West Prefecture was newly founded and had no entertainment to speak of. What the residents of West Prefecture most commonly did was gather in groups to sing, eat, and get into fights. In the evenings, singing drifted in from outside, while inside the people sat at dinner.

Zhù Ying asked Chen Fang, “Have you tired yourself out today?”

Chen Fang smiled. “We walked a great deal, but looking at all this flourishing vitality, I did not feel tired.”

“Since you are not tired, would you like to take a detour northwest and have a look?” Zhù Ying asked.

Chen Fang said, “Northwest? The Western Tribes?”

Zhù Ying nodded. “Once you pass West Prefecture, you are already touching the borders of the Western Tribes. There is a mountain pass over there — the peaks see snow regularly in winter now. Beyond it, the mountains continue range after range, growing colder the further west you go. A harsh life makes people fierce. The peace agreement reached with the Western Tribes was never expected to last forever. You are all young people — taking a look at the Western Tribes can only do you good.”

Chen Fang and Wang Yunzhi looked at each other, each seeing interest in the other’s eyes. Chen Fang said, “We ask for your guidance.”

“Happily.”

Chen Fang then began worrying that he had not brought warm enough clothing. Heading south, there had been no need for heavy furs, so none had been packed. Now, heading into cold terrain, he and Wang Yunzhi were in something of a predicament. They thought about sending someone out to buy supplies, but outside was one vast construction site — where would anyone sell such things?

Fortunately, Zhù Ying had moved house, and the storage rooms held plenty of items that had been brought down from the capital over the years. She selected two fine fur-lined robes and prepared them for the two men. She herself had no concern in that regard — the winters in Wuzhou’s mountains were cold as well, and winter clothing she had in abundance.

After a day of rest, Zhù Ying led them toward the checkpoint and the mountain pass. On this trip, she did not bring Zhang Xiangu along — she was left at home with Hua Jie to tidy the house. The traveling party was light cavalry only.

There were almost no post stations along the way, only a few rudimentary stopping points. When the chieftain Pu Sheng had been in power, there had been no such thing at all. These stopping points had been thrown together after Zhù Ying had taken West Prefecture. The road itself was naturally nothing like a proper post road — it was just a dirt track that had been given basic improvement. By “basic improvement,” it was meant that large holes in the road had been filled in, stray shrubs that had grown across the path had been pulled out. Beyond that, things were left somewhat to chance — the road had been worn into shape by thousands of years of human and animal feet, with cart ruts layered on top, and those were mostly recent tracks.

Wang Yunzhi and Chen Fang were jolted about until their faces turned a sickly yellow. Chen Fang said, “And yet this is perfectly flat land.”

Zhù Ying said, “It will not stay flat for long.”

Chen Fang’s face grew yellower still. “Can it get even bumpier?”

“In two days, we will be going up into the mountains.”

“What?”

“If there were no mountains acting as a barrier, how could it be so warm on this side? Mountains outside mountains, and beyond them lies harsh, frozen territory.” Zhù Ying explained patiently: the Western Tribe people who moved south and east would encounter particular difficulties — climate, disease, and a way of life they were ill-suited for. That said, it was said that a portion of the Ji Ma people had ancestors who had come over the mountains in earlier times and been gradually assimilated.

Pu Sheng’s family’s connections with the Western Tribes had not been coincidental.

Chen Fang and Wang Yunzhi listened, captivated by this unfamiliar account, and gradually forgot how difficult the road was. Without realizing it, they had arrived at the foot of the mountains. Chen Fang looked up. “This high?”

“The position up there is advantageous.” Zhù Ying said.

To pass through the checkpoint, they had to climb the mountain. Riding was too dangerous, so everyone dismounted and went on foot. By the time they reached the checkpoint, Wang Yunzhi’s legs were trembling. Zhù Ying pointed out the view for them and explained the customs and conditions of the region on both sides. “There is trade between the two sides. From this side: grain, cloth and silk, tea, salt, and more. From the other side: cattle, sheep hides, furs, horses, and also salt.”

Wang Yunzhi was startled to discover that on the mountain across the way, there was also a small checkpoint. “They have checkpoints too?” In his understanding, at any point where one had dealings with frontier peoples, it was the court that established “Such-and-such Pass” to keep the outsiders from coming in.

Zhù Ying said, “Yes, they also have walled settlements — it is just that the boundaries are vague.”

This, Wang Yunzhi felt, was the greatest thing he had gained from this trip — yet another new understanding had formed.

Seeing that there was a checkpoint on the other side, the two of them had no desire to venture in any further. They spent one night and were brought back by Zhù Ying. On the way back, they came across a group of merchants coming toward them from the opposite direction. Seeing the party, the merchants hastily stepped off the road to give way. Wang Yunzhi reined in his horse and asked, “What are you all trading in?”

The merchants kept their heads down and said nothing. Wang Yunzhi asked again, and the merchants still did not respond. He was not embarrassed, and simply smiled mildly at Zhù Ying. “Perhaps I failed to make myself clear?”

Zhù Ying looked at the merchants’ dress, then asked again in the Western Ka language. The merchants replied, “A little tea and some cinnabar.”

Wang Yunzhi suddenly understood: it was a language barrier. These days, all the people around them had been speaking the official language — whether their standard was high or not, most of it could be understood. But in reality, for the majority of people in all of Annan, the official language was completely unintelligible.

He said quietly, “For you to govern Annan, truly, must be an immense undertaking.”

Zhù Ying said, “All the more reason you should go back and put forward that memorial about the post road without delay.”

Chen Fang said, “That is certainly what we intend to do!”

Building a post road was no simple matter. It encompassed countless kinds of work. Zhù Ying had experience with large-scale construction, and Annan would follow her direction — but Chen Fang, even with some experience of his own, could not be certain the court would heed his arrangements. He would need to go back and present the proposal. So the two of them took with them Zhù Ying’s letter of thanks to the Emperor, along with a number of gifts, and set off back the way they had come.

Zhù Ying saw them off in West Prefecture. “A’Lian needs to go back to Bo Prefecture to deal with the autumn harvest. He will travel with you for the first half of the journey. Once you reach Bo Prefecture, he will arrange for people to escort you to Wuzhou. When you reach Wuzhou, Zhao Su will continue the escort out of the mountains. Once you enter Ji Yuan Prefecture, it would not be appropriate for me to be involved any further. Watch yourselves on the road, and I await your good news.”

Both men had traveled the whole journey in a state of weariness and wonder — now they longed to return to the capital quickly and yet wished they could see a little more. Their feelings were deeply at odds. The farewell words they managed were all rather stilted. Chen Fang, knowing perfectly well that the road proposal had originated with Zhù Ying, could not say so directly in front of Wang Yunzhi. He had to make do by speaking warmly to Zhang Xiangu: “My father and mother miss you very much.” And so on.

Zhang Xiangu took it at face value and murmured, “They are such good people.”

The two of them managed to keep their conversation going in a way that sounded quite convincing.

It was a rare thing to have people from the old familiar world come to visit. Zhang Xiangu was a little melancholy, and even after Chen Fang had walked far into the distance, she stood on the city wall, gazing after the tiny black dot growing smaller and smaller in the distance. “And just like that, they are gone. The people one used to know are no longer close at hand.”

Zhù Ying came up behind her, resting her chin on Zhang Xiangu’s left shoulder, and looked with her into the distance. “What are you looking at?”

Zhang Xiangu tilted her head and rubbed her cheek against Zhù Ying’s face. “The crops look so fine.”

“Yes. This land has good fortune.”

Zhang Xiangu smiled gently and said in a quiet voice, “We are finally at peace!”

Zhù Ying, her arms around Zhang Xiangu’s waist, asked, “Are you homesick? Or do you miss the capital?”

Zhang Xiangu said, “Neither. This here is our home! As for the capital… it was just like that, never comfortable. I worried about you every moment you were in the capital.”

“Perhaps there will be a chance to go back one day.”

“What would you go and do?” Zhang Xiangu pulled free and looked at her daughter in shock. “Don’t go stirring up trouble!”

“All right~”

Zhang Xiangu looked at her with deep suspicion. Zhù Ying said, “Truly, truly. Look at this place — it is still a complete mess. The houses aren’t finished. The fields are planted haphazardly. Wounded soldiers to settle, orphans to raise — which one of those things does not need attention? I have no time for anything else.”

Zhang Xiangu’s heart went out to her daughter again. “Do not wear yourself out either. The children have all grown up now — let them learn to take on a bit more.”

“I hear you! I will not let Qingjun or Little Su Zhe be idle.”

Zhang Xiangu felt somewhat reassured.

Zhù Qingxue came tiptoeing up. “My lord. The chieftains request an audience.”

Zhang Xiangu said, “Go and see what they have to say.”

Five chieftains arrived together, but they had come to take their leave.

The main hall of the new residence was much larger than the old one — it could seat many more people. Aside from the five chieftains, Su Zhe and the others also sat alongside.

It was Su Mingluan who spoke first, opening the conversation: “My lord, autumn harvest is near. We must head back early to prepare.”

The southern rice paddies ripened early. Zhù Ying had been thinking about this herself just a few days before, and nodded. “Good. If you travel together, I can feel more at ease. The children of your families who are with me — I will put them to good use.”

The five made more expressions of gratitude, and then did not rise to leave, but looked at one another, passing glances to Su Mingluan, urging her to speak again. She said, “My lord — about this post road matter — would it mean another trading post being opened? Would all of Annan contribute labor for it, or…? What would you need from us?” Related to this were also questions about how each family’s goods would be sold, how the benefits would be divided, and the like.

Their intent was clear enough just from the way they opened their mouths.

Lang Kunwu also said, “We were not able to contribute to the western campaign. Now, wherever there is use for us, you have only to command.”

Zhù Ying asked the other three, “You are asking about the same thing?”

The other three coughed, rubbed their heads, rubbed their necks, but all said, “Yes. Trade — everyone thinks about that.”

Su Zhe said, “Is the Wuzhou trading post not enough already?” Her tone had an edge. Annan — they had all fought to build it! And now these people had come here simply to claim a share of the spoils? Was there any other gesture from them?

Zhù Ying raised her hand to stop Su Zhe before she could say anything further, and said pleasantly, “This matter must wait until the road is built before it can be discussed. There has been no word back from the court yet, so drawing up plans on paper now is pointless — nothing to put in your mouth. Get Annan’s own affairs properly in order first. When the time comes, none of you will be forgotten.”

Then she closed her mouth, and that was that. These three, unlike their fathers, lacked the nerve to push further when they saw her expression. Each one told themselves: having that assurance was enough. Next time something came up, they would find the Asu family and the Talang family and present a united front.

The five then took their leave and departed.

Su Zhe puffed out her cheeks. Lin Feng stopped short of saying anything outright, but his expression darkened as well. It was Zhù Qingjun who spoke: “They are looking out for their own families. As chieftains, that is a form of dutiful responsibility.”

Lin Feng said, “They are just a bit dim about it. My lord has always treated everyone so well.” The more he thought about his own past self, the more he realized he had not always been the best person either. And he closed his mouth again.

Zhù Ying said, “All right. I do not ask everyone to suppress their feelings. Have your moment of irritation, then remember there is still real work to be done. There is an order of priorities to things. Autumn harvest is upon us, and very soon it will be time to sow winter wheat. Outside Wuzhou, no one is experienced with winter wheat — that is a major undertaking. The road to the outside mountains is still far off; the post road within Annan has not even reached West Prefecture yet. Which of these things is not urgent? Come now — time to divide up the work!”

Everyone obediently bowed their heads.

But then, at that very moment, Su Mingluan made one final sweep back!

Su Zhe could no longer hide the worry in her eyes. “Mother?”

Su Mingluan paid her daughter no mind, and said to Zhù Ying, “My lord — there is one matter I have been turning over in my mind for days. I would like to understand it clearly.”

Su Zhe said quickly, “I want to hear it!” Lin Feng and Lu Danqing thought it over and also quietly held their seats.

Su Mingluan said with resignation, “If you want to listen, go ahead — building a post road is not entirely a good thing! What do you young ones know of the world? You all look at trade and see only benefits. Do you have any idea how terrified we used to be of roads being opened, of commerce coming in? My lord, you once told me that with trade alone, you had many ways to bring a village to ruin. Over the years I have come to understand a little of what you meant. Now why would you want a road going all the way to the capital? This is very dangerous! It is not a question of who is clever enough. You are undoubtedly a person of great wisdom, but the difference in power and strength is simply what it is.”

Su Zhe realized she did not know what this “once upon a time” referred to. She quickly shifted her thinking and worked some of it out. Whenever she had thought about trade in the past, she had tended to put herself in the position of “the court.” It had only now struck her that she herself was the barbarian.

Zhù Ying said, “There must be some danger in it — yes. Do you truly think Annan is some paradise? A place where you exert yourself and get rewarded for it, where ability is recognized regardless of who you are, whether man or woman, old or young, chieftain or slave? A place where once you have entered a mother’s embrace, all you need to do is drink milk and sleep? Mothers grow old too. What do children do then? Die along with her? Go out into the world and look at it — hereditary privileges extending through generations, families where a single ancestor passed the imperial examinations and the descendants enjoy it without end, all of them men. If we do not go out and look now, do not go out and take measure of where things stand, do we wait until people come and break down our door?

Never forget: there are blades pressed against our backs.”

Everyone’s scalp tightened at those words!

Su Mingluan said, “And yet — after the western campaign, Annan is exhausted. I fear…”

“There will be a few years of rest and recovery. It is just that I am fifty years old. If I do not chart the course clearly now, I am afraid there will not be enough time later. Shutting ourselves in and going around in circles — that is not a lucky path. Your ancestors — sealed away in the mountains for how many generations? Did they grow strong and mighty? Did they grow more capable than the dynasties of the central plains? None of it! I may despise their ritual codes and their customs, but there are still things worth learning from them — we cannot close the door and refuse them all. I do not wish to see you, after I am gone, reduced to living like decorative plants in a pot.”

Su Zhe exclaimed in alarm, “My lord! How can you say such inauspicious things?!”

“Everyone dies. Perhaps I will not have the chance. But what I do hope is that one day you will be able to tear out the first page of the literacy primer, burn it, scatter the ashes to the wind, take what remains and teach the children with it — and then, bearing your own forged blades, charge out. Make them, follow our rules.”

Zhù Qingjun sprang to her feet, and one by one the others rose behind her.

Zhù Ying said, “Very well. Little Su Zhe, bear in mind — the literacy stone tablet does not need to have the first page carved anymore. The characters there…”

“There are not many useful ones anyway,” Su Zhe said. “List them out separately and they can still be memorized. We can compose something else instead.”

Everyone who had seen the last two Emperors up close found it exceedingly difficult to “sing their praises.”

Zhù Ying asked Su Mingluan, “Is there anything else?”

“The Western Tribes. That, I fear, is a greater threat.”

Zhù Ying smiled. “Which is exactly why I took Chen Fang to the checkpoint for a look. They will certainly mention the Western Tribes when they return. That will give the court something to keep in mind, and that is enough.”

“I have nothing further to ask. I will set out tomorrow.”

“Safe travels.”

With the task of dividing up work being what it was, good things had more than their share of complications. After Su Mingluan left, Lang Kunwu came. He glanced around at those present, made no move to ask anyone to leave, and said directly, “My lord — A’Fa has become extremely unruly at home. Could he be sent here to learn something?”

A’Fa was Lang Rui. Lang Kunwu had already sent his younger son A’Pu over, and now he wanted to send his eldest son too. Zhù Ying asked, “What kind of trouble has he been getting into?”

“He cannot sit still,” Lang Kunwu explained. “He resents not having been part of the western campaign, and keeps saying the Western Tribes are going to cause trouble. Even putting him to work as a doorkeeper here would do.”

Zhù Ying laughed. “All right.”

Lang Kunwu said, “In that case, I will not take A’Pu back either. The brothers have had little time together. Let them spend more time with each other.” His tone carried just a hint of entreaty.

“Fine.” Zhù Ying said.

Only then did Lang Kunwu break into a smile. “I am leaving tomorrow. I will send A’Fa over as soon as I am back home.”

And then Lu Danqing’s eldest brother came. He saw the people present, looked somewhat uneasy. Zhù Ying waved her hand, and Su Zhe and the others withdrew. Only then did he say what he had come for — his birth father was dead, and though he had received an appointment from Zhù Ying, without the court’s formal investiture it was not fully satisfying. He wanted one.

Zhù Ying said, “Of course. Once you return, have Danqing bring your memorial to me, and I will forward it.”

With that, it finally all settled down.

That year, Zhù Ying personally oversaw the autumn harvest. The West Prefecture granary had been completed by now, so storage presented no difficulty. West Prefecture collected a ten-percent tax. Because the new city was still under construction, the labor levy was somewhat heavy. But until now, Zhù Ying had truly taken in only ten percent and let the people keep the rest — and it was only then that anyone believed what had previously been said about “dividing the land.”

Previously, the propaganda from Zhù Xinle and the others had been met with only partial belief. And in truth, people had felt they had no choice but to go along with it, more or less. The land and everything on it had all belonged to the chieftains; the chieftains fought among themselves to take from one another — what did any of that have to do with ordinary people? The more common sentiment had been something like Zhù Xinle’s own attitude: “Seeing you suffer misfortune brings me a small satisfaction.”

In the previous autumn, Zhù Ying had collected all of the chieftain Pu Sheng’s grain, and the slaves had been miserable about it — when the chieftain lost grain, the slaves ate husks. But through the winter, Zhù Ying had been distributing grain to sustain them. And so they had muddled through somehow. They had been given food; when told to work, they worked. No one had taken the land deeds they were issued — or the “vouchers redeemable for one residential property” — seriously.

Nobody could read! What were those scribbled markings? Completely illegible. And hearing that it meant “land distributed to you to farm, which cannot be bought or sold” was also a bit confusing — they thought they were just receiving an assignment to work a plot of land.

Come spring, when told to farm, they farmed. Since food was provided, and they were not beaten much, and petty theft and the like was actually dealt with, they put considerably more care into farming this land than they ever had for Pu Sheng’s household.

Now, when it turned out they could actually receive a share of the grain, people began to remember — oh no. That “painted paper.” Where had they put it?!

And then there were those who were weeping, and those who were laughing. Some came with their “painted paper” asking, “Others already have their houses. Can we have ours?” And others wept and said, “My ‘painted paper’ for the land parcel is gone. What do I do?” The crops that still needed harvesting were abandoned in the fields.

When Su Zhe received the report of all this, she was astonished. “Are there really people who threw away such a thing? All matters are settled by contract — if he says he lost it, what if it is fraudulent? If we issue a replacement and then the original owner comes to make a complaint, how do we explain that? Honestly! Not taking official edicts seriously — well, they deserve to suffer for it a little!”

She grumbled her way through it all, and still took the matter to Zhù Ying. “My lord, this matter still has to be addressed, but how to verify authenticity is a problem. Furthermore, there are not enough clerks to issue replacement documents for everyone. You will need to reassign people.”

Annan was short of capable people in every area — physical labor and clerical work alike. When the land deeds had originally been issued, construction and tax collection had not yet been underway, so the clerical staff had barely sufficed. Now they were nowhere near enough.

Zhù Ying said, “Right now, we are in the middle of collecting taxes. I will only recognize those who pay their taxes. When recording the tax payment, just handle the land deed matter at the same time. Are there not baseline records? Check against the records. If anything does not match, and the person can give a clear explanation of the circumstances, note it in the records. If a replacement is being issued and the baseline record is found to have omissions, correct it on the spot — and remember to file a copy.”

“Yes.”

From that point on, the whole of West Prefecture grew even busier. For the autumn harvest, the grain would not need to be sent to the court this year — Zhù Ying could breathe a little easier. She also had salt, iron, gold, silver, and coal. It looked as though this winter would be reasonably comfortable.

But Zhù Ying did not slow down. Construction of residences within the city, digging of irrigation channels, road repair, promotion of winter wheat cultivation — all of this continued. It was impossible to push everything forward with equal force; there was simply not enough manpower, and priorities had to be set. Official residences for West Prefecture’s officials would not be built yet — everyone would continue lodging temporarily in the secretariat compound. Ordinary people’s homes would be built first, so that the housing vouchers could be redeemed.

The irrigation channels were being widened for the main channels only; the smaller channels would have to wait until next year. The post roads too were only being built to connect the main settlements along the arterial routes; the rest would also be deferred.

Given all of this, the labor demands were quite heavy. Even so, the people’s drive was reasonably strong. As Lu Danqing put it: what was this much labor, compared to what it had been under the old chieftains? Back then, they had worked without rest all year long. At least their lives were being spared. At least no one was cutting off hands or breaking legs. And at least people were being fed until full.

It was still busy, but last winter they could finally eat. This winter, not only would there be food, there would also be a proper house to live in. There would even be some new clothing to put on. Conscripting labor in the winter to repair irrigation channels, in that context, generated no complaint.

It has to be said: Zhù Chonghua had an extraordinarily sharp eye for how things stood.

So it went until the New Year arrived. West Prefecture’s New Year had very little festive atmosphere — but in the days around the New Year, the labor levy was suspended for a full month, and the mood of celebration became intensely vivid all at once! Every household had food this year. Every house was brewing wine. Some families even slaughtered a sheep. Zhù Ying and her companions, walking through the streets, were frequently stopped by families who boldly pushed their children to the front, inviting her in to have a drink.

In the midst of all this joy and celebration, a fast courier on the post road brought urgent news — Empress Luo had died.

“There is going to be trouble,” Zhù Ying said. She set the official gazette to one side and told Zhù Qingxue, “Wait until after the New Year to circulate this.”