Three Kingdoms: A Million Soldiers Grown from the Fields

Chapter 152 Great Harvest

Just as Xun Yu and his two companions were strategizing at the Jinyang Prefectural Governor's residence, the shockwave from the sudden collapse of the Yangqu Zhang Clan was sweeping across the entire Taiyuan Prefecture at an alarming speed, and was spreading to the other border prefectures of Bingzhou.

The Zhou family of Qi County was the second most powerful family in Taiyuan Prefecture after the former Wang family.

Patriarch Zhou Min listened as his trusted elder trembled as he reported the details of Yang Qu's situation.

Zhao Shi's iron fist, Zhang Yu's collapse, mountains of evidence, the confiscation of his vast fortune, and the change of ownership of more than 20,000 mu of fertile land... The jade ruyi he had been playing with for many years fell to the ground with a "clatter" and shattered into pieces.

His face was ashen, and after a long while he murmured, "Zhang Yu... is it all over? More than 20,000 mu of land... tens of millions of strings of cash... just like that, gone?" A chill ran from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

He suddenly remembered the land he had acquired through "means," the shady account books, and the hundreds of private soldiers he kept...

"Quickly! Hide what needs to be hidden, burn what needs to be burned! Tell the people below to collect their belongings! Collect them all! From today onwards, all land rent will be paid according to... according to the new tax reduction decree issued by the prefectural government! No, reduce it by another half! Also, quickly prepare generous gifts, as I am going to Jinyang to pay my respects to Prefect Zhang and Magistrate Xun!"

For the first time, fear so clearly overwhelmed greed. Zhang Xian was not Wang Ze; he brought not compromise, but a tough stance of either submission or annihilation!
The Li family of Yuci started as merchants and became extremely wealthy. They had a long-standing relationship with Zhang Yu.

Li Mao, the head of the Li family, trembled as if he were being shaken by the pale report from the shopkeeper he had sent to Yangqu to gather information.

"It's over...it's all over...Zhang Bancheng has fallen, and our little affair..." He remembered the bribery ledgers that were seized from the Zhang family, which must have his name and the amount on them!
"Quick! Load all those treasures in the storeroom, and that batch of fine Shu brocade that's been piling up, onto the carts! No, that's not enough! Open the cellar again, and take... take five hundred gold coins! No, take eight hundred! I need to go to Jinyang immediately! To find Registrar Gu! No, to find Chief Clerk Han! As long as I can save my Li family, I'm willing to go bankrupt!"

Businessmen are masters of judging the times and situations. At this moment, Li Mao only wants to use money to buy his life, to buy a chance to survive under the new policies.

The Sun family of Meng County were local minor powerful families who were deeply attached to Zhang Yu.

When Sun Bao, the head of the Sun family, learned that Zhang Yu had been imprisoned and his family property had been confiscated, he was struck as if by lightning, followed by boundless fear.

"Quickly! Bring out all the land deeds that were forcibly seized from the estate! Also, tell the farmers who are supposed to report their acreage to do so immediately!"

The rent owed... is all waived! No, open the granaries! Open the granaries and distribute grain! Every tenant household will receive one bushel of millet! Go quickly!

He roared incoherently, wanting nothing more than to distance himself from the situation, fearing that Zhao Shi's guillotine would fall on his head at any moment.

All the prestige of powerful and influential families is utter nonsense in the face of annihilation!
Yinguan City.

Inside the prefectural governor's mansion, Ding Yuan frowned as he looked at the copy of the official gazette sent by fast horse from Jinyang, his fingers unconsciously tapping on the table.

His local military commanders and officials, as well as Lü Bu, all wore solemn expressions and dared not utter a sound.

"What a ruthless tactic! What a vicious tactic!"

Ding Yuan sighed: "Using the name of the law, they are actually carrying out a purge! Zhang Xian is not just a brute who knows only how to kill; he is cunning and far-sighted, and now he has Xun Yu, a son of the Xun family, plotting for him! The Zhang family of Yangqu and the Wang family of Jinyang have had their century-old foundations destroyed in a single day... This is a warning to others."

He glanced around at the people below and sighed again, "Fengxian..."

“Godfather,” Lü Bu stepped forward and cupped his hands in greeting.

"You have a connection with Zhang Zhonglang, so please visit him often in the future."

".promise,"

A glint appeared in Lü Bu's eyes.

Xihe County, located near Shicheng.

Tuoba Ye, the leader of the largest Qiang tribe in the county, was drinking with several of his followers.

When news of Yang Qu arrived, the banquet fell silent instantly. Tuoba Ye put down his wine bowl, his large, round eyes widening for a long while before he finally instructed, "Tell the men below to restrain their troops and not to cause trouble in Taiyuan County recently! This Zhang Xian..."

He recalled the news that had come from the northern grasslands and felt a vague unease in his heart.
-
The eagle's cry pierced the clouds, echoing long and deep among the towering cliffs of the Taihang Mountains, only to be quickly swallowed by the boundless silence.

Zhang Xian reined in his horse and stopped at the edge of a sheer cliff, his dark cloak billowing in the biting mountain wind.

Beneath your feet lies a bottomless valley, where clouds and mist surge like a raging white tide, billowing among the jagged rocks.

Behind him, a dozen elite guards silently controlled more than thirty strong horses. They were all covered in dust, but their eyes were as sharp as eagles, vigilantly scanning every rock and every shadow around them.

The burly man in the group, with dark skin and iron-like bones, was none other than Wu Shan, the best mountain patroller and hunter in Lüqi.

"My lord." Wu Shan spurred his horse forward half a step, his voice rough like a mountain rock, pointing to the faintly visible path below the mist-shrouded valley.

A thin, gray-white line, like a giant python, coils between the precipitous peaks.

"The cliff beneath our feet is called 'Ape's Sorrow Cliff,' and it is the first perilous place! To get down to the road, we have to go around to the east for five miles. There is a 'cliffside plank,' which is no more than three feet wide. On the other side is this bottomless abyss!"
When people and horses pass through this area, they must be unsaddled and led along; the slightest misstep could result in certain death! Years ago, I was with a merchant caravan and witnessed firsthand a packhorse stumble and fall, carrying its rider and cargo, without even a sound!

He paused, then pointed to several narrow crevices in the clouds further away, as if cleaved by a giant axe: "After passing the 'Cliffside Plank Road,' comes the 'Eighteen Bends'! That's the real gate to hell! The mountain path is so steep that even livestock have to crawl on their knees. It twists and turns eighteen times, and at its narrowest point, only one person can pass sideways!"
In winter, icicles cling to the walls, making it slippery and difficult to walk on. In summer, torrential rains wash away mud and rocks, causing caravans to tumble and roll. At best, they are delayed for half a day; at worst, they lose both people and goods!
Zhang Xian's gaze followed Wu Shan's pointing finger, sweeping inch by inch over the menacing "Three Gates of Hell" in the clouds and mist, as if he could penetrate the swirling fog and see the trembling pedestrians on the narrow plank road.

He knew the well path was treacherous, and last year he even personally led a team from Zhengding to Lüchi.

It was precisely because of the perilous terrain that he personally led his men here again.

This time, he will mark dangerous locations, set up beacon towers and supply points, in preparation for the population surge next year.

Ji Province has a large population, and if the Yellow Turban Rebellion breaks out, they will definitely flee in all directions. Now that Taiyuan is basically pacified, what remains is to consolidate the Jingxing Road and send out corresponding troops to patrol and defend it.

Once the chaos of war begins, they will move east out of the Taihang Mountains and into Changshan territory to establish fortifications, take in the people of Jizhou, and send them to Bingzhou.

With the land of Bingzhou and the people of Jizhou, we will have no fear of failing!
"Let's hurry and select the best patrol routes from these dangerous locations!"

"promise!"

He only felt at ease when he personally designed the well track.
-
The autumn wind finally dispelled the last trace of heat in the north and thoroughly permeated the land of Lüchi.

The Hutuo River's flow became gentle and clear, reflecting the vast blue sky. The banks of the river, and the plains and gentle slopes as far as the eye could see, had now transformed into a boundless golden sea.

The heavy ears of wheat bent the sturdy stalks, so full they seemed about to burst open at any moment. Under the autumn sun, they flowed with a molten gold luster, and as the wind passed, they surged up wave after wave of thick, solid waves.

On the gentle slope to the east of the city, a completely different scene unfolds.

The dark green pumpkin vines still spread out, but they could no longer completely conceal the abundant fruit beneath them.

Countless golden, round pumpkins stubbornly peek out from among the vines and under the leaves, some lying down, some leaning, shimmering with a warm and rich luster in the sunlight.

The large ones were as big as small millstones, and the small ones were bigger than a strong man's head. They hung heavily on the vines, pulling the tough vines down.

The horns of harvest have sounded in every corner of Lüsi.

Han Ji stood on the north gate tower, overlooking this vibrant, golden land.

His worn official robe fluttered in the autumn wind, and the weariness etched on his brow from handling various arrangements over the past few days was now washed away by the joy of the impending harvest.

His gaze swept across the rolling wheat fields, across the golden pumpkin slopes, across the endless stream of oxcarts loaded with newly harvested wheat bundles on the official road, and across the figures in the fields, sweating profusely yet smiling broadly.

A heavy, incredibly comforting warmth rose from the soles of my feet, filled my limbs and bones, and finally gathered in my chest, heavy and comforting.

On the alluvial plain of the Hutuo River, 40,000 mu of wheat fields form a golden sea.

The heavy waves of wheat seemed to stretch endlessly to the horizon, meeting the azure sky.

The wind blows through the wheat fields, creating endless golden waves that rustle softly.

The fields were already bustling with people.

The strong men wore sleeveless short-sleeved shirts, revealing their bronze arms that were glistening with sweat, and wielded sharp sickles in a series of bright arcs.

"Chop! Chop! Chop!" The sound of sickles cutting wheat stalks was crisp and rapid. They moved skillfully, bending over and swinging their arms, and a large field of golden wheat obediently fell down, neatly spreading behind them.

Sweat streamed down their taut muscles, dripping onto the dry soil and disappearing instantly, leaving only dark marks. Women, children, and the elderly followed closely behind, deftly bundling the cut wheat into sturdy sheaves.

The rough wheat stalks rubbed against their palms, but no one complained of pain; the smiles on their faces were brighter than the autumn sun.

The children, like carefree ponies, ran and darted among the bundled haystacks, occasionally picking up a fallen, plump ear of wheat and showing it to the adults like a treasure, earning a few words of pampering praise in return.

"Wang Litou! Look at the wheat ears on your land, they're so heavy they're almost poking into the ground!"

A man straightened up, wiped the hot sweat from his forehead, and shouted loudly to an old farmer in the field next to him who was also swinging his sickle with all his might, his tone full of heartfelt joy.

That old farmer was none other than Old Man Wang.

He stopped what he was doing, straightened up with his sickle in hand, his deeply lined face already smeared with sweat and dust, but he was grinning so wide that his eyes were almost closed, revealing a gap in his teeth.

He tremblingly reached out and carefully stroked several unusually thick stalks of wheat beside him, their ears of wheat growing like wolf tails. His rough fingers felt the hard, plump grains, and tears welled up in his cloudy old eyes.

"The magistrate's divine plow... the divine ox... and these fine seeds..." Old Wang's voice choked with emotion.

"My lord! Grain to save our lives!" A hoarse cry, filled with decades of bitterness and immense happiness, suddenly burst forth from the haystack, its sound echoing across the fields! The voice was old and hoarse, yet it was full of power that pierced the clouds.

The surrounding farmers stopped what they were doing and silently watched the figure trembling with emotion and tears streaming down his face in the wheat pile. There was no mockery, only deep empathy and understanding.

Many people quietly wiped the corners of their eyes.

For so many years? Generations have toiled in the fields, their sweat pouring down their faces, yet they might not be able to reap such a bountiful harvest, enough to overwhelm anyone! These heavy, golden ears of wheat are life itself!
It's the family's hope to survive and live a better life!

"Dad! Look! The cart is coming!" Old Wang's son, a strong and sturdy man, shouted excitedly, pointing in the direction of the official road.

On the official road, a long line of oxcarts was slowly approaching.

Leading the way were the official oxen allocated by the county government, followed by many horse-drawn carriages and donkey carts.

The truck was empty, waiting to be loaded with the fruits of the harvest.

The men driving the carts couldn't help but grin and shout as they looked at the endless golden sea and the bustling scene before them.

"Loading! Loading!" Someone shouted first.

Instantly, an even louder roar erupted from the field. The men swung their arms, hoisted heavy bundles of wheat onto their shoulders, and walked steadily toward the oxcarts at the edge of the field.

The women and children worked together to pass the bundles of wheat up the cart, and the golden wheat was neatly stacked on the cart, piling higher and higher.

The pumpkin slope on the other side.

Standing on a high point in his pumpkin patch, Zhao Youtian gazed at the slope almost entirely submerged in golden pumpkins, his lips trembling with excitement. He held a thick-backed machete in his hand, yet hesitated to chop at the tenacious vines that held the pumpkins together.

He squatted down, his rough hands repeatedly stroking a huge pumpkin at his feet that required two arms to encircle.

The melon had a smooth and firm rind, a uniform color, and felt quite heavy in the hand; it probably weighed no less than sixty or seventy pounds!

"A divine object...it really is a divine object..." the old man murmured to himself, his voice trembling.

"My lord... you have truly brought us, the people of Luqi, a great blessing!" He recalled the scene of carefully planting the seeds during the spring sowing season, and the doubts he had at that time.

At this moment, this weighty, golden reality is right before our eyes, more powerful than any words!

"Brother Zhao! What are you waiting for? Let's start picking!" A hearty laugh came from the field next door.

It was Old Liu, the neighbor. He had already skillfully cut the vines and was working hard to carry a slightly smaller but equally round and golden pumpkin onto the wheelbarrow.

"Pick it! Pick it now!" Zhao Youtian seemed to wake from a dream, and his heroic spirit was suddenly ignited.

He stood up, took a deep breath of the intoxicating aroma of the melon, swung his machete, and chopped hard at the base of the thick vine connecting the giant pumpkin!
"Crack!"

The vine snapped in response, and Zhao Youtian bent down, his arm muscles bulging, and roared, "Lift!" He steadily lifted the huge golden melon, weighing dozens of kilograms, off the ground! The heavy weight made his arms tremble slightly, but the old man's face was filled with an almost sacred satisfaction and pride.

He carried the enormous pumpkin as if it were a priceless treasure, and steadily walked step by step toward the oxcart parked at the edge of the field.

Throughout the gentle slope, one could see such busy and joyful figures everywhere.

The sounds of chopping vines, panting as people moved pumpkins, creaking under the weight of oxcarts, and the laughter and exclamations of farmers showing off the size of their pumpkins mingled together.

"Dad! Look at mine! It's even rounder than yours!" A boy, about half a year old, ran over excitedly, carrying a perfectly round pumpkin, his face flushed red.

"Hey! Old Zhang! This pumpkin of yours must be a spirit! It's almost as big as a millstone!" Several men marveled at an unusually large pumpkin and tried to lift it together.

The women, holding small knives, carefully cut open some pumpkins that had been accidentally bruised or were not perfectly shaped, revealing the thick, golden flesh inside.

The sweet aroma wafted out even more intensely.

They deftly scooped out the melon pulp and placed it in a wooden basin, where it shone golden.

The plump pumpkin seeds were carefully collected and laid out to dry on a straw mat. The dark brown seeds covered the ground like black pearls, a symbol of hope for the coming year.

"Auntie, what should we do with the flesh?" a young woman asked, looking at a large bowl full of tempting golden melon flesh.

"What should we do? It's obvious you weren't paying attention in class at the thatched cottage!" The older woman said with a smile.

"Steamed pumpkin cakes! Pumpkin porridge! Sun-dried pumpkin! The magistrate taught us all this long ago!"

Soon, wisps of smoke rose from the village below the slope, and in addition to the sweet fragrance of fruits, the air was filled with the enticing aroma of steaming food.

One after another, oxcarts and wheelbarrows, laden with the harvest, wound their way down the slope and merged into the official road leading to the county town.

The once wide streets of Luqi City now appear somewhat crowded.

It wasn't a crowd of people, but a flow of food.

Ox-carts laden with bundles of wheat and wheelbarrows piled high with golden pumpkins poured in from all the city gates, like rivers flowing into the sea, ultimately converging on the same goal—the huge, long-emptied warehouse area behind the Luqi County government office.

The massive wooden doors of the granary were already wide open.

The granary officials and yamen runners were already on high alert, each one in high spirits, their faces beaming with pride and excitement.

The clerks set up dozens of tables along the way to register the grain collected by each household. After the grain was dried, it was distributed according to the quota.

Although this was a bit more troublesome, it greatly consolidated the grain supplies, and the county government could better understand the situation of each household.

This year's measure is a temporary measure to prepare for next year's population surge. Once the Lüqi grain variety is widely adopted throughout Taiyuan, this measure will naturally no longer be necessary.

Soldiers on leave in the Jiaqi camp were also temporarily transferred to maintain order and assist with transport.

Although they were dressed in light armor, they were quick and strong, making them the main force in the transport.

The threshing ground was located on a very open rammed earth site next to the storage area.

Countless bundles of harvested wheat were transported here and piled up into golden hills.

The strong men stood in pairs, facing each other, their hands tightly gripping flails.

"rise--!"

At a command, the men swung their arms with all their might! The heavy flail, propelled by inertia, drew powerful arcs in the air, whistling through the wind, and slammed down on the wheat ears scattered on the ground!

(End of this chapter)