Build a city?

Whether it was Zhù Qingye, who had never left Wuzhou, or the more “worldly” Zhù Qingjun and Lu Danqing, none of them could quite understand why Zhù Ying wanted to build a city here.

Zhù Qingye was somewhat bewildered, while Zhù Qingjun and Lu Danqing had been through enough to understand the difficulty. Especially Zhù Qingjun — working with Xiang Le to manage Gan County, a reasonably established operation, had brought no shortage of headaches. How much more daunting to raise a city from this stretch of nothing at all?

Building a city was extraordinarily difficult, and the fact that this land didn’t yet belong to them was actually the smallest of the problems — after taking the land, that was when the real problems would begin. Building a city required population; in the initial phase it was best to employ a massive amount of able-bodied labor, while simultaneously requiring building materials, planning, and provisions to sustain the construction. The hardest part of all this was organizing and mobilizing large numbers of young and able-bodied workers.

Once built, the city couldn’t sit empty — it needed inhabitants, and inhabitants needed to live. At minimum, they needed food and drink. These people also required management; the most basic order had to be maintained so that all these people could live in relative safety, while also preventing them from fleeing. There would need to be garrison soldiers, yamen runners, and so on.

The plain before them was relatively well-suited for cultivation, but it would also require draft oxen, seeds, irrigation, and so on and so forth.

And all this was under conditions of good weather, with no disasters or calamities. No one could know whether this area might be buried under the kind of blizzards found in the north come winter, or whether the river might throw a tantrum without warning and wash away an entire year’s hard work in one go.

Under ordinary circumstances, no one would want to undertake exactly such a task, because it would basically be impossible to accomplish.

These thoughts flashed past in an instant. Zhù Qingjun pulled a small notebook from the pouch at her waist and noted down “build new city.”

If there was still one person in this land who could accomplish this, it would be Zhù Ying. What she couldn’t figure out, she would record first — either puzzle over it slowly, or wait for it to be confirmed later — and then analyze and summarize afterward. This was Zhù Qingjun’s experience, and it was also a habit that everyone around Zhù Ying had generally developed. Lu Danqing and the others also took out their small notebooks and noted it down, at the same time jotting down a few words to record their inner doubts. Zhù Qingjun also drew a quick sketch in her own notebook, marked a dot, and labeled the location.

The map was put away, and the party rushed down the mountain. Their carried goods were by now not very plentiful. After descending the mountain, Zhù Ying and a few others reined in their horses. A middle-aged man and a young woman from among the attendants spurred their horses forward and said, “Grandma, we’ve been this way before — go this direction. They have a village here.”

Both Xika and Jima had merchants who traveled to Jiyuan Prefecture to do business, and some merchants who traded at the villa settlement. But Zhù Ying had hired none of them as guides, instead using a pair of uncle and nephew from the official residence who were regularly in contact with passing merchants. They had traveled afar before, knew both the Jima and Xika languages, and were reasonably suitable.

Led by them, Zhù Ying’s party found lodging that same evening in a village — of course the broad plain had people living on it. Not only were people living there, they were also farming. Along the way Zhù Ying’s party passed rice paddies, finding that simple irrigation channels had already been constructed here, though the rice grew less well than in lowland Wuzhou — even less well than in mountain farmland like Zhù County.

Zhù Ying couldn’t help but feel pained at the sight: what a waste of such fine land!

When the villagers heard that outside merchants had arrived, they gathered around to look. Zhù Ying used the same story she had told in Xika territory: “My father died two years ago, and I’ve just taken over the household. I need to support the family, so I came out to see if there’s any trade to be done — I brought a bit of goods to try, and also to scout out the routes.”

She displayed a few sample goods, drawing a crowd. Her Jima language carried a slight accent, which was consistent with the situation of “just inherited the household and coming to explore routes for the first time,” and didn’t arouse much suspicion. It was only that the children kept staring at their swords and couldn’t look away, and there were also people who muttered that their weapons were better than those of their own village.

They found a large house set somewhat away from the outer edge. Zhù Ying paid in salt for the lodging fees. The host family of seven or eight people was decently dressed but not particularly well-off. The head of the household didn’t want salt: “Do you have copper coins?”

Zhù Ying was somewhat surprised. “You want copper coins? Why? The people along the road mostly prefer goods.”

“You have needles? Give me three or five — no, ten! As for salt, we don’t lack that much here. Only copper coins and raw gold can be exchanged for other things.”

Zhù Ying counted out needles for him. “Needles are precious! If I give you needles, I won’t have copper coins for you. The people on the road don’t give me copper coins anyway.”

The mistress of the house came over carrying a water jug, pouring water while she asked, “So what did you exchange your goods for?”

Zhù Ying’s party’s luggage had already grown sparse — it didn’t look like they had sold much of their goods. “We made arrangements with them to pick up payment on the return trip,” Zhù Ying said. “It saves carrying weight. They want me to come again next time and bring more goods too — they’re not going to cheat me out of this trip’s goods.”

She handed over the needles and asked, “Where does your salt come from? And what do you want copper coins for?”

The mistress put down the water jug, took the needles — ten needles, ten fingers, easy to count — then carefully stuck them one by one into a handkerchief, wrapped it up, and only then said, “There’s a salt well.”

After chatting with her, Zhù Ying learned that in the mountains on the other side, going in along a tributary of this river, was another large village of the Jima tribe, and there was a salt well there. The output wasn’t very high and so the salt couldn’t be sold far, but those in the vicinity were reasonably well supplied with salt. Besides that, there were also western foreign merchants who sold salt.

However, the western foreign salt merchants generally didn’t come this way, because the Jima family’s territory was quite large, so making the trip to sell salt here wasn’t very cost-effective. The western foreign merchants usually traded with the large village to their northwest. Their village would then redistribute some of it.

This place had two sources of salt, so naturally they didn’t worry about it much. Instead, steel needles and the like, though the area did produce iron, were more scarce because of the low quality of the local craftsmanship.

Lu Danqing found this curious. She had spent time in the capital at the Prime Minister’s residence, and Zhù Ying had once served as Minister of Revenue and campaigned against the western foreigners, and had considerable history with the Court of Dependencies. Those who paid attention could know that the western foreigners lacked both tea and salt, and had an urgent need for the border trading markets. If the trading markets were closed, they would not only grow anxious but might even jump up and start fighting. The court also treated this as leverage — if the western foreigners got out of hand, they would threaten to cancel or reduce trade.

But seeing Zhù Ying’s calm expression, Lu Danqing said nothing — as a merchant’s attendant, she shouldn’t have this kind of knowledge about the western foreigners.

Zhù Ying finished her business with the hosts and squeezed out a bit more information, focusing her questions on the local population, grain yields per mu, and how farming was done. By the time dinner was cooked, she was ready to eat when the head chieftain’s steward arrived and asked Zhù Ying’s party to bring their goods to the main house.

Zhù Ying scooped and ate a bowl of rice, wiped her mouth, then brought along some sample goods and went with Qingjun and the others to the main house.

The chieftain’s family was worldly; though they also expressed admiration for the silk and other items, they didn’t glue their eyes to the silk and refuse to look away. The chieftain looked the members of Zhù Ying’s party over a few extra times and then asked Zhù Ying about needles. Zhù Ying agreed to all of it, and the chieftain paid in raw gold. The steward produced a small cloth pouch of raw gold; Zhù Qingye reached out to take it, but the steward quickly pulled the cloth bag back.

Qingye was startled, but the steward asked outright: “You there, running errands — how much for these women?”

“Ah?”

They had been careless. In this party, only Zhù Ying habitually favored men’s clothing; the other women had never had reason to dress as men, including Zhù Qingjun, who had changed back to her own clothes after leaving Xika territory. Zhù Ying treated those around her quite well — provided food and clothing, well-fed and well-dressed — and the men and women at her side all looked in good condition and spirited. They appeared to be perfectly good attendants.

The chieftain’s household wanted to buy a few slaves from Zhù Ying.

Zhù Ying reacted immediately. “Not for sale — I’m counting on them to get me further down the road.”

The chieftain was somewhat displeased. “I’ll give you a guide.”

Zhù Ying shook her head. “They serve other purposes.”

The chieftain said to the steward, “You explain it to him.” Having said this he didn’t leave, but sat there glaring at Zhù Ying’s party. Zhù Qingjun’s temper rose; her left hand moved to the hilt of her sword, while her right hand gripped Lu Danqing — Lu Danqing was a chieftain’s daughter, and even if her father didn’t value her, she was still from a chieftain’s family, and had a fierce temper. Zhù Qingjun had to guard against her erupting on the spot and killing the chieftain, which would make it hard to get away.

But Zhù Ying showed no sign of anger. She negotiated with the steward for a long while. “Everything I brought to the main house today, I didn’t plan on taking back — it can all stay for the chieftain. But the people cannot stay.”

“These goods are more valuable than the women,” the steward said. “If you can leave these behind, why can’t you leave the women?”

“Not only do I have to go forward, I also have to go home. Without them, I can’t make the return journey — the slaves the chieftain gives me won’t be any use. They have to accompany me for the whole road.”

“Can’t even one stay?” the steward asked.

“Since we can’t divide them up, it seems heartless to separate them. How about this — look through these goods, chieftain, and if there’s anything you like, I’ll bring it next time I come. Pay a deposit now, and we’ll settle the balance when I return. When I come back next time, I’ll bring a group of women like them — but not this time.”

The chieftain suddenly stirred and asked, “How many women do you have? Like them? What are you selling them for?”

Zhù Ying did a quick estimate and asked, “How many do you want?”

“Ten… twenty!”

“Very well! I have more — two hundred, two thousand, all available. But next time I come, the people and the goods won’t be free — you prepare the price.”

The chieftain looked regretfully at her long sword, then looked at her height, and said, “All right. I want thirty.”

“Possible.”

“Not old ones — they should all be the same age as these, clean and neat…”

He listed many requirements. Zhù Ying said, “Not only clean and tidy, but all very sensible — I’ve trained them all very well. They can do anything, go anywhere, won’t complain about hardship, won’t complain about toil. When happy they’ll sing, when hungry they’ll cook, they can weave and make clothes, they can keep people company and chat — all the finest girls imaginable.”

The chieftain twisted his lips into a grin. “Good then.”

Zhù Ying didn’t collect the goods, and left the main house with Zhù Qingjun and the others empty-handed. Once back at their lodgings, several people could no longer hold back, and crowded before Zhù Ying, voices lowered. “Grandma! That person is absolutely hateful!”

“I know, I know,” Zhù Ying said.

Lu Danqing was half-dead with anger. “Grandma, you promised there would be two hundred, two thousand people coming — I want to lead one thousand! If I don’t flatten his wretched den, I’ll write my name backwards!”

“Don’t compete with me,” Zhù Qingjun said.

Zhù Qingye was angry too, but held it in and didn’t speak — just knelt with everyone else, then pretended to shed a couple of tears.

“All right,” Zhù Ying said. “When we go back I’ll have it all arranged. Tonight sleep with your ears open — tomorrow morning eat what this family eats. If they don’t eat it, don’t touch it either. As soon as the village gate opens, we leave immediately!”

“Yes!”

After agreeing, Lu Danqing suddenly remembered something. “Grandma, the western foreigners also lack salt, don’t they?”

“That depends on how they lack it,” Zhù Ying said. “The western foreigners have salt lakes and produce salt themselves — but salt from the trading markets is cheaper, so they’re willing to import more. They also sell their own salt outward. And besides… ah, why would a salt producer care whether ordinary people can afford salt?”

Lu Danqing suddenly understood. Her face flushed — she thought of her own father, Lu Guo, and cursed herself inwardly for being foolish. Wasn’t the western foreigners selling salt exactly the same logic as Lu Guo profiteering on Wuzhou salt?

“All right — rest,” Zhù Ying said.

……

The following morning they ate breakfast early and, without selling any more goods, quickly loaded up the remaining goods and rode away, heading to the next destination.

If one could stand at a great height and look down with extraordinary vision, this stretch of plain was not actually very large on a map. Yet heaven and earth are vast, and humans are so very small. Never mind “fertile fields stretching a thousand li” — even within the range of human sight, one cannot see ten li in any direction. Thus in a traveler’s eyes, this plain appeared especially large.

Those like Zhù Ying who had been to the great northern plains were accustomed enough, but the few attendants who had never left Wuzhou, who had started out thrilled and open-hearted, gradually developed a thread of apprehension, sticking closely to the horse train for fear of falling behind.

The paths across the plain had clearly not been deliberately maintained; a worked road and a naturally trodden one had obvious differences, but the terrain was flat enough that over centuries of use, countless feet had worn out something resembling a road nonetheless. Not far from the road, farmland appeared from time to time, looking less well tended than one might hope.

Before long, the farmland disappeared, leaving only vast wilderness.

Then after some more distance, farmland appeared again, and they knew they were close to the next village. In the fields, a person swung a whip — not to drive oxen or horses pulling a plow, but to punish a lagging slave. Even while the slaves were working, their hands and feet were not free.

Zhù Qingye was distressed by the sight. Zhù Qingjun only glanced at it once, then went back to measuring distances — using a distant tall peak as her reference point, she and a few others who were better at arithmetic would periodically stop and sketch a diagram. After entering the plain, most of the party had gradually given up trying to keep track of the route.

The vast plain and the labyrinthine deep mountains were two completely different kinds of challenge! For them, mountain terrain was sometimes actually easier to draw. Now only Zhù Qingjun could draw, and only Zhù Ying could read the maps she drew.

They didn’t follow a single road in a straight line — from time to time they took branch paths, and along the way visited several more villages. Zhù Ying’s plan was not only to take the measure of the largest villages, but also to look at the raw gold mines, and — as it came to mind — to check out the iron sources and then look at the salt well nearby on the way…

And finally, to the largest village of all. The rice in the paddies and the wild grass in the untended land slowly changed color as they continued their travels — from pale green to deep green, then gradually taking on specks of yellow.

Zhù Ying finally arrived outside the Jima family’s largest village. The outer walls here were of stone, and the settlement covered a considerable area, befitting the grandeur of “a great mountain plain.” By this point Zhù Ying had also gotten a clearer picture: the area of this plain was incomparable to the great plains of the north, and scattered across it were several villages with a certain population. Among them, the position of one particular village was the one she was most optimistic about — the one she had in mind to build a new city at.

There were also no identity checks here — because there was nothing resembling a household register — but there were more people inside than in the other villages. From time to time one could hear the western foreign language, and even some not-quite-standard official Chinese!

It also had an inn! Zhù Ying’s party found lodgings and rented a small courtyard. By now their goods were nearly depleted, but the maps were nearly complete. To avoid trouble, Zhù Qingjun and the others had all dressed as men; the sun had darkened them several shades, and Lu Danqing’s face had slight peeling from sunburn.

With few goods remaining, Zhù Ying didn’t make a conspicuous show of selling. She took Zhù Qingjun and the others out, slowly observing the settlement. Zhù Qingjun memorized routes while also estimating the population and thinking through how to attack with minimal losses if it ever came to that…

Several days passed without any chieftain summoning them to present goods. Instead it was Zhù Ying who spotted some western foreigners and actually heard someone speaking the Qixia language. Evidently, impeded communication was relative and not so absolute as to allow no exchange at all.

She glanced in the direction the voice had come from — a young man she didn’t recognize. To avoid trouble, she said nothing and quickly slipped into the crowd.

After several days of thoroughly surveying the large settlement, Zhù Ying was just wondering whether to seek an audience with the chieftain when a commotion suddenly arose outside the inn. Her heart stirred and she quickly stepped out of the room, quietly looking toward the source of the noise — and felt a sudden jolt! Zhù Qingjun appeared abruptly, a person seized in her grip!

Zhù Ying quickly remembered — this was a Jima merchant! During a previous inspection tour, she had let him travel along, and she had also gotten a great deal of information out of him. Part of the reason she had only used her own people this time instead of hiring a guide was that she had already gathered that information before.

“Grandma,” Zhù Qingjun said, “this person was acting suspiciously, watching us — he doesn’t look like good news!”

Zhù Ying pointed toward the source of the noise and asked the merchant, “Is that right?”

Zhù Qingjun drew her blade and without hesitation jabbed it into the man’s thigh! The man was so frightened he blurted out immediately: “Not my fault, not my fault! I just thought he looked familiar! The other one recognized the Lord and said he wanted to tell the chieftain…”

“Withdraw! Leave the heavy things!” Zhù Ying said.

If they took only their horses and a bit of raw gold, they could move fast.