Zhù Ying left the city with only three companions. The destination was the cemetery just outside the city walls — Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da were buried there, and Huajie had since been laid to rest nearby. Zhù Qingxue carried an enormous bundle on horseback. The other two were a pair of male disciples of Elder Sister Hu, whose turn it was to be on duty today. Both were still young — their faces showed a mixture of excitement and tension, and from time to time they checked their weapons.
Wealthy families would arrange for guards at their burial grounds; for the imperial household, dedicated tomb-guard officials were specially appointed. The Zhù family’s plot carried none of those formalities, but since graves had been interred there, a simple road had been built, and at the head of the road a small waystation had been set up. Few people passed this way, so the stationmaster had the additional leisure to take on the task of weeding and adding fresh earth to the mounds.
Zhù Ying burned paper offerings at each of the graves and poured out wine for everyone. To Zhang Xiangu she said, “You are dead and gone, so you might as well enjoy yourself — drink freely, and do not keep worrying about looking after drunks.”
To Zhù Da she said, “When you have drunk your fill, go back to the sleeping chamber and finish what is left. Get drunk and fall straight asleep — spare yourself the suffering.”
To Huajie, she had only one sentence: “I must go away for a while.”
She had ridden dozens of miles just to speak three sentences — and there was none of the long, sorrowful outpouring one might have imagined. This left Zhù Qingxue and the others feeling that it was exactly the sort of thing she would do, and yet somehow still left them puzzled. The taller of the two young men stepped half a pace forward, and was stopped by Zhù Qingxue, who also shot him a stern look.
His surname was Zhù, and he was from Zhù County — an old neighbor of Zhù Qingjun’s, the two families living side by side. He had been managed by this particular “elder sister” for years and to this day still froze the moment she glared at him.
Zhù Ying stood before the graves for a while — no grieving songs, no tears — and then said to the three, “Let us go back.”
The four of them rode back, making preparations for the following day’s departure. Given Zhù Ying’s current position, even with Su Mingluan’s cover, her travel required proper accounting. Beyond preparing a plausible reason, the number of attendants could not be too few — keeping things simple was not easy. Beyond Qingxue, guards and attendants were necessary.
Zhù Ying felt that Elder Sister Hu was not so young anymore and was not well suited to arduous travel. Having her disciples come along would be sufficient. But Elder Sister Hu believed that Zhù Ying’s current situation was not particularly difficult, and staying at the administration felt dull to her. Zhù Ying said, “You stay behind and help Dajie look after the household. She…”
Zhù Ying deliberately left the sentence unfinished. Elder Sister Hu had already spun up a full dramatic scenario in her mind about a “loyal attendant,” and agreed at once. Zhù Ying also called Dajie over and entrusted her with the management of the inner household, asking her and Elder Sister Hu to look out for each other. Dajie was grieving and found that having something to do actually helped a little. She only asked Zhù Ying for guidance: “There is also Nanny Jiang. The few of us are no longer young — the household cannot be without young people to do the heavy work. Please look over who you trust most, and we will take them under our wing and explain how things run here.”
Zhù Ying said, “Go ahead.”
The inner household of the administration was simple in terms of people, but the affairs were still considerable — involving accounts and records, as well as certain guests residing in the compound. Lang Rui’s brothers, for instance — their wellbeing was connected to Talang County. A person of that standing, without either the standing of a trusted old retainer or an official rank, would lack the authority to mediate and settle many matters.
Zhù Ying mentally reviewed her options and decided to have Wu Shuang temporarily take on this role. Wu Shuang was happy to have one more thing to do and patted her chest in promise.
Beyond that, Zhù Qingtian was also to escort the party for the first part of the journey. Su Mingluan wanted to add more guards, but Zhù Ying said, “That is not necessary. The fewer people who know, the better. Once I reach Pu’an Prefecture, I will select new people — I will choose from the camp.”
Su Mingluan said, “Suddenly switching from old attendants to new ones is easy to arouse suspicion. The old attendants here are tight-lipped.”
Only then did Zhù Ying agree to select twenty people to accompany her.
Before setting out, she also looked in on the two Jiang women, asking Jiang Zhen and Jiang Bao to keep an eye on Xiao Jiang. She then had a long talk with Liu Ao and Liu Yan. Liu Ao had not previously held an official position, and perhaps for that reason she found it easier than Su Mingluan to understand the court’s various intentions. Both women still had matters in hand that were unfinished, so they would remain at the administration.
Zhù Ying called for Zhù Qingtian: “Have Xiao Wu come and meet them — from now on, if they have matters inconvenient to speak openly, have Xiao Wu carry messages to me.”
Xiao Wu was one of Zhù Qingtian’s operatives — a capable little person, adept at gathering and passing along information. Unremarkable in appearance, he learned languages at remarkable speed and had an excellent memory. He ran a small shop in Xizhou City selling needles and thread and common household goods — he could turn up anywhere without attracting notice.
Liu Ao and Liu Yan found this both novel and exciting. Liu Ao said, “Two lines of communication for a great leader’s travels — one visible, one concealed — no such caution is excessive.” Liu Yan said, “We will keep watch over the administration for you.”
Zhù Ying looked at the expressions on their faces and said, “This arrangement is for you to carry out your proper work — do not go making mischief with it.”
“Yes.” Both bowed their heads repeatedly several times, smiling.
Zhù Ying said to Xiao Wu, “Until the two of them have settled down, there is no need to pay them any mind.”
This provoked a protest from Liu Ao.
Zhù Ying said, “All right — everyone get to work.” She herself then went to see Hou Wu. Hou Wu had followed the Zhù household for many years; since Zhang Xiangu’s passing, his health had steadily worsened. He was now bedridden, and Zhù Ying had specifically come to see him — partly to prevent others from taking advantage of him in his weakness.
Hou Wu spoke with phlegm constantly rattling in his throat, and his words came out very unclear. Zhù Ying said, “I have already spoken with Dajie. She will come to see you every day. Whatever you need, tell her.”
Hou Wu said with great difficulty, “I am not long for this world — I could join the old master and the Madam at any time now.” He spoke very slowly, but in his heart he understood everything clearly — he only hated that he could not get it all out at once. He knew that he was approaching the end of his days, and though he was glad that the promise of a “peaceful old age” spoken of for decades had indeed been honored by Zhù Ying, he still could not help making one final request — have his coffin prepared now; he did not want to be buried back in his old hometown either, just find a spot next to the Zhù family burial ground, and burn him a bit of paper when there was occasion to do so.
Zhù Ying agreed to this as well.
Hou Wu had never taken in an apprentice or adopted any children over the years, and in his old age he was genuinely rather lonely. He had once had a “disciple” of sorts — a young man he had taken a liking to while training the “household guards” back in Zhù County. The young man was honest and courteous, and had risen to a minor squad leader, commanding several dozen men — but he had the misfortune to die in the western campaign.
After that, Hou Wu no longer had the strength to take on and train another disciple.
Hou Wu said, “Now I can close my eyes in peace when the time comes.”
Zhù Ying said, “No gloomy words — I will come see you again when I return from my inspection.”
“Yes.” Hou Wu spoke, his mouth once again falling behind his mind. He wanted to say — the old comrades and companions of his youth had all been dead so long their bones had surely rotted away. He no longer asked for more now. These last years had not been bad. The Military Governor was doing well, yet here she was, being motherly and comforting people. His inner thoughts would not keep up with his mouth.
Seeing that both speech and movement cost him great effort, Zhù Ying stopped asking him to say more, rose to leave, and asked Dajie to find two attentive helpers to look after Hou Wu.
——
With the household affairs settled, Zhù Ying said one last word to Su Mingluan — the only one who now shared the secret: “Keep a close eye on things at home.”
Then she led her company toward Pu’an Prefecture.
She had the pretext of an “inspection tour,” so she did not travel too quickly. She patiently took the time to survey the localities along the route. In some places, new population surveys and land measurements had already begun; the postal roads had people maintaining them. Zhù Ying also inspected the irrigation channels and such, and as she went pointed things out to Zhù Qingxue, explaining why the water management was done the way it was in each place — here it is flat land, which naturally differs from mountain terrain.
She had a rough idea of the crop yields in different places. Since the move to Xizhou, the surrounding areas had been under cultivation, and the yields now bore no comparison to those of the earliest days. The total acreage of cultivated land in Xizhou had also grown by half. At present, what was most lacking was people; if there were enough able-bodied workers, the land that could be brought under cultivation would be far more than this.
Zhù Ying also had Zhù Qingtian with her, and along the way Zhù Qingtian too noticed things she had previously overlooked — from time to time she pulled out her notebook and jotted things down, reminding herself not to stay in Xizhou City all the time and to come out and see things with her own eyes from time to time. When she had filled one page, Zhù Ying said, “Qingtian, I have something to assign to you.”
Zhù Qingtian turned to a fresh page in her notebook, brush poised.
Zhù Ying said, “Dispatch people to thoroughly survey the postal road all the way to the capital — note where three to five thousand soldiers could be encamped, where sufficient food and supply could be found, the reputation and character of the officials along the route, the population of the towns and cities…”
Zhù Qingtian wrote until she broke into a cold sweat, but in the end had only one reply: “Yes.”
Traveling at a stop-and-start pace, they finally arrived at Pu’an Prefecture. Zhù Qingjun had already made preliminary preparations. According to the plan, they proceeded with the actual land reclamation. One concern that had been raised earlier was that the able-bodied men all had families and would be difficult to keep secret — the solution now was to relocate their families to the same place and have them all settle there together as agricultural colonists. Everyone gathered in one place together would keep the secret together.
The people of this era might live their entire lives without traveling more than fifty miles from home — most led a largely self-sufficient existence. What they could not produce themselves was supplied by traveling merchants. Even in Nan’an, where Zhù Ying actively encouraged trade, most people still spent their whole lives without leaving their home ground.
And in Nan’an in recent years, it had become customary to “relocate populations” to areas that were sparsely inhabited. The families called up for this had no objections.
Zhù Ying was fairly satisfied with this state of affairs. She settled in at this location. Zhù Qingjun had already organized the people into household registers and from among them selected those who could read and write, to assist with civilian administrative matters. The military training had also begun — though with only herself to manage it, while also keeping it secret and governing Pu’an Prefecture all at once, it was obviously not enough.
Zhù Ying herself could not stay here indefinitely either — she still had to periodically go and show her face elsewhere.
Zhù Qingjun requested: “Shall we transfer a few reliable people here to be stationed? Even if they cannot lead, at least they could help me.”
“Who do you have in mind?”
Lin Feng, Su Sheng, and Jin Yu would all have been good choices, but Lu Danqing was at the administration, while Lin, Su, and Jin still had to take turns guarding the border passes. So Zhù Qingjun instead asked for two captains from the western campaign, and beyond that also requested Zhù Tong.
Zhù Ying asked, “You still remember her?”
Zhù Qingjun said, “I think she has some natural ability, and she is willing to put in the effort. Her heart is in this. Her family’s vendetta has been avenged, and her younger sibling is doing well — she can devote herself to this. Even if she comes and finds she cannot manage, she can read and write, and helping as a clerk or overseeing the agricultural settlement here would also be useful.”
Zhù Ying said, “Agreed.”
Seeing that the outline of a military camp was taking shape, Zhù Ying found she had to set out again — her next destination was the northern border pass. From there she planned to swing west, take a look at the western pass, and if possible probe a little into western tribe territory. Then swing south — there were iron mines and gold mines there, among other resources.
After that, she would need to return to Xizhou for the autumn harvest — the prefects would be coming to Xizhou after the harvest to submit their accounts and give their annual reports, and Zhù Ying had to be present. So the inspection tour was bounded by that date.
She planned to go back to Pu’an Prefecture after the accounts were settled, to observe the winter training. The north was much colder than the south — that aspect would require careful thought.
Then swing east to see whether the unfortunate young Zhù Ming had been beaten to death by his own mother — whom Zhù Chonghua had hauled back home. After that, on to Wuzhou to check whether Lin Feng’s elder brother had been making trouble — it was Zhù Qingjun’s request for Zhù Tong that had reminded her of Zhù Tong’s companion Lin Ge.
The schedule was packed to the brim, leaving almost nothing unattended, and offering a fresh assessment of the changes Nan’an had undergone in various places over recent years.
Zhù Ying planned well and also executed well. Before and around the autumn harvest, she returned to the Xizhou administration.
——
Su Mingluan saw that she looked vigorous and healthy — only her skin had darkened slightly. She said, “You are finally back! There is something I have not been able to make sense of, and I was worried that passing along the official gazette to you might not explain it properly. Shiqi Niang also said she feared there might be some unusual movement at court.”
“Oh? What is it?”
They went to the receiving room, where Liu Ao was also waiting inside. She silently handed Zhù Ying an official gazette.
Zhù Ying scanned it and saw that the contents were vague — something about rewarding local gentry who had “rendered meritorious service in defending their land,” who would be granted official ranks according to their contributions, and permitted to lead their followers in service to the state.
Su Mingluan felt the matter was not particularly serious — the court was just muddling through as usual. Liu Ao, however, felt there was something suspicious underneath it: “Wang Shuliang does not seem like the sort of person who would give in without a word. And even if it were someone else — what prime minister of sound mind would be willing to accept this?”
But they were so far from the capital, and so many of the old connections had been severed — information was incomplete, and no deductions could be made. Both had been looking forward to Zhù Ying’s return.
Zhù Ying read two lines of the gazette again and said, “They are about to make their move. Yes — no prime minister wants to govern with local strongmen propping themselves up underneath him. The emperor would be even more unwilling. Wang Shuliang has a sense of the public good; Shi Jixing and Yao Chenying also have some ability; Xian Jing, for all his rigidity, is at least principled. For once, sovereign and ministers are of one mind. They are going to take back that promise of ‘gentry self-defense.'”
Liu Ao pressed her for more.
Zhù Ying said, “You — you understand the reasoning very well, but you are not quite underhanded enough in your thinking.
The bad actors in the court do it like this — since you have merit, come inside; bring your followers with you and we will welcome you. Fold them in. In plain terms: absorb and pacify them.
Never mind that it is ‘gentry self-defense’ that the court previously permitted — once you are ‘holding private troops,’ you are not so different from a bandit, and the court cannot stomach that sight. Give you an official post, absorb your troops into the official army — they are no longer under your command. That is stripping you of your military power.
Even though the forces of these local gentry are usually not large — a few dozen or a few hundred men — they are not deserving of the name ‘military power’ in any grand sense. But the intention is there.
If they comply peacefully — after all, they are not rebels — they can at least get themselves an official post, even an idle one. For the court to do that much would be considered generous. If they have other ideas, or cannot bring themselves to give up that feeling of commanding authority, they are not far from death.”
Liu Ao said, “They would provoke them into rebellion and then… is that not…”
Zhù Ying shook her head. “Why would they do that? If you want to keep your troops, fine — take your soldiers and go fight. Hand you the hardest bones to crack. If you kill the rebels, then the rebels who die now were today’s criminals — and you, who might have become tomorrow’s criminal, are conveniently eliminated. If the rebels kill you, then a potential future criminal is disposed of just as well. Whether you or the rebels die, the court profits either way. And if best of all you and the rebels bleed each other out — what could be better?”
Both Liu Ao and Su Mingluan fell silent at this. Su Mingluan was struck by how ingenious and ruthless the method was; Liu Ao was simply… having her eyes opened to a whole new world.
She said, “Wang Shuliang is a gentleman; Shi Jixing is also considered even-tempered. Surely they would not go so far…”
Zhù Ying said, “Why ever not? They are prime ministers — the more of a gentleman one is, the more one desires peace under heaven, and therefore the more one must do exactly this! This is good for the world — is it not?
Yes — the people being thrown into the grinder are a little wronged, but for a court that wishes to be ‘generous,’ there is a price to pay. That price is not only a change of dynasty — it can also mean harm coming down upon the common people.
People capable of finding a way for all sides to benefit are too rare. What one can do is patch and maneuver — even the cleverest person has problems they cannot solve. If the Council of Ministers truly achieves its goal, the emperor’s luck is almost too good — the historians might credit him with a ‘resurgence.'”
Liu Ao said, “Still better than fragmentation. Once a land is split apart, the warlords fight each other, and the people have no peace — neither noble nor common escapes unscathed. Let us hope Wang Shuliang and the others can pull it back from the brink, and let us hope the gentry of the realm have enough sense of the public good to end up with a decent outcome.”
Su Mingluan had already understood, and said, “I see that this gazette does not mention us. We have also not received any orders from the court regarding us. They should still be treating us as a protectorate. Ancestor — this year, shall we not send some grain and cloth to the court?”
Zhù Ying said, “They have no spare hands to deal with us right now. And not only us — even all those others could not be settled by a single imperial edict. There are countless petty details involved, and there is a great deal of complexity in this. Still, it is best to prepare. Make the gesture — let them feel at ease and get on with proper business. Peace under heaven is better than turmoil.”
“Yes. Then — who shall we send?”
Zhù Ying glanced at Liu Ao — with a touch of regret. It was not the right moment to provoke Wang Shuliang. Zhù Ying said, “Have Zhù Lian go, and bring Zhao Ji and Lang Rui along.”
“Yes.”
Zhù Ying simply picked up her brush and wrote several letters — to Gu Tong and the others. They were still serving as officials in different parts of the country. Just the right time to ask them what was happening to the local gentry in their respective regions.