I'll steal Gao Qiu's life and lead the Song Dynasty to prosperity.

Chapter 61 Jiachagabu (Please comment and vote!)

(This section is about three updates of 10,000 words each.)

The two fat sheep were delivered to Wang Shan's army camp at the time of evening meal.

When the person delivering the sheep brought over two fat sheep and conveyed Zhao Mingcheng's message to "reward the soldiers guarding the border,"

Wang Shan was stunned for a long time.

He stared at the two bleating sheep, his expression complex.

He fought for many years, receiving rewards and gratifications along the way.

But this was the first time I had ever received such a "benefiting" sharing from a civil servant, one with whom I had recently been at loggerheads.

"This scholar—he is quite thorough in his work."

These two sheep were both a gesture of goodwill and a reminder of the predicament Wang Shanyi's army was in, something Zhao Mingcheng had noticed; the soldiers would share in the spoils of the trade; and he would also remember the credit for driving away the scouts.

The lingering resentment in Wang Shan's heart caused by yesterday's conflict and this morning's questioning eased considerably in front of this real meat-filled noodle dish, followed by a complex sense of guilt.

Previously, I only thought of him as someone who talked nonsense and was misguided, and that my womanly compassion was hindering my revenge.

But they quickly obtained grain, facilitated the transaction, and even shared the profits with the army.

Although their methods differed from his own, their aim seemed genuinely to stabilize the situation in Qing Tang.

As a general, he was constrained by food supplies, took his anger out on others, and even contemplated slaughter—in comparison, he seemed somewhat short-tempered and reckless.

"What are you all standing there for?" Wang Shan shouted at his personal guards, his voice no longer as fierce as before. "Take it away and give it to the cooks! Add plenty of water, and break the bones to make soup! Slice the meat thinly, and don't waste the sheep's blood or offal; make sure to divide it into several pots! Tell the brothers that this sheep was a reward from Governor Zhao, who was grateful for our hard work guarding the border, and he traded it with the Baicao tribe for it!"

"Yes, Commander!"

Upon hearing this, the soldiers' faces lit up with joy, and they happily carried the sheep away.

That evening, the long-lost aroma of meat filled several of Wang Shan's main camps.

The large pot was bubbling with milky white mutton soup, although there wasn't much meat or offal in each soldier's bowl.

But after that sip of piping hot and delicious soup, the warmth seemed to seep into the frozen bones, and it also slightly soothed the heart that had been chilled by hunger and resentment for many days.

Wang Shan himself held a bowl of mutton soup, squatted by the fire, and slowly drank it while eating some coarse grain cakes.

A number of junior and middle-ranking officers and soldiers sat around him, each burying their heads in their soup and making satisfied slurping sounds.

"Damn, it's been so long since I've had any meat. This soup is really delicious!" A constable wiped his mouth and sighed.

"Yes, I heard it was all thanks to that Zhao Fuyu—" another team member chimed in, glancing cautiously at Wang Shan halfway through his sentence.

Wang Shan didn't glare as usual; he just silently chewed his biscuit.

After a long while, he put down his bowl, glanced at everyone, and spoke in a muffled but clear voice.

"Zhao Fuyu is a civil official from the capital. He is young, but he is methodical in his work and considerate of the hardships of our soldiers. This sheep is proof of that."

From now on, whatever he orders us to do, as long as it's for the good of Shanzhou, and so that the brothers have enough to eat, we—we should cooperate more. Don't let people think that we, the Western Army, are all brutes who only care about fighting and don't listen to reason.”

Upon hearing this, the officers were somewhat surprised, exchanged glances, and then nodded in agreement.

Wang Shan's words were tantamount to formally stating his position.

The soldiers below were unaware of what was going on, but seeing that their superior seemed to approve of the "Zhao Fuyu" who brought the mutton, their dissatisfaction with the "obstruction of revenge" a few days ago quietly melted away in this bowl of hot soup and the superior's words.

After all, an official who can provide everyone with hot soup and mutton can't be too bad, no matter how bad he is.

When Tong Guan received the two sheep and Zhao Mingcheng's instructions, he was in his temporary lodging, which was decorated quite comfortably and warmly, slowly sipping hot tea by the charcoal fire.

After hearing the report, a smile appeared on his face.

"Oh? Lord Zhao is so thoughtful." He put down his teacup and said to the guard who brought the sheep with a kind smile, "Go back and thank Lord Zhao for me. Tell him that I appreciate his kindness and will certainly not fail in my duty."

After the guards left, Tong Guan gave instructions to the young eunuch standing to the side.

"Go, hand the sheep over to the cooks down there, and make sure they do a good job. The broth will be shared among our own people and those scouts who helped out. Also,"

Tong Guan took out a small brocade pouch from his sleeve, poured out some loose silver, about two or three taels, and said, "Give this silver to the people who just delivered the sheep, and tell them that our family is treating them to wine. Lord Zhao is considerate of us, so we can't be ignorant of the rules."

The young eunuch accepted the silver, bowed, and withdrew.

Tong Guan picked up his teacup again, gazing at the leaping charcoal fire, his eyes gleaming.

This young pacification envoy knew how to maintain people's hearts, offering both tangible benefits and dignity.

Working for someone like that, as long as you don't cross the line, seems to offer a promising future and obvious benefits.

Tong Guan's desire to pledge allegiance to Zhao Mingcheng deepened even further.

The first attempt at purchasing grain was successful, which was a good start.

In the following days, as agreed beforehand, the messenger sent by Xia Zheng maintained contact with Zaxi Duoji, the leader of the Baicao tribe.

The two parties would always make a transaction every one or two days.

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The location was changed each time, under the cover of Tong Guan's undercover investigation and Wang Shan's outer perimeter security, but it remained within the activity area of ​​the Baicao tribe as much as possible without repetition.

Sometimes it's in a sheltered mountain valley, sometimes it's on a dried-up riverbed.

The scale of transactions between the two parties gradually expanded.

From the initial five sheep, to more than a dozen sheep, and then to a few yaks, and even occasionally some milk curds and dried meat that can be stored for a long time, as well as barley, etc.

The goods that the Tibetan tribes exchanged for gradually increased from salt, tea, and cloth to iron pots and needles and thread.

Some of these items were brought by Liu Zhongwu, while others were obtained by Tong Guan through a secret channel.

For each transaction, Zhao Mingcheng insisted on being present in person, always accompanied only by Liu Zhongwu and a small number of guards, maintaining his composure and sincerity.

The process of brewing tea, inspecting goods, negotiating prices, and making the transaction is skillful and efficient.

The people of the Baicao tribe went from being apprehensive at the beginning to becoming calm and composed later, and even began to communicate with the Song army guards using simple gestures and words.

Safe, trustworthy, and efficient.

These are the three ironclad rules that Zhao Mingcheng has always adhered to.

Tong Guan's hidden sentries and Wang Shan's vigilant cavalry acted like two invisible nets, ensuring that every transaction was conducted in an absolutely controlled environment, and Xi Sheluo Sa's scouts dared not approach easily.

The practice of on-site delivery and never delaying payment has made the reputation of "Song people keeping their word" quietly spread among the Baicao tribe and even more distant Tibetan tribes.

As the trading volume increased, the number of cattle and sheep received in return also increased.

How to allocate these resources became a new problem.

Using them all as military rations is certainly an option, but Zhao Mingcheng has a better idea.

That day, in the old house, Zhao Mingcheng spoke to Wang Shan, Liu Zhongwu, and Tong Guan.

"Gentlemen, we have recently acquired more and more livestock. If only the soldiers who participated in the guarding of the trade enjoy them, after a while, the soldiers from other camps will complain."

What I mean is that, thereafter, the soldiers stationed at each transaction can be drawn from different battalions under General Wang, General Liu, and Tong Gongfeng in rotation.

First, it would allow them to witness firsthand how the livestock trade was conducted. Second, the livestock obtained in the trade would be used to reward the brothers who participated in the guard duty that day, so that they could also share in the profits and have some meat.

With this rotation system, over time, each battalion and team will become familiar with the trading process, and everyone will be able to have some meat. What do you three think?

Upon hearing this, both Wang Shan and Liu Zhongwu were taken aback, and then their eyes showed approval.

This method is fair and can deliver tangible benefits quickly, thus winning over the hearts and minds of the troops.

Wang Shan, in particular, knew that one of the root causes of his soldiers' resentment was injustice, and Zhao Mingcheng's idea of ​​"rotating profit sharing" was exactly what he needed.

"Your Excellency's considerations are thorough, and I agree," Liu Zhongwu was the first to express his opinion.

Wang Shan nodded and said, "What you say makes sense, sir. I second that opinion."

Tong Guan smiled and said, "Since you are so considerate of your subordinates, my scouts and runners will be grateful and work even harder."

The rotation rules were thus smoothly established.

Initially, only a small number of soldiers who participated in the first escort and guard duty tasted the benefits, which aroused the envy of others.

Soon, with the rotation system in place, whenever a new escort mission was assigned, the selected soldiers were all in high spirits and extremely serious.

After returning from the trade, these soldiers would always receive some mutton, offal, or a bowl of meat soup with flatbread.

That night, the camp was filled with the long-lost aroma of meat and laughter.

The other soldiers who were unable to go on missions felt a mixture of envy and anticipation.

Because they knew that, according to the rules, it would be their turn soon.

Zhao Fuyu said that he wanted everyone to "have access to meat," and he did indeed achieve that.

As a result, there were fewer complaints during training and less slackness during duty, and even the discussion about Zhao Mingcheng quietly changed direction.

Zhao Mingcheng's character evolved from "a young official in the capital who obstructed revenge" to "a capable official who brought mutton" and finally to "Zhao Fuyu, who had his brothers in his heart."

A bowl of hearty meat soup is more comforting to the stomach and soothing to the mind than any grand philosophy.

The changes in the Baicao tribe are equally evident.

Tashi Dorje, this "auspicious Vajra," now stands a little straighter.

Because of trade with the Song people, the tribe had plenty of salt for seasoning, tea to boil oily dairy products, and women and children wore new cotton clothes.

Although they remained fearful of the Song army and uneasy about the threat posed by Xisheluosa.

But his impression of the young Song official, who personally came to each transaction, wearing a scarlet official robe and a fox fur coat, spoke kindly, and made transactions readily, grew better day by day.

Occasionally, when intermarrying or exchanging goods with other small tribes, the people of the Baicao tribe would not be able to help but talk about these things with other tribes.

"That high-ranking Song official in the red robe is named Zhao—Lord Zhao. He keeps his word and offers fair prices."

"They weren't many, but they were formidable. The men from Xisherosa tried to cause trouble, but one was shot dead, and the rest ran away in fear!"

"The Song people came only to exchange goods; they did nothing else. They just exchanged the goods and left."

One pass ten, ten pass a hundred.

In the Hehuang region, a land where news travels slowly yet is often slow to spread, the story of the "Red-Robed Song Official's Fair Trade" spread.

Some small tribes, also struggling to survive and suffering from war and plunder, began to take notice.

These people may not believe in the Song army.

But seeing is believing, and the ever-improving lives of the Baicao tribe cannot be faked.

Salt and tea were necessities for survival, while cloth and iron pots were rare luxuries.

They had surplus cattle, sheep, barley, dairy products, and even processed hides, all of which they could use for trade.

Rather than risking your life by dealing with smugglers of unknown origin or being forcibly plundered by the people of Xisheluosa, why not try doing business with this Song official who keeps his word?

A few days later, a small tribe that had a marriage relationship with the Baicao tribe arrived, called the "Grey Tent Tribe".

Through the Baicao tribe's matchmaking, two people were tentatively sent to the agreed-upon new trading point with a few sheep and some hides.

They were even more timid than the people of the Baicao tribe, and dared not approach from a great distance.

The transaction process remained the same: Xiao Zheng would bring people to make contact, while Zhao Mingcheng would display the goods from a distance.

When the people of the Gray Tent tribe completed the transaction with trepidation, exchanging five sheep and a few hides for a small bag of salt and a few bricks of tea, the fear on their faces turned into unbelievable joy. Holding the goods, they spurred their horses and galloped away without looking back, fearing that the Song people might change their minds.

Once there's a second one, there'll be a third, a fourth—

The Blackwater tribe traded five yaks for a large quantity of cloth and salt; the herders of Eagle's Beak Cliff brought out their accumulated furs and cordyceps.

Even a small tribe that had been forced to provide horses to Xisheluosa, after receiving the assurance that "past transgressions will not be investigated and transactions will proceed as usual," tremblingly brought two horses in exchange.

The trading volume remains limited, a drop in the ocean compared to the massive military expenditures.

But this trickle is becoming stable and shows signs of converging into a creek.

Most importantly, a new kind of relationship, different from the clash of swords and the plundering and being plundered, is growing fragilely yet extremely tenaciously on this land soaked in blood and fire.

On this day, Zhao Mingcheng once again led his team out of the city to trade with a small tribe called "Spring Eye".

This time the scale was slightly larger, and they received more than twenty sheep, several bushels of barley, and some cheese in return.

The transaction is complete, and we are preparing to return.

The elderly tribal chief, who had always hidden behind his people and only dared to speak through an interpreter, suddenly took a few shaky steps forward with the help of his people.

He bowed and touched his chest with the most solemn Tibetan etiquette towards Zhao Mingcheng, who was sitting upright on his horse.

Then he raised his head and spoke laboriously in broken Chinese and Tibetan syllables.

"Gyaltsabha—thank you—fairness—good person—"

Xia Zheng quickly explained this to Zhao Mingcheng.

"Lord Zhao, what he meant by 'Jiachagabu' is—a red-robed official who keeps his word, or a trustworthy official in red robes. He's thanking you, saying you're a fair and good person."

Zhao Mingcheng was slightly taken aback after hearing this.

The other members of the Quanyan tribe, including those from the Baicao and Huizhang tribes who had previously traded with them and who had come to assist in the liaison, all bowed to Zhao Mingcheng, repeating "Jiachagabu" in Tibetan, their eyes filled with sincere gratitude and respect.

Red official robes, honest transactions.

These two most obvious characteristics of Zhao Mingcheng led these simple and hard-working Tibetan herdsmen to give him this simple yet pleasant nickname—Jiachagabu.

Looking at the Tibetan herdsmen before him, their faces dark and their clothes ragged, yet their eyes gleaming with the light of having completed a fair trade, Zhao Mingcheng felt a complex mix of emotions.

There was relief, there was heaviness, but also a deeper determination.

Then, Zhao Mingcheng slowly raised his hand and solemnly cupped his hands towards the herdsmen and towards the tribes that were silently watching from afar.

Then, they turned their horses around and, under the protection of Liu Zhongwu and others, returned towards Shanzhou City.

Behind him, the Tibetan herdsmen remained standing, watching Zhao Mingcheng's receding figure for a long time, muttering to themselves.

"Gyachagabu————"

The north wind in the wilderness remains fierce.

But the nickname "Jiachagabu" spread among the herders as trade progressed and horses returned to their pastures.

On the way back to the city, Liu Zhongwu chuckled softly.

"My lord, you now have a title in the tribe. Gyaltsabha." That title sounds quite prestigious.

Zhao Mingcheng looked at the faint outline of Qing Tang City in the distance, shook his head and smiled.

"Empty fame is useless. What the barbarians want is not a prestigious official position, but a fair system that allows them to live in peace. We still have a long way to go."

The procession moved forward in silence, with only the sound of horses' hooves.

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