Chapter 85 – The Young Boy’s Initial Brilliance (Part 2)
For some inexplicable reason, the examination of teachings made Jiang Pengji harbor doubts in her heart. She briefly scanned Liu Zhi’s face before partially closing her eyes.
It seemed her so-called father was hiding more secrets than she had initially thought.
However, she wasn’t one to loaf around. Liu Zhi’s actions likely meant more than just testing; they seemed more like a verification of some sort.
“I’ve studied Hujun in detail. If one wishes to survive, it’s not too difficult.”
After all, this was the place where her father had assumed office. Although the original Liu Lanting had no distinct impression of him, there existed a sense of admiration, a fervent desire to understand everything about him. Thus, her study was filled with books and materials regarding Hujun’s culture and character.
“The people of Hujun are fierce, and banditry is rampant. The local gentry and officials are in cahoots, mercilessly exploiting the common folks, making them naturally harbor intense hatred for the officials sent by the court. Moreover, due to the unique situation, Hujun’s officials are mostly hereditary, passing down their positions from father to son, essentially creating a country within a country.”
Jiang Pengji typically had a violent approach—she believed in simplifying complex matters. Surviving in Hujun was indeed straightforward.
Liu Zhi’s eyes gleamed, the confusion and hesitation on his face seemed to clear considerably. “How could it be difficult?”
“Bring over three hundred house servants for protection, and ten carts of gold, money, and grain. Don’t rush to take up the position—first, eradicate the bandits,” Jiang Pengji said with a smile, her eyes reflecting the candlelight, shining brightly, captivating all with her confidence. “The people of Hujun are notoriously fierce. How could just a letter from the court convince such scoundrels? Only with a strong military presence can we intimidate them into submission.”
“Strong forces are forged in blood. First, test the waters with a small wave of bandits. If they genuinely submit, we can recruit them. If they resist, show no mercy. Forget about a woman’s compassion. If necessary, they might all need to be exterminated to solidify our iron-fisted reputation.”
These were bandits. No matter how cruelly they were exterminated, outsiders would find no fault in it.
What seemed like a ludicrous strategy was actually a covert way to recruit capable and fierce individuals, thereby bolstering her own power.
The Liu family’s second branch has ample resources and enough funds for Liu Zhi to toy around for a year or two, scaring off those scheming gentry officials who collaborated with bandits and secretly sought to harm him.
“However, to avoid too much power attracting suspicion from the officials of the court, we could let a portion of the subdued bandits disguise themselves and blend into the mountain trails, continuing their roles as ‘bandits’ while secretly monitoring every movement in the region, including the activities of those gentry officials. In short, we should gradually nibble away at Hujun’s territory.”
Jiang Pengji’s thoughts weren’t deeply pondered; they were merely her immediate reactions.
Years of combat had instilled instincts in her that prioritized using force to solve problems.
For a tough nut like Hujun, without being ruthless and scaring them thoroughly, one wouldn’t be able to subdue them. Although the Liu family’s second branch had money, they couldn’t entirely sustain this “military force,” so deriving resources from the enemy was also a pragmatic approach to conserve funds.
As Jiang Pengji spoke, Liu Zhi’s eyes lit up more and more, while she pretended not to notice and slightly lowered her gaze. “Hujun’s poverty and fears arise from both man-made and natural disasters. Man-made disasters can be mitigated, but natural calamities are tougher to tackle.”
Liu Zhi seemed to let go of something and smiled as he asked, “But Liu Lanting seems to have it all figured out.”
“I’ve observed that Hujun’s dire situation is partly due to prolonged drought, leaving large tracts of land barren and crops unable to grow,” Jiang Pengji pointed to the Kun Yu map of Hujun. “However, beneath Hujun lies a network of water streams.”
Having meticulously reviewed the information collected by Liu Lanting, it seemed that little girl had an obsession, always yearning to be a towering figure like her father. Yet, when faced with Hujun’s problems, she couldn’t make sense of where to start.
For Jiang Pengji, this wasn’t a challenge.
As a gene warrior, she needed to adapt to various warfare environments. All knowledge related to combat was her duty to learn; one never knew when that might save her life. In the past, she had even undergone survival training in the wilderness, being thrown into ominously dubbed death traps without a weapon in sight.
Out of the one thousand participants, only she had emerged alive.
That place was utterly inhospitable to humans, where food, air, and water—essentials for survival—were daunting challenges.
Her observations of the mountain streams were developed not just from textbook knowledge but also from intense struggles between life and death.
Combining her understanding of Hujun’s cultural complexities, she found references describing the geographical features of the mountains, giving her clues about possible sources of water.
“Of course, tapping underground water sources won’t completely alleviate Hujun’s drought. ” Jiang Pengji moved her slender fingers to a significant river near Hujun, renowned as the Mother River of Dongqing, yet plagued by annual flooding from deteriorating levees.
Hujun suffered from drought, while in some areas, there was enough water to drown people.
Flooding and drought express a difficult choice—either die of thirst or drown. No matter what, death awaited; only the method varied.
The common people born in Dongqing were truly unfortunate; they couldn’t catch a break throughout the year.
“First, we should excavate an underground water source to slightly alleviate the disaster, and then gather the populace to channel tributary sources into Hujun’s rivers using their manpower.”
One couldn’t just recklessly disturb the main river; if another flood struck, one could imagine Liu Zhi would bear the brunt of it. However, diverting tributaries was manageable, lowering the work scale and time while keeping them closer to Hujun.
Upon hearing this, Liu Zhi responded with a smile, “This plan is feasible, but how can the common folks endure the heavy labor?”
Labor, in simple terms, meant unpaid physical work. Excessively taxing work often led to tragic accidents and failed to motivate enthusiasm.
Jiang Pengji pondered briefly, then replied, “What’s so hard about that? We could offer them some compensation, solely ensuring their basic meals are covered. Additionally, we should promise that after the project is completed, we can open up good farmland again, with the government providing farming tools and reducing or waiving taxes for each household.”
With compensation on the table, could the common folks’ motivation really compare to unpaid labor?
Financial rewards could serve as incentives and direction for progress.
Hujun was a unique place; Dongqing had minimal control over it, and all laws were merely lip service.
Should Liu Zhi stabilize Hujun, petitioning for reduced or waived taxes for years would be a straightforward task.
Using the court’s commands to ingratiate oneself with the people meant garnering both reputation and applause for oneself—it was a lucrative trade.
Liu Zhi probed further, “Such a monumental project would require a fortune; where will that come from? Moreover, labor practices have their rules. If this were to be implemented, not only would we face financial shortages, but we might also be jointly impeached by others.”
If this were truly executed, a charge of rebellion might just come crashing down.
