Zhao Su dared not linger any longer — his agreed meeting time with Jiang Zheng was practically upon him, and it was already clear he could not make it. He remained unruffled, asking Witch Twin whether she wanted to return with him, or whether she needed him to pass her official documents back to Witch Ren, while simultaneously calculating what he had to do next.
Witch Twin smiled and said, “Thank you so much! You have important matters to attend to — don’t let me hold you up. I’ll send things back myself; I have other errands to run along the way.”
Zhao Su did not belabor the point. He led his party to horse and rode off in a cloud of dust. Even on the road, his mind did not rest: Jiang Zheng — he would have to negotiate with him in person. But he had already missed the agreed time, so he would have to give Jiang Zheng an explanation and prepare some distinctive gifts. He absolutely had to send that blacksmith to the field headquarters — he could arrange for Xiang Le to handle that. Oh, and there was also the matter of levying grain and conscripting soldiers, and the relocations…
By the time he arrived at Zhù County, five full days past the deadline had elapsed. Zhao Su hurriedly changed his clothes, had someone bring out some local specialties, and had already settled on an excuse for Jiang Zheng — he would say that contact with the Western Tribes had caused the delay. The Western Tribes merchants wanted to purchase tea and such goods, and the Elder Matriarch was currently considering the matter. The matter of iron, he decided not to raise yet — it was better to keep a card up his sleeve.
After issuing his instructions to Xiang Le and the others, Zhao Su went to see Jiang Zheng.
Jiang Zheng had already waited in Ji Yuan Prefecture for several days. With no response from Wuzhou, he had not dared to leave lightly, fearing some unexpected development that he could not address in time. When Zhao Su finally arrived, Jiang Zheng first looked him over — completely unharmed — and only then resumed his stern expression and demanded: “What sort of eccentric calendar does Wuzhou use? ‘Five days later’ means today?”
Zhao Su duly brought out the Western Tribes as his excuse, but Jiang Zheng suddenly asked: “Hasn’t the Wuzhou Su clan long had a tea trade with the Western Tribes? The road is not exactly easy to travel, and the quantities cannot be very large. To delay grain shipments for this — that doesn’t add up. I haven’t heard of any famine in Wuzhou. Could it be they are stockpiling grain and readying troops? What is Zhù Zizhang up to?”
Well! He actually had some real ability!
Zhao Su of course could not admit to anything. He said: “If there has been no natural disaster, how could the Elder Matriarch’s domain be short of grain? The abundance that the entire south enjoys today is also a credit to her old efforts. It is merely a temporary cash-flow issue. The Elder Matriarch’s meaning is this: since your heart is also with the common people, she would not be at odds with them. As for salt, we will guarantee supply at stable prices. As for grain, we can purchase a little less — we only need to turn things around during this brief window. Once we’ve cycled the funds through, even if you wished to sell us more later, I fear we would not be able to take so much.”
Jiang Zheng said: “Among Zhù Zizhang’s students, your cunning is the most faithfully inherited.”
“You flatter me.”
The two then resumed their haggling over the figures. Jiang Zheng did not speak of an outright embargo, but he slashed the quantities considerably. Zhao Su did not press too hard in his counterbargaining, lest Jiang Zheng see the urgency behind it and grow more suspicious.
When they finally hammered out an agreement, both sides let out a quiet breath of relief. Very rarely did an official maintain a grip over local affairs the way Zhù Ying did — Jiang Zheng’s reach did not extend to the garrison troops, so his bargaining position was not especially strong, and Zhao Su likewise did not dare to fight on two fronts at once. Having settled things, both kept their faces carefully composed so as not to betray too much emotion.
The grain Wuzhou could purchase had been reduced by two-thirds. Zhao Su cast a slightly worried glance to the west. They had planned this campaign for three years, and only one full year had passed — the next two years would be harder than the last, each more difficult than the one before. If the fighting could be concluded early, that would be a blessing.
Among all of Zhù Ying’s subordinates, governing a territory and ensuring its people were fed and clothed was a talent that could stand at the very forefront when measured against all under heaven.
Let us hope for an early victory!
——
While Zhao Su was lost in these reflections, Zhù Ying was busy inquiring about the iron mines.
Within the territories of Xika and Jima there was coal, there was native gold, there was iron, and scattered among them were quite a few other valuable things — but all of it sat in the hands of various chiefs, great and small. People like Zhù Qingjun had “recovered” some of these, yet faced the same familiar problem: no spare attention to manage them properly. What Zhù Ying needed to do now was get these places back into production as quickly as possible.
Mining was an even harsher life than the salt pan laborers had — at least the salt workers could see some sunlight; the deep mountain mine shafts were dark without a trace of daylight. Some of the deep pits were worked by people carrying ore up on their backs, and if the shaft edge collapsed without warning, you would be buried alive. To be buried and crawl out still living was no pleasant experience either. Most of the labor here was done by slaves, with a small number of impoverished freemen.
The swarthy, short-statured Feiyangexi had been summoned before Zhù Ying again and was describing the situation at the mine. When Zhù Qingjun had parted from him, she had made a point of saying: “The Elder Matriarch is a very good person.” Those were easy words to hear and easy to set aside — but Zhù Qingjun had killed the chiefs and overseers who had abused them and had given everyone extra rations. Feiyangexi looked back at the companions around him, steeled himself, and with a try-and-see attitude, came to the gate of the camp.
The moment anyone stepped into the main camp, they felt the difference in atmosphere. There were many women armed with blades and spears here. Even the lowest-ranking people here had a complete set of clothing; their faces were clean, they had shoes on their feet, and their bodies bore only the wounds of blades and swords — not the marks of a whip. They did not look gaunt and hollow-eyed. Their laughter was genuine.
Feiyangexi felt his own heart ease a little. He still remembered what he was here to do — to seek a way to survive, for himself and his companions. The chief who had overseen Feiyangexi did not casually kill miners, since miners were already easy enough to lose through ordinary attrition and still needed to be kept alive to work. But the overseers and the chief made them toil for far too many hours each day. Even if everyone could sleep a little longer — just a little — that would be something. Even if they could drink two more bowls of water, and if the drinking was done above ground, and if they could straighten their backs for the length of a drink, that would be even better.
The chiefs had described Zhù Qingjun and the others as terrifying demons, and Zhù Ying as the chief of all those evil spirits. At the first meeting, Zhù Ying spoke the Jima tongue — that made Feiyangexi feel considerably better.
Zhù Ying asked his name, asked him about conditions at the mine, and discovered that this slave — though illiterate and knowing only the Jima tongue — was a very sharp-minded man. He had never studied arithmetic, but he could count. He was not the chief-appointed overseer, yet he knew everything that happened at the mine: he could call out the miners by name and tell you about their family situations.
Zhù Ying needed a person like this, and so there was a second meeting.
Feiyangexi had eaten better these past few days than in all the previous decades combined, and his voice had gained a bit of resonance: “Just having iron isn’t enough — we also need coal.”
Zhù Ying knew this, of course, but she did not interrupt him, only nodded steadily and gestured for Feiyangexi to continue, occasionally asking a question: “Where did the coal used to come from?”
This drew Feiyangexi on to say more.
By the time Feiyangexi had finished speaking, she had a fairly clear picture. She had not visited this particular mine on her previous scouting trips, but she had heard about it; cross-referencing what she had learned, the details aligned closely enough. She then asked about the smelting process, and Feiyangexi answered each question in turn.
Zhù Ying thought it over and said: “I will send someone there to manage this mine together with you — how does that sound?”
Feiyangexi did not quite grasp it at first. He blinked, then looked at Zhù Ying with barely concealed disbelief: “Me — me, me?”
Zhù Ying nodded: “Just you. You cannot read, but that is no obstacle — I will send someone literate to go with you. Hmm, one cannot work people to death; they do need a chance to breathe…”
Her mind was already sketching a new plan. Setting aside the new prefectures and counties that would need to be established, these mines alone all required reliable people to manage them. Where was she to find so many capable individuals right now? There was naturally one solution — “subcontracting,” and it was no novel idea; the imperial court occasionally used it as well. You assigned a specific task to a certain person, and as long as he delivered what the court needed, everything beyond that he was free to profit from as he pleased.
But salt and iron and such things — these had to stay in her own hands before she could feel at ease.
Zhù Ying decided then and there: “Who says someone who was once a slave cannot manage a mine? Who says someone who cannot read is stupid? You will manage things while you learn.”
This approach would save her an enormous number of personnel — she only needed to hold the critical positions. It would also allow people of the newly attached territories to quickly develop a sense of belonging. Of all the concerns when conquering a place, the worry was not so much the taking of it as the rebellions that followed once taken.
Zhù Ying said to Feiyangexi warmly: “I will write your name down, and give you a waist-badge and a seal. In the future, when you have anything to report to me, you use these to prove your identity.”
That name, Feiyangexi, was a truly fortunate one — and true to it, good fortune arrived. He was overjoyed beyond all expectation, fell to his knees, and declared: “I will certainly handle things well for you!”
Zhù Ying gave him a new name — a Chinese name whose sound approximated the original and fell under the character for Yang. She called him Yang Xi. Looking at this man, who after decades of grinding hardship still had a fully functioning mind, who could not read but could explain things with perfect clarity, she judged that this person, in the years to come, would achieve at least something, and accumulate at least some renown.
If she did not give him a name now, some other time — if the court happened to be in a bad mood — a translator might render his name with characters meaning “barking dog” or something equally demeaning. Such was the nature of subtle meaning in naming: when relations were good, even phonetic transliterations used characters of beautiful import; when relations soured, they could be made as degrading as anyone cared to make them.
Yang Xi had no idea what she meant by all this, but changing a name was no great affair — and the meaning of “Xi,” happiness, was quite pleasant; he was indeed in the middle of a happy occasion right now. He kowtowed and agreed.
Zhù Ying had Zhù Qingye take him to get his waist-badge made, while she herself began drafting some management regulations. This was, after all, one of the Ministry of Revenue’s strong suits — including how to manage miners and how to transport ore. She also had a newly acquired coal mine, though there was no one there as capable as Yang Xi; she had no choice but to assign a few extra people to help out there.
How the two types of mines were to transport their output and cooperate, and how to coordinate once more mines were acquired in the future — she sketched out a rough plan for all of it. As for how much to remit annually and how to prevent secret private extraction, the court had long experience with such matters, and it was easy enough to borrow from those precedents.
When Yang Xi’s credentials were ready, Zhù Ying dispatched two squads of local troops and two scribes to accompany him to the mine.
Witch Twin asked curiously: “Elder Matriarch, since he cannot read, will he manage all right?”
Zhù Ying said: “Being illiterate is not a matter of stupidity — it is simply a matter of never having learned. Some fools have, by some stroke of fortune, read a few books, and yet they are fools to the end and cannot be sent out to handle affairs. Some sharp-minded people, for various reasons, have never learned to read — it is not that they lack the ability, only that they lacked the opportunity. Now I am giving him the opportunity. Going forward, I need to be more attentive to identifying capable people from the local population.”
Witch Twin considered this, found it sensible, and nodded gravely. With characteristic boldness, she then asked whether she might not return to Witch Ren’s place — she wanted to follow at the heels of Zhù Qingjun’s unit, or if there were more mines, she would like to help with those: “I speak a little Jima, so I could push west. My aunt won’t be missing one person — in fact, without you around, she’d be more at ease… um.”
The reckless child clapped her hand over her own mouth.
Zhù Ying gave her a look. “More at ease? You stay here with me for now!” She was short of people herself — otherwise she would not be putting a gaggle of young ones to such heavy use.
From then on, Witch Twin mixed in with Jiang Zhen and Jiang Bao. Joining the same group were two teenage boys, both fifteen or sixteen — one whose father was a hunter in Zhù County, another whose father served as a minor squad leader at the Prefectural Governor’s Office. Both had followed Zhù Ying’s surname, one named Zhù Fei, the other Zhù Chong.
The five formed a unit. Jiang Zhen landed the title of “squad leader” and the whole group shuttled about the camp all day long. Their responsibilities were exceptionally heavy: since very few of the new soldiers could read, they also took on the task of literacy instruction. In addition, Witch Twin assisted with expenditure and inventory; Jiang Zhen and Jiang Bao were regularly drafted to help prepare medicines — fortunately no one yet knew that their family specialty was in forensics; Zhù Fei and Zhù Chong from time to time assisted with various affairs in the men’s camp — Lin Feng had gone home.
The spring planting season had arrived again, and this group along with their young companions were, under Zhù Ying’s arrangement, also helping Zhù Lian and the others organize spring planting. Wuzhou could not rely on purchased grain to fill its belly — it had to grow its own.
At the front, Zhù Qingjun and her comrades were pushing forward without pause; wounded soldiers were continuously transported back, and new troops continuously filled the gaps. As the territory expanded, the pool of people available to Zhù Ying grew thinner and thinner. Zhù Lian had done his best to resolve things locally, yet still could not avoid coming to Zhù Ying to request reinforcement.
Pressed by circumstances, Zhù Ying again transferred twenty students from the Wuzhou Official Academy and distributed them out to various positions. At the same time she set about selecting capable individuals from among the Xika and Jima peoples. Selecting people also required experience, and Zhù Ying presided over the evaluation herself.
Owing to the westward campaign, the climate grew slightly different from Wuzhou proper — after the fifth month, rainfall increased and military movements became more difficult. Entering the sixth month, the rudimentary roads were washed out, and Zhù Qingjun was forced to slow her rate of advance. Everyone breathed a slight sigh of relief — everyone, that is, except Witch Ren.
The fighting had paused; the soldiers could rest. But the soldiers’ mouths never stopped. The heavy rains also made transport far more difficult. Within the original Wuzhou territory things were somewhat better — the postal roads there were at least passable — but in the newly attached territories, the roads were pure mud. Witch Ren urgently drafted an official document to petition Zhù Ying: might it be possible to let the soldiers on rotation go home to rest and eat while there was a lull?
Zhù Ying approved the petition.
People like Witch Twin also let out a breath of relief. On account of the heavy rains, Zhù Qingjun, Su Zhe, Lu Danqing, and the others also pulled back in succession, and all gathered at Zhù Ying’s main camp. They reported on the state of the fighting first, then discussed follow-up matters: “The roads are muddy; they are also incapable of mounting an attack. We’ve left behind watchposts — the moment anything changes, word will reach us.”
The next order of business was the rotation of rest. Zhù Qingjun had gone without proper rest for a very long time. Su Zhe’s right arm was slung across her neck in two strips of silk — she had been wounded — and Lu Danqing had also grown noticeably darker and thinner. Zhù Ying first offered warm words of sympathy to all, then asked Su Zhe: “Has that wound been properly examined?”
Su Zhe’s wound had a story behind it, but she did not tell it; she simply smiled cheerfully and said: “It has been looked at! Now that I’m before you, I have even less to worry about.”
“You still need to be careful. You’ve had a rough time of it this round.”
“Before, you and my mother sheltered me too well. Now I’m paying back what I owe — settle the debt early and be done with it sooner.”
Everyone joked and laughed. Zhù Qingjun was about to ask for awards for the troops, and Zhù Ying said: “I won’t forget — let me work through the details carefully.”
Everyone shared a laugh. Right in the middle of it, Zhù Chong came striding quickly into the tent: “Elder Matriarch!” He swept his eyes around the interior of the tent, clearly wanting to say something but holding back.
Lu Danqing said: “Well, we’ll go wash up then.” The three of them walked out together.
Only then did Zhù Chong cup his fists together: “Elder Matriarch! Lin Feng is back, and he doesn’t look well!”
Lin Feng had been home for several months. Setting aside everything else, even if he had just rushed back to attend his father’s funeral, the mourning rites should have long since been completed. His previous messages had said that the troubles among his brothers at home were quite serious and he could not break away for the time being. Now he had unexpectedly returned — and he didn’t look well?
Zhù Ying asked: “Did he come alone?”
“He brought his nephew along.”
“Bring them in.”
Lin Feng entered the main tent leading a boy of eleven or twelve. Both had mud on their boots; their hair was damp and plastered to their faces. They fell to their knees the moment they saw her: “Elder Matriarch!”
Zhù Ying recognized the boy — he was the son of Lin Feng’s eldest brother. She said: “What has happened? Quickly, bring water for them to wash their faces. Sit down and tell me slowly.”
How could Lin Feng dare sit? He knelt and said: “Elder Matriarch, my family has caused trouble.”
“Stand up and speak clearly.” Zhù Ying said.
The older nephew tugged at his young uncle, and the two of them climbed to their feet, still not daring to sit. Lin Feng said quietly: “My second brother has run off. He wants to go down the mountain to find the regional governor and lodge a complaint with the imperial court.”
Zhù Chong sucked in a sharp breath and stepped back, an expression of fury crossing his face. He pressed his lips tightly together.
Zhù Ying said: “He couldn’t work it out?”
“This matter was never going to work out. He wanted to be the Deputy Governor.”
This had been something Zhù Ying herself had brokered years before — each of the families would take turns sending someone to hold a nominal deputy-level title in Wuzhou, carrying the rank without performing the duties, receiving no salary, but enjoying the status. Every family had agreed to it, and it had been carried out without incident.
Lin Feng said: “It was supposed to be my father’s family’s turn this time. When our father was alive, everyone understood that this cycle was reserved for our uncle’s family. But Second Brother said that only the brothers of the chief were qualified, that Father had died, that Elder Brother held the imperial commission, so it should be his turn — not our uncle’s. And he claimed it was the same for all the other families.”
Indeed, it had been roughly the same in those days — to appease their own families, most chiefs had generally favored their brothers, as Su Feihu had done.
Lin Feng had also not wanted to trouble Zhù Ying with family matters — and they were so far away besides. He had wanted to work with his elder brother to settle things at home, to demonstrate his own abilities in Zhù Ying’s eyes. But with stakes this high, there was no settling such things with words alone; you needed something concrete to exchange, and they had nothing to offer. Lin Feng’s third brother was willing to join Lin Feng at the military front, but the second brother refused.
The dispute dragged on without resolution. The second brother believed the elder brother had divided the family property unfairly, giving him too little; the elder brother, moreover, was incompetent, yet had received the imperial commission — that was Zhù Ying showing favoritism. As for Lin Feng, the youngest — their father had always favored him, had sent him to Zhù Ying’s side, protected him all along the way. And now even the rotating title — a thing he was simply asking for in turn — was being denied him. There was no living in this family anymore!
The children of Wuzhou’s various chiefs had, to varying degrees, learned official speech, read a little, and studied a little at the tribal schools — this was actually one of Zhù Ying’s achievements in governance — but it had also produced one unsurprising side effect: they knew about the imperial court. They knew about official offices. They knew these titles had power.
Lin Family’s second son had gone down the mountain to file a complaint!
The Lin family dared not delay. The eldest brother led men to chase after the second brother, while sending his younger brother along with his own son to find Zhù Ying at once. Lin Feng finished telling his story, then fell to his knees again and pinched his nephew sharply; the older nephew burst into tears: “Elder Matriarch! My family has shamed you! I am sorry!”
Zhù Ying asked: “Has he been caught and brought back?”
“His wife and children are still there; Second Brother himself…”
Zhù Ying said: “I understand. It just so happens I was planning to return home myself — the soldiers need rest too. Let us go back together.”
Lin Feng was overjoyed. “Yes!”
——
Before departing, Zhù Ying first dispatched the local troops who had completed their rest rotation in Zhù County back to the area, to stand guard alongside the newly trained local troops — only then did she lead the weary returning forces back to Mountain City.
In Zhù County, the families of the local troops were waiting in joy and excitement for their loved ones to return — the heavy rain could not dampen their enthusiasm. Zhao Su and the others came out in oilskin capes to greet them; behind the curtain of rain, Zhao Su wore no deliberately cheerful expression — his face unmistakably carried a trace of gravity.
He escorted Zhù Ying into the prefectural office. Zhù Ying spoke first: “Were the hoes and plows transported back last time distributed to the people?”
“Yes.”
Zhù Ying asked about other affairs within the office, then said: “With the heavy rain, roads and drainage channels all need attention — we must guard against disaster.”
Then she inquired about Huajie and the others: “The school — can you still manage? I will be needing even more students going forward, and I will send some here to study as well.”
Huajie said: “We will do our very best! We will not make trouble for you.”
Having asked about all the routine matters and dismissed the officials, Zhù Ying asked Zhao Su again: “Lin family — what exactly has happened?”
What Zhao Su said did not differ much from what Lin Feng had told her, but the emphasis was different: “All this time, seeking imperial commissions for the sake of nominal titles has actually led some people to lose sight of what matters! Elder Matriarch, Wuzhou cannot allow the imperial court to interfere too much — we cannot let those people decide the appointment and removal of Wuzhou officials!”
Zhù Ying said: “I’ve already thought of that! Call the craftsmen together right now — I want to cast seals and issue edicts. Henceforth, every official in Wuzhou and the surrounding prefectures must hold a seal issued by me to count as a Wuzhou official with authority to govern. Only those whose appointment I acknowledge in a formal edict may petition the imperial court for a commission, and without my acknowledgment, no such petition may be filed.”
Or to put it plainly: without Zhù Ying’s blessing, even with an imperial court commission in hand, all of Wuzhou would not recognize you — and you would not be allowed to set foot in Wuzhou either!
Zhao Su’s eyes lit up: “Brilliant!”
“Besides, we have been fighting for over a year now. You’ve all done so much work, and we’ve gained the territory of several more prefectures. Many people who have worked hard to establish prefectures and counties hold only temporary, acting positions — it is long past time to properly clarify everyone’s standing.”
Zhao Su’s heart pounded. “Yes! I only worry… if the court finds out…”
“They don’t need to know yet. When have I ever served an undercooked meal? Once the rice is fully cooked, we’ll inform the guests.”
“Yes! Then what about the Lin family…”
“Jiang Zheng is no fool. A second son — he cannot inherit the chieftainship. At most it’s a family property dispute, something to inquire into locally, to mediate. Or perhaps just an annoyance. Go and prepare the casting of the seals! Once the seals are ready, have them begin test-minting copper coins. A solid fence is the only thing that keeps stray dogs from getting in.”
“Yes!”