Love Lock

Chapter 201 The Family of the Imperial Concubine of the Great Jing
The leaden-gray clouds hung low, bringing a rare coolness to the sweltering summer day.

Today, the site of the cement plant project in Fufeng County was bustling with people. Thousands of laborers, craftsmen, and tens of thousands of newly arrived migrants had all gathered on the open ground of the newly built pig farm, and the various noises revealed an undisguised excitement.

Zhao Zun stood on a makeshift pine platform, his fingertips lightly tapping the ledger in his hand.

Han Lei, who was standing beside him, was leaning over and talking quietly with Hua Tianyou, her pale yellow skirt fluttering in the wind.

Xiao Zhengfei's personal guard battalion stood in a row behind them, protecting their safety.

In one corner of the platform, hundreds of brand-new bedding sets were neatly arranged, complete with sheets and blankets.

Among the crowd below the stage, several young craftsmen were standing on tiptoe, pointing at the gray-blue cement buildings in the distance, their voices trembling with excitement.

"See that? Those are glass windows! I heard even the outhouse inside is made of porcelain!"

"Of course I know, we built those houses."

"The prince said that rooms will be assigned today, but I wonder who will get one. I really envy them."

"quiet!"

Xiao Zhengfei and his personal guards shouted in unison, and the clanging of armored vehicles immediately silenced the scene.

Zhao Zun specially wore a prince's python robe today to show his status.

He took a step forward, cleared his throat, and held up the ledger marked with a ballpoint pen, his voice booming like a bell.

"Do you all know why I am undertaking this large-scale construction project here?" Before anyone could answer, Zhao Zun asked himself, "It is so that every hardworking citizen of Cangzhou can live and work in peace and contentment! Today, the first batch of three hundred houses will be distributed according to work points."

The audience immediately erupted in excitement.

The newly arrived refugee, Old Man Wang, tugged at the sleeve of the craftsman beside him and asked urgently, "How are work points calculated?"

The craftsman proudly puffed out his chest: "Every day after we finish our work, the foreman makes a record. The prince said that work points are calculated based on how much work was done that day."

"That's wonderful! Once I've saved up enough work points, I'll be able to have a house too!" Old Man Wang exclaimed excitedly.

Having wandered all the way from Jingzhou to here, he saw that apart from the mansions of the nobles which were built of wood, the houses of the common people along the roadside were either thatched huts or mud-brick structures.

That's why a rainstorm left them homeless.

After spending a few days here, they visited the houses and roads, which were built with something called cement, making them incredibly sturdy.

Although the cost is calculated per centimeter and people have to wait in line, those cement houses were built for ordinary people like them.

The prince and princess also provided them with basic daily necessities, how could they not be excited?
Han Lei stood up at this moment, her slender white fingers gently stroking the pile of quilts beside her.

The clouds swirled and rolled, and the sunlight pierced through them, making the golden hairpin at her temples shimmer and glow.

“Those who receive the keys to the house will receive a set of bedding, such as cotton quilts and mattresses.” Her voice was soft and gentle, like pearls falling on a jade plate. “In addition, they will also receive a ceramic pot and several bowls and chopsticks.”

As Zhao Zun began calling out names, cheers erupted from the crowd.

"Yang Dazhu, Room 1, East District."

Yang Dazhu, with his dark complexion, staggered onto the stage. His calloused hands were about to touch the bedding when he suddenly pulled back and frantically wiped them on his clothes.

Han Lei chuckled upon seeing this: "Master Yang, there's no need for formalities. This is all earned through your hard work."

Yang Dazhu suddenly knelt down with a thud, his forehead hitting the wooden platform heavily: "Your Highness and Your Highness have shown me such great kindness and virtue, I can finally have a home..."

"Master Yang, go over there and wait in line!" Han Lei said with a smile. "General Hua will take them back to see their new house later. If there's anything lacking, we can gradually improve it in the future."

"Yes! Thank you, Your Highness."

Yang Dazhu took the keys and bedding, and happily went to line up below the stage.

Zhao Zun continued calling out names: "Zhou Wu, Room 2, East District."

……

Every time a name was called to come up on stage, Han Lei and Hua Tianyou were responsible for distributing bedding. Zhao Ling'er was responsible for taking notes.

The homeless people finally have a place to live, and the prince and princess have prepared such complete home supplies for them.

Those who were allocated rooms were all moved to tears and prostrated themselves in gratitude.

As the last laborer assigned to a new house walked down from the platform, Zhao Zun smiled with satisfaction.

He took a deep breath and said loudly, "Gentlemen, you are all heroes in the development of Cangzhou. Although we are facing some difficulties now, the houses are still under construction. As long as you work hard and earn more, one day you will all receive your own houses and live a happy life."

A cheer erupted from below; the phrase "the more you work, the more you earn" made them realize that Cangzhou was different from other places.

After the grand event concluded, Hua Tianyou led the laborers and craftsmen who had been allocated new houses toward the residential area.

A lame craftsman suddenly pointed at the roof and exclaimed, "Look, those black tiles are reflecting light!"

Hua Tianyou laughed and patted him on the shoulder: "Silly boy, those are solar panels designed by the princess. They can light up the night!"

At the same time, Zhao Ling'er led the pre-assigned personnel to the chicken and duck farm and the pig farm.

"Work in two shifts! Remember to mix the feed according to this ratio!"

Her notebook was filled with notes on the modern aquaculture techniques taught by Han Lei.

Several elderly farm women stood around the newly built cement feeding trough, marveling at how smooth it was: "The pig feed won't even stick to the bottom!"

Cement plants, construction teams, and mines provided opportunities for men of all ages to use their skills, while farming, raising pigs and chickens and ducks also gave the elderly, women, and children work opportunities, allowing everyone to use their talents.

Standing on the high platform, Han Lei watched the crowd gradually disperse and began to think about the next development plan.

At this moment, Ma Zi, covered in sweat, ran up the high platform: "Your Highness! A message has arrived by carrier pigeon from the capital!"

Zhao Zun took the book and opened it. As he read through it, his brows gradually furrowed.

Xiao Zhengfei leaned closer, his hand on the hilt of his sword: "Your Highness, has something changed?"

"It was sent by Uncle Liu. His Majesty and the Empress have passed away, and the Prince of Xuzhou has succeeded to the throne."

Xiao Zhengfei glanced at the crowd that had already walked away, lowered his voice and chuckled softly, "Did that explosion really kill the Emperor and Empress? Heh."

“Yes!” Zhao Zun sneered and crumpled the note. “It’s not a good thing for the King of Xuzhou to become emperor. One of them is suspicious and the other is ruthless. We still need to be careful.”

He turned to look at the factory under construction and suddenly raised his voice.

"With the new emperor on the throne, there are many miscellaneous matters. Zhengfei, we have plenty of manpower now. Issue the order: starting immediately, expand the cement plant and double its output! When the new emperor remembers this remote northwestern region..."

As he spoke, Zhao Zun abruptly stopped, but Xiao Zhengfei saw a cold glint flash in the prince's eyes, even colder than a drawn sword.

"Yes!"

Xiao Zhengfei bowed and accepted the order before leaving.

The transition between old and new regimes was the best opportunity, but he did not urge Zhao Zun to raise an army now. Because he knew what Zhao Zun wanted.

Han Lei had somehow appeared beside Zhao Zun. She looked at the crowd of people happily moving into their new homes in the distance and suddenly recited softly, "How I wish I had thousands of mansions."

"May all the poor and needy of the world be sheltered and smile with joy." After finishing this line, Zhao Zun suddenly gripped Han Lei's hand tightly. "Girl, what we want to build is more than just grand mansions."

He pointed to the construction site further away where the foundation was being laid, "There are houses over there, a school will be there, and... the waterworks you mentioned." "So, you've even planned out the location of the school?" Han Lei's pretty eyes sparkled.

“Of course.” Zhao Zun naturally put his arm around Han Lei’s shoulder. “I not only want our children to become knowledgeable like you in the future, but I also want the children of the people of Cangzhou to know a little bit. Only in this way can each generation surpass the last.”

"Ugh!" Han Lei's pretty face flushed slightly. "You're just saying that we should focus on education, aren't you?"

"Yes! That's exactly what I mean. You really understand me."

Zhao Zun affectionately pinched Han Lei's nose and hugged her even tighter.

The two figures embracing each other amidst the bustling construction scene appeared harmonious and heartwarming...

In July, the grasslands are lush with grass and abundant water.

The grassland stretched out like a green carpet to the horizon, with waves of grass undulating in the wind, and flocks of sheep dotting the landscape like scattered pearls.

Boru Khan stood on the earthen slope outside the tribe, his rough fingers gripping the curved sword at his waist, his gaze piercing through the rising heat, stubbornly fixed on the direction of Yong'an City.

"Khan, the sun is too strong, go back to your tent and rest." The old shaman approached, leaning on his animal bone staff, his wrinkles etched with the marks of the grasslands.

Boru shook his head, his thick black braids swaying gently in the wind.

"The delegation has been gone for two months; news should have come back long ago." His voice still carried a hint of childishness, but his furrowed brow made him look like an old man. "If the Emperor of Great Jing refuses the marriage alliance..."

Behind him, a group of Turkic warriors were lined up in an arc, practicing using slingshots to launch bullets.

And you know what? After a long period of training, their slingshot distances and accuracy improved significantly. Unfortunately, compared to pistol shooting, they were still miles behind.

The Turks used almost all of their iron weapons to melt down and make bullets. Now, apart from slingshots, they have few decent weapons left.

The warriors' dark, muscular arms pulled the rubber bands behind their ears, and the moment they released them, an iron "peanut" shot out, kicking up a cloud of dust a hundred paces away.

"Missed again!" The young warrior, Batel, shook his slingshot in frustration. "This thing is much harder to use than a bow and arrow!"

The old craftsman, Mudu, bent down and picked up a deformed bullet, sighing, "The tribe's last iron was melted down to make these things... Alas!"

Boru's brow furrowed even more.

The scene of the Turkic cavalry fleeing back in disgrace three months ago is still vivid in my mind.

The Great Jing border army used a mysterious "peanut" weapon, and the Turks' bravest warriors fell like autumn grass. In the post-battle inventory, they hadn't even touched the hem of the enemy's clothing.

"Keep training!" Bolu Khan suddenly roared, startling several lambs grazing nearby. "Even if we have to use slingshots, we must let the Great Jing people know the might of the Turkic warriors!"

As they were talking, two slits suddenly appeared in the distant waves of grass. Two swift horses galloped towards them like arrows released from a bow.

The wolf-head flag on the rider's back fluttered in the wind, and Boru's heart leaped—it was a messenger sent back by the mission!

"Report!"

The lead rider rolled off his saddle, his knees carving two deep furrows in the grass.

He held aloft a bright yellow imperial edict, his voice hoarse with excitement: "The Emperor of Dajing agrees to the marriage alliance! He bestows two million shi of grain, ten looms, and five hundred bolts of cloth. The cloth will be sent to the Turks immediately after the marriage alliance ceremony."

The grassland fell silent instantly, as if even the wind had stopped breathing.

"Is this true?"

Boru Khan's hand trembled slightly as he received the imperial edict; the gold-embroidered dragon pattern on the silk was so bright in the blazing sun that he could hardly open his eyes.

He carefully deciphered the large, square characters, then suddenly burst into laughter, the sound nearly scattering the clouds in the sky.

Having fought on the border between the Turks and the Great Jing for so many years, he thought the Great Jing emperor would not easily accept a marriage alliance.

That's why he had the delegation bring a large amount of jewels that couldn't be eaten as bargaining chips during negotiations.

Unexpectedly, the Emperor of the Great Jing Dynasty was so magnanimous.

Not only did they agree to the marriage alliance, they also provided the Turks with a large amount of supplies.

What he didn't know was that if Chief He Shu hadn't held back during the negotiations, Princess Yujia wouldn't have had the chance to get those supplies.

"May the Eternal Heaven bless you!" Boru Khan held the imperial edict high above his head, sunlight filtering through the silk and reddening his face. "Yujia is now the Imperial Consort of the Great Jing!"

Cheers immediately spread like wildfire.

Warriors raised their arms high, women tossed colorful scarves into the air, and children frolicked and played among the crowd.

The old shaman struck a copper bell with his bone staff, his aged voice chanting a blessing incantation.

Batel excitedly grabbed his companion: "Did you hear that? Two million bushels of grain! This winter, Mother won't have to save rations to feed the sheep anymore!"

Bolu turned and walked toward the smelting tent, his leather boots kicking up dust.

He lifted the tent flap, and a wave of heat, carrying the metallic smell of iron, rushed towards him. Beside the furnace lay a small mountain of unused "peanuts." The intense heat of the furnace reflected on his face.

“It’s all melted.” He waved his hand. “It’s all thrown back into the scimitars and arrows.”

Mudu was so startled that he dropped his tongs: "Khan, what if it's the Great Jing people..."

“There won’t be any unforeseen circumstances.” Bolu grabbed a handful of bullets and grinned. “The imperial edict is stamped with the imperial seal. We are now related to the Great Jing by marriage. The Great Jing will only protect us and will never attack us first. We just need to fight back with our curved arrows.”

The craftsmen looked at each other in bewilderment. The fire cast their shadows on the felt tents, making them look like a group of dancing demons.

Finally, Mudu nodded emphatically, picked up the pile of bullet heads with his hands, and threw them into the furnace...

At sunset, a bonfire is lit in the center of the tribe, and the Turks sing and dance.

Thanks to the supplies Princess Yujia obtained in exchange, they will no longer have to suffer from hunger and cold this winter.

Boru Khan sprinkled mare's milk wine in all directions, and the wine droplets sparkled like rubies in the firelight.

"Bater!" he summoned the young warrior. "Gather thirty riders, prepare plenty of water and rations, and set off for Yinshan in half a month to welcome the delegation back."

"Yes, sir!" Batel knelt on one knee, then hesitated, "Khan, should we... bring some slingshots for self-defense?"

Bolu laughed and patted the curved sword at his waist.

“From this day forward,” Boru Khan’s voice echoed under the starry sky, “we and the Great Jing are now in the same boat.”

The night wind carried the songs of shepherds from afar, mingled with the howls of wolves.

Bolu gazed at the southern starry sky and vaguely saw Yu Jia wearing a phoenix crown.

He touched the wolf tooth hanging on his chest, a keepsake exchanged between him and his sister when they parted.

The cold, sharp teeth pressed against his skin, and Boru Khan suddenly remembered the last words of the imperial edict, "May we be forever allied," and a smile involuntarily crept onto his lips.

The furnace fire burned all night, and the sound of hammers startled the wolves on the grassland.

As the morning star rises, the first batch of newly forged scimitars are already pinned to the belts of the warriors.

Boru Khan stroked the newly engraved totem emblem on the blade, thinking that once the grain arrived, he would have the craftsmen inlay some gemstones on the handle.

After all, the Turks are now the maternal relatives of Consort Jing.

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