The government’s conditions for settling refugees and registering them were too generous. Not only did they distribute farmland for free, but the government would also organize corvée laborers to help them build houses and provide relief grain. Even if they were just simple thatched brick-and-mud houses, even if the relief grain wasn’t much and required tightening belts and enduring hunger.

But those children in the schools, whenever they had free time, would run to where the government registered refugees and chatter away, calculating accounts for them, saying things like the court exempted them from half their taxes, gave them seeds and farming tools, and as long as they endured one year and achieved a good harvest, their families would have stored grain…

Never mind those ignorant masses—even Zhao Hu listening to it couldn’t help but be moved.

Thus, he couldn’t recruit tenant farmers. Even though he’d already lowered the land rent to forty percent and allowed them to borrow grain in advance to get through winter, he still couldn’t recruit many.

He couldn’t recruit long-term workers either, and even the cost of buying slaves had risen considerably.

This was clearly just after the end of chaotic times, when large populations were displaced. Supposedly, people should be very cheap at this time—at least not more expensive than a chicken. Yet now, the price of buying one person could buy two oxen.

To get the land planted, Zhao Hu could only spend a fortune competing with the government for short-term workers, and bought several people who clearly couldn’t farm to feed themselves but were good at managing others to oversee them. Only then could he maintain the estate.

Honestly, Zhao Hu somewhat regretted it. He should have listened to Zhao Hanzhang back then and not bought this land.

Sigh, but at the time, he thought Zhao Hanzhang was jealous of him. After all, he was someone who could buy an entire qing of land at one go in the capital suburbs to make an estate.

All in one piece!

Near water!

Even Wang Yan in his day hadn’t been this capable!

Zhao Hu felt proud just thinking about it. This was the foundation he’d laid for his descendants.

As a result, most of this foundation now lay fallow. Worse still, Zhao Hanzhang had issued a broken regulation—if a piece of land lay continuously fallow for three years, she would reclaim it as state property.

Zhao Hu was lamenting his great estate when he suddenly heard noisy voices. He immediately flew into a rage: “I’ve been too lenient with them. That’s why they’ve learned such lax manners, daring to make a racket before us!”

As for the household servants in Xiping, who would dare be noisy before them?

Such nice scenery, such peaceful atmosphere—all ruined by them!

Zhao Shen glanced at him and said: “Seventh Grand-Uncle, guests have arrived.”

Zhao Hu looked carefully and only then discovered there were many people at the estate entrance. Behind them were over a dozen handcarts and three ox-carts, but following behind were nearly a hundred people in ragged clothing—clearly refugees who’d fled here.

Zhao Hu was startled and shrank back into the carriage entrance, urgently beckoning to Zhao Song: “Refugees! Fifth Brother, get in quickly. I’ll run first.”

Refugees—if there was no army nearby, in Zhao Hu’s view, they were equivalent to bandits.

They’d only brought about twenty guards—they definitely couldn’t beat these people.

They clearly looked starved and frozen. Seeing them so wealthy, how could they possibly resist robbing them?

Zhao Hu never gambled with his own life.

Zhao Song didn’t move. He beckoned to him instead: “What are you afraid of? This is Luoyang.”

Did being in Luoyang make it less frightening?

When people were hungry, they didn’t care where it was. Even if it were the underworld hell itself, they would still rob. Starvation was more terrifying than death.

Of course, Zhao Hu himself had never starved, but he’d taken in so many refugees and heard them talk about it plenty.

When people were starved to the extreme, they’d want to cut off and eat their own flesh, let alone others.

Zhao Shen said: “Seventh Grand-Uncle needn’t fear. As long as you bring out grain to help them, they definitely won’t rob you.”

“You’re spouting nonsense. Can you even control them?”

Zhao Shen grinned at him: “I can’t control them, but isn’t there still the Great General?”

“They’ve struggled hard to reach Luoyang. With the city walls right before them, do you think they’d want to die here? They’ve come to seek refuge with the Great General.”

“Not wrong,” Zhao Song said. “If they were going to rob, your estate would have been robbed long ago. Why would they argue with your household guards at the entrance? Let’s go.”

Zhao Hu was unwilling but could only reluctantly move forward.

Zhao Shen helped Zhao Song down the slope. The people arguing at the estate entrance immediately stopped. When their carriage arrived, the middle-aged man surrounded in the middle immediately moved toward Zhao Hu in the carriage. But walking halfway, seeing Zhao Song and Zhao Shen standing by the carriage, he hesitated.

His reason and experience told him that the person wearing fox fur with a haughty expression in the carriage was the master. But looking again at the proudly poised youth by the carriage and the gentle, magnanimous elder standing beside him, his raised hand involuntarily turned half a circle. Before he even realized it, he had bowed deeply: “This humble one, Kuai Yi of Kuai Settlement in Nanxiang Commandery, beseeches the estate master.”

Zhao Song asked gently: “You’ve come from Nanxiang Commandery?”

But Kuai Yi said shamefully: “We came from Lujiang Commandery. In spring, when the Xiongnu moved south and attacked Nanxiang Commandery, I led my clansmen south to flee. But when we reached Jiangnan, we had no foothold. Later, hearing that Great General Zhao had expelled the Xiongnu and pacified the Central Plains, we came back to seek refuge.”

Zhao Song sighed: “Why not return to your ancestral land?”

Kuai Yi shed tears: “Our clansmen scattered. Over eight hundred of us migrated south, but only over ten returned. We’re truly ashamed and dare not go back to our hometown.”

Zhao Song hadn’t expected it to be so tragic. Looking at those behind him: “Then these people are?”

“Fellow townspeople who fled together,” Kuai Yi cried. “There are people from Nanxiang Commandery, also from Xiangyang Commandery, plus those who joined us as we passed through Jiangxia Commandery and Lujiang Commandery.”

Zhao Song opened his mouth but couldn’t speak for a long while.

Zhao Shen looked thoughtfully at Zhao Song, then asked Kuai Yi: “How many people did you have at most when traveling north?”

Kuai Yi: “Over two thousand three hundred.”

Zhao Song’s body swayed. Zhao Shen quickly supported him.

Zhao Song choked up and asked: “So many people, and only this many remain?”

Kuai Yi said: “Some couldn’t walk anymore midway and stayed behind. We don’t know if they could find government relief and survive. More died of starvation and disease. The roads are all lined with white bones. Old sir, you needn’t grieve.”

Zhao Shen sighed: “Fortunately, Heaven showed mercy. The Zhao clan was able to remain secure in Xiping all along. When attacked by Shi Le back then, we held the fortress. And Sanniang has always been strong. Otherwise, if the Zhao clan had fled south, we couldn’t have escaped such a fate.”

Zhao Song’s lips trembled, but he said nothing.

Even the constantly chattering Zhao Hu fell silent, sitting quietly on the carriage shaft.

Kuai Yi, hearing Zhao Shen’s words, brightened immediately and quickly asked: “Is the young master from the Xiping Zhao clan?”

After Zhao Shen nodded, Kuai Yi fell to his knees with a thud, his head banging on the ground: “I beg Lord Zhao to save us! Heaven is about to send down snow. If these elderly, weak, women, and children have no shelter tonight, they’ll likely freeze to death. I beg Lord Zhao to save them.”

The hundred-plus people behind him also fell to their knees with a whoosh, bowing deeply to Zhao Song.

Zhao Song hurriedly reached out to help him, but without receiving definite words, Kuai Yi refused to rise, kneeling resolutely.

Zhao Song glared at Zhao Hu.

Zhao Hu muttered quietly: “You’ve already made the decision yourself. How could I object…”

Zhao Song said: “Rise quickly. I’ll have people light fires and heat water. Everyone, quickly enter the estate to warm yourselves and escape the cold.”

Only then did Kuai Yi rise. He then ran back toward a crude ox-cart, helping out a pale-faced young man from inside: “Mr. Guo, Lord Zhao is most kind, allowing us to rest here and get through the cold night.”

Zhao Song looked over curiously, meeting the gaze of the youth looking back. Their eyes collided. The youth raised his eyebrows high, looking him over from head to toe before smiling: “What fine bearing! Your glory and prosperity all lie with your juniors.”

His gaze moved to Zhao Shen, half-smiling: “Young master, your sharpness is exposed, your pride and arrogance too high—this is not a path to longevity. In the future, if you cannot restrain your heart, I fear you’ll bring disaster upon yourself.”

Zhao Shen felt disdainful inside and didn’t take it seriously: “Where did brother come from, claiming to be an immortal?”

The youth smiled: “This humble one is Guo Pu of Hedong.”