“Can strategists not ascend the throne?”
Chapter 297: Double-Line Attack
The rush of water surging from deep underground filled everyone who heard it with a glimmer of hope.
Their gazes instinctively wandered upwards from the well’s depths to the lifting platform above.
Such a well-drilling tool had never appeared in their minds before; they had only vaguely heard that in the government-controlled salt mines, some salt wells were dug in this manner.
Now, it had been improved upon, and one could read about it in the Leping Monthly Report, available for the price of three five-cash coins, becoming a tool for seeking survival in the midst of drought!
And here it was before them.
“Don’t just stand there, we need to keep drilling!” Someone broke the daze surrounding the crowd at the well.
Right, even though they had seen water, they were far from being able to stop yet.
Though drilling a well wasn’t quite like digging a salt mine, where after chiseling a big hole with a fan-like tool, it would take years to refine further with iron ingots weighing six hundred pounds, they still needed to dig down over ten feet more to prevent water levels from dropping further during drought, just as the newspaper instructed.
And then they’d have to widen the well path.
After all, as large as the tool was said to be, it was only about a foot and a half in width.
This meant that although water had been struck, making this well a stable source of water would realistically take another month and a half.
Fortunately, the nearby streams and their own slowly drying wells still held some water, enough to get them through this period.
“Wait, wait! Don’t rush into more work just yet.” The old man initially swayed by Yuniang to go to Qishan County interrupted the group’s effort to reset the fan-like tool.
He hurried back home to grab a small bamboo jar and then returned.
Everyone saw that the bamboo jar already had ropes on both sides, and now it was tied to a longer rope.
Handing over the bamboo jar connected to the rope, the old man said to Yuniang, “Here, go fetch some water from the well!”
“Me?” Yuniang looked at the bamboo jar in surprise.
“Who else could it be? If it weren’t for your reminder, we wouldn’t have gotten this well dug so quickly!” someone else chimed in from the side.
Yuniang accepted the bamboo jar and, pushed along by the crowd, walked to the well.
Technically, what lay before her couldn’t yet be called a well, but amidst the darkness at the bottom, the water’s surface reflected a bit of daylight from above, making it appear indistinguishable from a proper well.
The bamboo jar tied with rope was dropped into the well; due to its angle, water quickly filled the jar, causing it to stand upright and overflowing.
Yuniang carefully pulled it back up.
In this newly drilled well, some unset mud and sand were still swirling in the water, but that did nothing to diminish the looks of awe from the crowd, as if they were staring at a chunk of gold dusted off.
“The first cup of fresh well water after the drought arrived, should it be offered up?” someone asked.
Of course, in their little village of around a hundred people, they didn’t have a shrine, but it was simple enough to set up a little land deity shrine right in the middle of the village.
Instantly, someone came up with a similar idea, “Water should be offered; what about the newspaper? Shouldn’t that be offered too?”
This suggestion was immediately met with responses: “I’ll put in three coins to buy another copy from the county!”
“I’ll chip in three coins too, and replace that torn up one from March.”
“Since we’re going to the county, shouldn’t we get a scholar who usually helps write letters to read the newspaper to us again? I mean, we’ve guessed a lot of it, but what if we misunderstood something?”
This was indeed a valid concern.
Relying on pictures and guesswork so far had seemed to work fine, but that didn’t guarantee other contents could be approached the same way.
Someone added, “We should also find out when we need to return this well drilling vehicle. If there’s enough time, wouldn’t it be better to drill another well and try out the irrigation they wrote about in the newspaper? After all, we can’t just give up this year’s harvest entirely.”
“Yeah, let’s ask about that. With experience now, the next well won’t take as long!”
“Or we could discuss with them to lend us manpower and offer collateral for that iron drill so we can dig another one.”
…
Listening to her neighbors throwing out ideas left and right, Yuniang suddenly felt her eyes warm with moisture.
Since the war disaster seven years ago, most had felt that being born in this land was an ill fate, as no one knew where the calamity would strike first—from the heavens, the court, or from those barbarians of Xiliang.
Ultimately, it would show up before them in ways they couldn’t resist.
Even those living nearby no longer dared to form close bonds with their neighbors.
If tomorrow, a neighbor was conscripted or killed, it would only add another layer of pain to their already suffering lives.
But now, amid this muddled, unfortunate existence, it seemed a sign of change was emerging.
Even with the drought still lurking, it felt as if life had more hope.
This was the current reality in Guanzhong…
As the drought spread in April, it wasn’t just Yuniang’s village trying to save themselves.
Due to the existence of the Leping Monthly Report, many who didn’t live in the county also came to collect well-drilling tools.
To prevent mix-ups in collection and incorrect usage, troops stationed in Guanzhong were dispatched to various population hubs to inspect.
Meanwhile, Qiao Yan was flipping through the accounts before her, listening to Xianyu Fu, tasked alongside her for this operation, ask, “With Grand Marshal’s distribution method, is there enough iron?”
It wasn’t surprising Xianyu Fu had this question.
One fan-shaped drill required a thousand Han pounds of iron; only such weight could pierce through the underground rocks.
But a thousand Han pounds? Just think about how many weapons that could forge!
Was it really worth it to spend so much iron on just a single well?
Xianyu Fu didn’t mean to challenge Qiao Yan’s decision; he was simply feeling a bit distressed over it.
Qiao Yan replied, “Do you know this year’s drought isn’t just happening in the Central Plains?”
Xianyu Fu was momentarily bewildered, unclear why she’d suddenly changed the topic.
She continued, “Take the Xianbei steppe for example; their ideal situation is snow melting in winter to nourish the grassland and several rains in spring and summer to revive the pastures. But what happens if they get very little rain?”
Xianyu Fu had worked in Youzhou, where conditions were somewhat similar to those north of the Yanshan and Yanshan mountain ranges.
While it was said the steppes were rarely rainy, it didn’t mean it was completely devoid of it.
If it were truly that way, the steppe would quickly turn barren. For the Xianbei who depended on grazing, this would be a fatal blow.
This barrenness wasn’t just due to lack of moisture for grass growth; it was also because their livestock had devoured too much grass.
Qiao Yan wasn’t playing coy with Xianyu Fu, stating plainly, “The Xianbei Chanyu Budugen struck a deal with me; I purchased their temporarily unmanageable livestock from him and promised to provide them a temporary resting ground in Bingzhou if the drought escalated to uncontrollable levels. In return, he won’t send back the laborers who were wintering to assist in mining coal and iron works, and he might even add more manpower.”
“Similarly, the Qiang people in the River Valley are also worried about this. Rather than risk losses from breeding livestock, it’s better to store or sell them to me and join these paid work projects.”
“And you needn’t worry about wasting iron; comparatively, the fan-shaped drill doesn’t require complex manufacturing processes. Once the need for drilling decreases, they can directly be melted down and remade.”
Xianyu Fu curiously asked, “But this means the Grand Marshal’s expenses on buying livestock might be too high, right? Supplying them with feed would be a burden in both Liangzhou and Bingzhou, wouldn’t it?”
Qiao Yan shook her head, “I don’t need to keep them after purchasing; I can directly turn them into jerky for military rations.”
They’re in urgent need to rid themselves of the pressures brought by raising these livestock. Only Qiao Yan they’d met could digest this sizable livestock order. The price would surely be cheaper than raising them herself.
It wasn’t even about undercutting prices; it was merely a reciprocal choice.
During a year of disaster, while she planned to mobilize troops, the amount of grain in military rations would inevitably decrease, while the proportion of meat products would increase—this was a perfect fit for their resources.
Once the disaster year passed, the Xianbei and…
The Qiang people can finally head back to the grasslands, though some of them might have already adjusted to life within the borders and become integrated outsiders, while others will indeed need to buy livestock again.
For that part, they’ve already got enough from breeding their original cattle and sheep.
“Are there any other issues?”
Xianyu Fu replied, “None at all.”
As the captain of the Jinwu Guard, he seems to think he doesn’t need to ask so much, just assisting in notifying the villagers will suffice.
Both Xun Yu and Huang Wan, who were borrowed by Qiao Yan, seemed to ponder a bit more than Xianyu Fu.
On the surface, it looked like Qiao Yan was able to easily purchase the cattle and sheep from the Qiang and Xianbei because she had control over the currency minting— which isn’t entirely true.
She was actually accumulating wealth through mass printing of the Leping Monthly Report and selling it with a low-margin, high-volume strategy.
In these last two years, the strict oversight of the alcohol trade she imposed also brought in astonishing profits.
The soy sauce that newly entered the market also provided her with considerable earnings due to its raw materials.
So, the expenditures for purchasing livestock came significantly from these avenues, rather than abusing the power of minting currency.
Thanks to this rigorous approach, Liu Ba, who handled these economic matters, didn’t notice any issues and was able to directly regulate prices.
One cannot help but admire Qiao Yan’s performance in this regard.
However, there was one thing that puzzled both of them.
If the development of printing technology and advancements in papermaking made mass printing inevitable, and if the profits from the soy sauce and its salt raw materials tied the noble families to the Chang’an court, then this two-year liquor ban seemed to be preparing for the drought.
It’s no wonder they were generating such odd speculations.
The timing felt just too coincidental.
But the way Qiao Yan methodically arranged disaster responses yet also expressed concern for the suffering of the people didn’t provide any clues.
Moreover, how could anyone predict the weather?
If she could do that, she should have been better prepared for last year’s Huashan collapse and the Chang’an earthquake, instead of letting Yuan Shao use those events as ammunition against her.
With that thought, they felt they were overthinking things.
Rather than consider baseless possibilities, they should focus on other problems.
After settling Xianyu Fu’s duties and sending him off, Qiao Yan turned to Huang Wan and Xun Yu, saying, “There are two matters I need your assistance with.”
“Firstly, the measures to tap into groundwater for dealing with the drought in the Guanzhong area are progressing smoothly, but we can’t forget the locust plague that comes with it. Earlier, when there was enough water, we could encourage the people to irrigate their fields, but now they need to prepare for the swarming locusts directly.”
Qiao Yan looked at Huang Wan, “Minister Huang, I intend for His Majesty and the three dukes to set an example by killing locusts outside Chang’an. What do you both think?”
“This business regarding the drought and locusts shouldn’t be solely proposed by me, so I want to ask you to mention this in court.”
Locusts aren’t impossible to eliminate; it’s already been published in the Leping Monthly Report, yet some might still hesitate when it comes time to act, so a demonstration is needed.
If Qiao Yan were to be the one to lead the demonstration, it would come off as her stealing the spotlight in this relief effort, so she needed to take a step back.
After all, the people are already clear about who has brought the change, no need to quarrel over it.
Huang Wan replied, “That sounds good. Let His Majesty announce it in the Hall of Enlightenment so that more people can be aware. What’s the second matter you wanted to discuss, Grand Marshal?”
Qiao Yan replied, “It’s about the potential influx of refugees into Guanzhong.”
“I’d like to discuss with both of you how we should treat them.”
Xun Yu excels in internal affairs, and Huang Wan started from the governor’s position, so involving them in preliminary discussions before talking to court officials seemed the most sensible approach.
It’s no wonder Qiao Yan tended to consider unfavorable angles first.
The migration of population during this period differs entirely from the earlier mass exodus caused by the relocation of the Luoyang court, or the influx of people into Guanzhong after the capital settled in Chang’an; it’s more prone to trigger civil unrest.
Right now, the farmland in Guanzhong is already somewhat saturated; any excess available is either military-tied or in currently neglected irrigation planning areas.
The former cannot be surrendered by Qiao Yan in the short term since that surplus grain is crucial for supplying troops, and the latter would be quite challenging to develop.
Furthermore, these people have traveled great distances to arrive in Guanzhong, likely because they can no longer survive where they were.
In such a situation, the chance they have no stored grain is very high.
How much aid should the court allocate to ensure they feel welcomed without provoking unrest, yet not so much that it feels like a handout they take for granted?
Qiao Yan voiced her concerns.
Xun Yu responded, “Is there any possibility of not settling them in Guanzhong? I’m not suggesting moving them to Bingzhou or Liangzhou, but rather to places like Hongnong and Henan.”
“Since the capital was moved to Chang’an, the control over the superintendent’s division has never truly been recovered. Although Sima Jianguo, governor of Henan, has expressed loyalty to Chang’an, he has not stationed troops there, so this area could effectively serve as a buffer zone now.”
Seeing a contemplative look flash across Qiao Yan’s face, Xun Yu added, “If the Grand Marshal agrees, I can draft a plan for their reception.”
Qiao Yan said, “That would be much appreciated, Wenruo.”
Hongnong and Henan…
These places are indeed the most suitable!
Having Xun Yu responsible for this matter while temporarily placing the people outside Guanzhong doesn’t mean she’s abandoning her commitment to these displaced individuals.
On the contrary, it signifies she’s finally taking a step beyond Tong Pass!
Compared to the Central Plains, the coastal region of Xuzhou hasn’t seen drastic changes in water conditions due to the drought just yet.
However, as regions across the Central Plains are gearing up for disaster response, the two opposing forces along the Huai River are in a temporary truce state.
The reasons behind this truce are not entirely the same.
To the north, Zang Ba and Sun Guan from Langya County requested Liu Bei and Chen Deng for a considerable amount of stored grain in April, claiming it was a precaution against potential locust disasters that could lead to unrest among their ranks.
These folks have a history as bandits, so one can’t exactly determine whether their request will turn into outright plunder, especially since this isn’t yet the time for Liu Bei to sour relations with them.
In light of this, Liu Bei was forced to pull back some troops to establish a northern defense line.
To the south, Zhou Yu still needs to divert attention to local issues in Yang Province in this critical stage, thus reducing support for Zhang Yi.
As a result, in this truce, the group of students and teachers who just arrived in Hailing a month ago found some time to visit the shipyard to admire the newly commissioned vessels.
Gan Ning joined them, but from the moment he entered the shipyard, something felt off.
Not to mention the ceiling here was much higher than the area for constructing river-going vessels, even exceeding the height of warships.
The odors wafting through the air, along with the scattered items in sight, did not seem to indicate they were simply crafting riverboats.
Riverboats do need tung oil, but they wouldn’t use fish oil!
Riverboats might sometimes use insect-repelling paints but rarely go so far as to lavishly employ materials like realgar and ochre.
While riverboats require certain hemp fibers—like white hemp and yellow hemp—sea vessels gear toward coastal supplies.
As the four-masted sailing ship appeared before him, Gan Ning’s unsettling feeling transformed into certainty.
He suddenly turned to face Lu Lingju and Lu Yi, the ones who “brought” him here, only to find the two kids utterly unbothered by guilt, smiling encouragingly at him before admiring the ship’s joining techniques.
Their expressions seemed to imply, “Isn’t this ship pretty?”
Gan Ning’s expression was instantly as vivid as one of those paint palettes that just got flipped over.
This was simply absurd!
This ship could not possibly be meant for crossing the Huai River!
It was more suited for navigating the ocean!
He had unwittingly climbed aboard a pirate ship!
