Song Dynasty: Yuan Dynasty, you didn't expect this, did you? I'm still alive.

In the early part of the third year of the Jingyan era, the sea breeze, carrying a humid and hot atmosphere, swept across Luzon Island. Right Chancellor Wen Tianxiang, along with civil and military officials and hundreds of thousands of Song citizens, migrated there. Because of their distance from their homeland in the Central Plains, although the banners of the Great Song Dynasty still flew over Luzon, later generations quietly began to refer to it as the Eastern Song Dynasty.

To accelerate the development of Luzon Island, Wen Tianxiang personally traversed the plains and valleys of the southern part of the island to investigate soil fertility and water distribution. He ultimately compiled and promulgated a decree—the "Land Reclamation Law." The decree stipulated that anyone who voluntarily went to southern Luzon to reclaim wasteland, regardless of the size of the reclaimed area, would own all the land and be exempt from taxes for three years.

This plan, once announced, was like a thunderclap in the streets and alleys of Luzon. The people, exhausted both physically and mentally from their previous migrations and unwilling to leave Luzon again, were instantly ignited by the allure of the land. They set off southward, some with their families, others in groups, carrying simple packs, towards that unknown yet hopeful land.

Yang Ye was one of those who migrated. He was one of the earliest soldiers of the Eastern Song Dynasty to follow Lu Xiufu in developing Luzon Island. With his bravery, he was always at the forefront in every battle with the indigenous tribes. Lu Xiufu personally rewarded him with three indigenous women. By the third year of Jingyan, the three women had given birth to two sons and a daughter for him. The sounds of children playing could often be heard in the small courtyard of his thatched hut.

Yang Ye, overjoyed at becoming a father, was planning to earn more military merits to support his wife and child. However, during a battle to suppress the local tribes, he was bitten on the left arm by a venomous snake. To save his life, the army doctor hastily severed his arm. Although he survived, he could no longer wield a gun or spear and had to retire from the army in disappointment, returning home to farm.

Northern Luzon was also encouraging land reclamation, but there were no tax-free policies. Weighing the options, Yang Ye chose to head south without hesitation.

That day, Yang Ye, leaning on his crutch, limped into Luzon City. Several months later, the new city had developed a certain prosperity. After all, cities were scarce on Luzon Island, and high-ranking officials and nobles all resided here. Ordinary Luzon residents, whenever they needed to buy or sell, would mostly come here. Many thatched sheds had sprung up along the streets, housing blacksmith shops, general stores, and rice and noodle shops—all filled with shouts and the sounds of bargaining.

Yang Ye stopped in front of a blacksmith shop, his gaze falling on the hoes and sickles displayed under the shed. He squatted down, picked up a hoe, weighed it in his hand, and asked, "Shopkeeper, how much are these farm tools?"

The blacksmith shopkeeper, a dark-skinned man, was hammering iron when he heard this. He wiped the sweat from his brow and casually replied, "A hoe is fifteen coins, a sickle is ten coins."

"So cheap?" Yang Ye was taken aback. Before joining the army, he was a skilled farmer and knew the prices of farm tools in the Central Plains like the back of his hand. Such a price was unprecedentedly low.

He brought the hoe close to his eyes and examined it closely, his fingertips tracing the rough iron surface. He quickly frowned and said, "Shopkeeper, you're really heartless in your business! You dare to sell iron of this quality? Look at this lump of iron, it's not tough enough and has too many impurities. I'm afraid it will break after only a few uses."

Instead of being annoyed, the shopkeeper grinned and pointed in the direction outside the city: "Sir, you don't know this, but in this day and age, where can you find the kind of good iron you're talking about? If it weren't for the iron sand mine that was discovered at the mouth of the Luzon River a while ago, which allowed us to smelt some crude iron ourselves, you probably wouldn't even be able to find this kind of crude ironware."

Yang Ye's heart skipped a beat, then he suddenly realized. When he was discharged from the army, even the sword he had carried for many years was confiscated and reforged, which showed how severe the iron shortage was in the Eastern Song Dynasty. He sighed, said no more, took out his saved copper coins, and bought two hoes, a sickle, and a wood-chopping knife.

Just as he was about to turn and leave, a voice suddenly called out from behind, "Hero, please wait!"

Yang Ye turned around and saw that the person who came was a slightly thin man wearing a faded short jacket with a simple and honest smile on his face.

"My name is Guo Feng, and I came from Quanzhou," the man said, bowing respectfully.

"Yang Ye." He returned the greeting, looking at the other man with suspicion. "May I ask what brings you here, sir?"

Guo Feng rubbed his hands together, his tone enthusiastic: "I just overheard the conversation between the hero and the shopkeeper, and seeing the hero's burly build and calloused hands, I suppose he was a soldier? Judging from your attire, are you also heading south to make your way?"

Serving in the army was Yang Ye's proudest achievement in his life. If he hadn't joined the army, how could a man from a poor background like him have married three wives? In his homeland of the Central Plains, ordinary people would have to empty their pockets to marry just one wife, let alone three; that was a blessing only wealthy men could enjoy. Three wives managed the household, bore the children, and took turns serving him at night. The hardships they endured were truly indescribable to outsiders.

He straightened his chest and said loudly, "That's right. I just retired from the army and am preparing to go south to cultivate a few acres of barren land to support my family."

Guo Feng was overjoyed upon hearing this, his smile widening even further: "That's wonderful! Brother Yang, to be honest, I was also planning to head south to reclaim wasteland. However, the south is desolate and uninhabited, and there's no guarantee that savages won't appear. Going alone would be too dangerous. Why don't we travel together? Brother Yang, you've served on the battlefield in the army and have rich experience in killing enemies. If we encounter an attack by savages, having you lead the way will give us some peace of mind."

Yang Ye pondered for a moment upon hearing this. Although Lu Xiufu had been clearing out the indigenous tribes on the island, with such a large forest, some would inevitably slip through the net. Now that he had lost an arm, if he were to encounter a group of savages, he might not be able to escape unscathed. Traveling in groups would certainly offer more safety.

"Alright." He nodded in agreement.

Guo Feng was overjoyed and then excitedly started shouting in the streets and alleys. Before long, ten more men who also planned to go south to reclaim wasteland joined the group. Most of them were bankrupt farmers or retired soldiers, all alone, only wanting to make a name for themselves in the south.

A few days later, Yang Ye packed his bags, led three local women and his young children, and joined Guo Feng and the others, embarking on their journey south. Along the way, they crossed mountains and waded through streams, passing four nascent cities and five settlements with smoke rising from their chimneys. After traveling for a full half month, they finally arrived at the "treasure land" that Guo Feng had spoken of.

Before him stretched an endless plain, the dark soil gleaming with an oily sheen. A winding river flowed through the land, its water crystal clear. Standing on the edge of the field, Guo Feng gazed at this fertile land and couldn't help but exclaim, "God has blessed us! This land is so fertile, with abundant water—truly a wonderful place for farming! It's a pity those local savages, guarding this treasure, only know how to hunt and gather fruit; they don't know how to cultivate it. What a waste!"

Yang Ye squatted down, grabbed a handful of soil, and felt its moisture and weight. He glanced at the crude farm tools tucked into his waistband and replied in a deep voice, "They probably don't even know how to smelt iron. Without farm tools, even the best land can't grow crops."

"Brother Yang is absolutely right!" Guo Feng wholeheartedly agreed.

After his initial reflections, Yang Ye became the backbone of the land reclamation team. Drawing on his experience in the army, he directed the men to cut down the surrounding bushes, create a wide firebreak along the edge of the reclaimed land, and then set the dry vegetation ablaze.

A raging fire shot skyward, crackling and billowing thick smoke. The fire burned for a full day and night before gradually dying down, the charred ash mixed with the soil, becoming natural fertilizer. After the fire was extinguished, many dead rabbits and pheasants remained in the forest, which Yang Ye and the others collected one by one. That evening, they built a bonfire and roasted them, filling the air with a fragrant aroma.

Night fell, and the stars twinkled in the sky. The group sat around the campfire, devouring roasted meat and drinking the rice wine they had brought with them. After a day of working side by side, the initial awkwardness had long since dissipated, and they gradually opened up to each other.

Half of them were native Fujianese, while the other half had fled from the north to Fujian and then followed the imperial court south to Southeast Asia. Though their accents differed, their circumstances were largely the same. At this moment, they all set aside their past identities and shared only one common name—Song people.

As they chatted, the conversation drifted to their distant homeland in the Central Plains. Some spoke of the rice paddies of their hometown, others of the old locust tree at the village entrance, and still others wiped away tears as they reminisced about lost relatives. Although life in Luzon was peaceful, a voice always resided in their hearts, urging them to look back north, to look back at that homeland called "Great Song."

Guo Feng took a swig of rice wine, his cheeks flushed, and suddenly looked up at Yang Ye, asking, "Second Brother Yang, you were a soldier, you've seen a lot. Are those Yuan soldiers really that invincible? Is it really true that our Song army can't defeat them?"

Yang Ye remained silent for a moment upon hearing this, then slowly shook his head. He had served as a soldier in Fujian Province, but before he could even engage the Yuan army in direct combat, he retreated to Southeast Asia with the main force. He touched his empty left arm, a resolute glint in his eyes: "Whether the Yuan army was powerful or not, I don't know. But I do know that the men of my Great Song Dynasty have never lost their fighting spirit! Take Luzon Island for example, ten savages combined couldn't defeat one Song man!"

"Hahaha! Well said!" The crowd roared with laughter, their eyes gleaming with fervent fervor. "Our Great Song Dynasty is invincible!"

Under the glow of the campfire, their dark faces were filled with anticipation for the future.

From then on, the land reclamation work got on track. Everyone worked together, some plowing the fields, some carrying water, and some repairing the thatched huts, making them several times more efficient than when they worked alone. Yang Ye was even more anxious, and in order to catch up with the spring planting season, he simply had his three wives go to the fields as well.

These three indigenous women were not pampered; they spent their lives working in the mountains and forests, and were quick and efficient at farm work, no less so than men. As long as they had enough to eat, they worked diligently without complaint.

Before long, Yang Ye's family had cultivated ten acres of land. Although this land was only initially cultivated and full of gravel and grass roots, Yang Ye knew that as long as it was carefully tended for three to five years, it could become fertile land that was guaranteed against drought and flood, and a family heirloom that could be passed down to future generations.

He carefully divided the land into two parts: nine mu (approximately 0.8 acres) planted with high-yield taro, and one mu (approximately 0.16 acres) planted with rice seeds brought from the mainland. Looking at the seeds buried in the soil, Yang Ye felt much more at ease. For these farmers, a deep-rooted attachment to the land was ingrained in their genes; with land, they felt rooted.

The others also cultivated three or four acres of land. When the first green shoot broke through the soil, this barren plain finally began to resemble a "home".

Life gradually settled down. Occasionally, wild boars and wolves would wander into the reclaimed land and ravage the crops. Whenever this happened, Yang Ye would lead the others to pick up hoes and machetes and work together to kill the wild beasts. This was the happiest time for everyone, because it meant that they could have another treat and eat their fill of meat.

According to the rules, Yang Ye, as the leader, had contributed the most and should have received the most meat. However, he always gave his share to the men whose families had little food reserves. This was a habit he had developed in the army—in those days of living on the edge, if you couldn't maintain good relationships with your comrades, you wouldn't survive long.

Yang Ye's generosity and righteousness earned him the trust of everyone. Whenever a dispute arose among the people, their first thought was to seek Yang Ye's justice. Yang Ye was illiterate and knew nothing of Confucian principles; he judged solely based on his simple conscience and moral values. Surprisingly, the disputes he mediated always left both parties completely convinced of his mediation.

Spring turned to autumn, and a few months later, the reclaimed land yielded its first harvest. Despite being newly cultivated and lacking in fertility, the taro still produced plump tubers, yielding a full four hundred kilograms per mu (approximately 0.16 acres). The heavy taro piled up in the corner of the thatched hut, and the golden rice sacks filled to the brim. Seeing the house full of grain, everyone finally breathed a sigh of relief.

When people are well-fed and clothed, they think of lust. Of the twelve men in this land reclamation team, only Yang Ye and Guo Feng had wives. The other men couldn't help but feel envious as they watched Yang Ye's family's lively life.

That day, several men gathered around Yang Ye, rubbing their hands together with somewhat embarrassed smiles: "Brother Yang, are there any other Song people reclaiming land around here? Why don't you lead us around to look for them sometime?"

Yang Ye knew what they were thinking, grinned, and agreed.

Over the next few days, Yang Ye led the group to search the nearby mountains and forests. They didn't find the Song people, but they discovered a local tribe of about twenty people in a valley.

Looking at the dark-skinned, naked savages, Yang Ye's hands suddenly itched. He gripped the machete at his waist, a glint of cunning in his eyes, and lowered his voice to the others, saying, "Of these savages, at most ten out of twenty are capable of fighting. How about we sneak over tonight and wipe them out? We can capture the men as prisoners to farm the land; the women… we can distribute them as wives!"

"Great!" Upon hearing the words "divide the wives," how could everyone hold back? They rubbed their hands together, their eyes gleaming with excitement.

That night, under a dark and windy sky, Yang Ye led his men silently into the indigenous tribe. The sleeping savages, caught completely off guard, were caught off guard. Screams and cries echoed through the valley, quickly subsiding into silence.

After the battle, Yang Ye stared at the prisoners on the ground and coldly ordered, "Kill all the adult men; they're just a menace. Only spare the children and women."

They weren't the Song Dynasty's regular army, and there was no food or supplies to feed the prisoners. If they kept any capable adult savages, there was a risk of them turning against them sooner or later. On the contrary, those teenagers, though lacking in strength, could still do simple tasks like farming and carrying water. If they were raised for a few years, they would forget their status and become reliable and hardworking laborers.

As for the young indigenous women, they were naturally distributed among the men. The men who got wives were all smiles, and they couldn't wait to lead their new brides back to their huts.

As night deepened, the dim candlelight emanated from the thatched hut, mingling with laughter that echoed across the silent plain.

There are many, many more reclamation villages like Yangye's in southern Luzon. Like sparks igniting a fire, they are scattered across the vast land, greatly accelerating the development of Luzon. In the process of building new homes, each village has produced leaders like Yangye.

They rose to power by gaining the trust of the people. In the future, will this land move towards grassroots democratic co-governance, or will it degenerate into a situation of powerful clans seizing power?

No one knows the answer. Only the wind of Luzon continues to blow, carrying the scent of rice and taro to the distant sea.