food at these places!

But seeing her companion’s hopeful gaze, Mi Tang instinctively asked, “So which one do you want to eat—”

“Not that,” she quickly corrected herself, “I mean, which place do you want to go to?”

On this windy night, the Qiang people who had just entered Huangzhong were facing crucial decisions.

To stay or not? Where to go?

They needed to give a definite answer by tomorrow.

This undoubtedly made them toss and turn.

Qiao Yan was also not asleep.

She was not in Wuwei but in the study of the Jincheng Commandery’s government office.

The influx of Qiang people into Huangzhong put considerable pressure on Jincheng Commandery. Even though Cheng Yu had accumulated considerable experience managing Bingzhou’s affairs, he inevitably had to work late to prevent any mishaps.

By comparison, Qiao Yan was relatively free, so she decided to come herself.

Cheng Yu wasn’t stressed by Qiao Yan’s surprise visit to check on the work.

And knowing Qiao Yan, she clearly had something to discuss.

Sure enough, shortly after he entered, Qiao Yan asked, “Since the Qiang people entered, how many new livestock have been added to the commandery’s holdings in Jincheng?”

Cheng Yu didn’t hesitate and gave the answer: “A total of over sixty thousand heads.”

Over sixty thousand heads of livestock didn’t mean sixty thousand Qiang people had submitted.

But because it was winter, it wasn’t uncommon for livestock to fall ill and die due to poor maintenance.

For some Qiang people who came to Huangzhong, rather than keeping the livestock and bearing the loss themselves, it was better to let the commandery take care of them.

After all, the commandery would offer them a suitable purchase price.

Over sixty thousand?

Qiao Yan twirled a five-zhu coin in her hand, looking at the candlelight through its hole, pondering this number.

This was no small number.

Even the Xianbei, whom she had intimidated, only offered twenty thousand heads annually.

But this number would likely decrease soon, and Qiao Yan intended to limit its rapid increase.

Living livestock were both a resource and a significant burden.

So she came here to solve this problem.

After a moment of contemplation, she said, “The New Year is approaching. What do you think, Zhongde, if we slaughter ten thousand of these sheep and transport them to various commanderies in Bingzhou, selling them to the Bingzhou people as New Year gifts at a price slightly below the market rate?”

Bingzhou could handle ten thousand sheep, and selling them slightly below market price around the New Year could even turn a small profit. This amount wouldn’t disrupt prices.

But Qiao Yan’s goal wasn’t to make money.

Cheng Yu thoughtfully asked, “What will the five-zhu coins from selling the sheep be used for?”

Qiao Yan looked up at him and replied, “Naturally, for the wages of the five offices in Liangzhou.”

Cheng Yu stroked his beard and smiled, “Then, my lord, this is a brilliant plan!”

Although the people of Bingzhou had more five-zhu coins due to increased acreage and the commandery’s grain purchases, influenced by past consumption habits, they preferred to keep their money.

Unless there was a bargain to be had.

In contrast, the newly acquired Liangzhou was the opposite.

The people there hardly had any five-zhu coins, only goods that could be exchanged for money.

To be precise, they weren’t accustomed to using five-zhu coins, as years of war in Liangzhou had convinced them that only goods held value.

But now, Qiao Yan wanted to reshape the rules and make these people adapt to the rules she created.

The first step was—

To make money circulate!

And to gradually turn the rule of using five-zhu coins for trade into another chain that binds these Qiang people!