16. Oh my, this place...

Page (1/3)

A few wisps of smoke curled here and there, winding along the verdant river—a picturesque scene indeed, yet the place he had been assigned to felt somewhat... shabby? Having experienced a bustling metropolis like Yangzhou, returning to this rustic, countryside setting was quite the adjustment.

Newping had just been separated from Poyang County, with a population of barely 3,200. In the vast expanse of China, it was almost inconspicuous—3,200 people was roughly the size of Xia Lin’s old primary school back in the day.

Though he was called the township head, his responsibilities were truly no more than those of a school principal.

When he arrived at the township government office, he nearly laughed aloud. The office was smaller than a third of the size of the little garden belonging to the young prince of Yangzhou. Only six people worked here: four constables, one accountant, and one jailer. The office was divided into four sections, with the central hall handling civil disputes, as township authorities had no jurisdiction over criminal cases such as murder, robbery, or assault—all those had to be escalated to the county government. Thus, the highest authority here was to deal with petty theft and property disputes.

The term “property disputes” sounded serious, but in reality, it meant things like the Li family taking a chicken from the Zhao family, or the Wang family skimping on a sweet potato from the Chen family—trivial matters of little consequence.

To the left of the office was the township head’s resting area: three large tiled rooms and, surprisingly, a pigpen. Xia Lin had never seen such an arrangement before, but on reflection, it was quite practical; with a little cleaning, the pigpen could be made livable for Old Zhang.

On the right side were the office’s functional areas: a cell doubling as a wood storage, the office canteen, and an outhouse.

“This place is definitely run-down,” Xia Lin said, hoisting his bag and looking up at the quaint office sign. “Who would have thought it would one day become the only fifth-rank county government in the entire country?”

“What nonsense are you spouting? Are you suffering from culture shock?” Old Zhang pointed at the sign. “Fifth-rank county government? You’re just a minor official of the ninth rank, lacking even a proper official robe, let alone a fifth-rank office.”

“Alright then, starting today you sleep in the pigpen.”

Watching the two bicker, Chun Tao smiled, but when she looked at this shabby office, her heart grew heavy. She still harbored resentment toward the young prince, but as servant and master were distinct roles, she could only endure in silence. The disparity in treatment was vast, and she couldn't help but feel sorrowful.

The only consolation was that the young master was interesting and not lecherous. Though Chun Tao understood the implication of being given away by the young prince, she still did not want others to touch her—especially ordinary people. After all, having spent time in a wealthy household, her perspective had been raised; she was used to dealing with governors and magistrates, so someone like Xia Lin seemed no different from a street vendor selling pork.

Inside the township office, no one else was present. Xia Lin began moving his belongings alone. Both he and Old Zhang were content with poverty; despite the hardships of moving, they laughed and joked along the way, adding a touch of joy to this otherwise bleak exile.

“Up ahead, I saw a river, probably teeming with fish. Once we settle in, I’ll show the local farm women what it means to be the Fishing Sage of the Luo River,” Old Zhang said, tossing his bundle onto the floor.

“Fishing Sage of the Luo River? Where do you get these fancy titles?” Xia Lin retorted, throwing his own bag down by his feet. “Go cook, I’m starving.”

“Don’t you have your personal maid? Why do you need me to cook?”

Xia Lin said nothing, merely sat down and took a long sip from his water gourd. After three months on the road, it was now midsummer in July. Though the place had mountains and water, the heat was still oppressive; any movement brought a sweat-soaked body.

“I checked on those constables—they’re all part-timers. In summer, they go to the county for work. The accountant went to Raozhou to help his son take care of his grandson, and the jailer broke his leg last month while herding cattle. He’s home recuperating.”

“Ha…”

Xia Lin stretched his arms. “Let’s go swimming!”

Page (2/3)

“Let’s go!” Old Zhang tossed his towel over his shoulder. “The Swimming God of the Luo River rides again!”

After quickly making the bed, the two headed to the river. The little river wasn’t deep and was clear to the bottom. They splashed about like fish in the water, but without warming up, Old Zhang soon cramped and nearly lost his life on the Gan-Po land.

“You useless!” Xia Lin scolded him for an hour after pulling him from the water. Night had fallen outside, and Old Zhang, feeling embarrassed, didn’t retort. Instead, he busied himself at the stove, cooking and frying.

“Sigh, Daosheng, since we came here, hasn’t Chun Tao even stepped outside?”

“Yes, why?”

Old Zhang snorted. “A servant girl strutting around like a queen—she really doesn’t know her place.”

“Don’t be so harsh. If it were you, you might be worse off. Who does she usually serve? What’s her standard of living? And look at what we have now. If you expect her to serve us lowly sorts in these conditions, of course she’d be unhappy. And tell me, have you ever seen a new official’s first fire lit on the stove?”

Xia Lin leaned back, helpless. “People strive upward, water flows downward. Anyone down here would be like this. Don’t blame her.”

At that moment, Chun Tao was at the door, intending to put away the remaining dried meat and salted fish from the journey in the kitchen. She overheard their conversation and couldn’t hold back her tears. But Xia Lin’s words clarified things for her. She realized she was but a servant girl, and whoever the young prince had given her to was fate.

Thus passed the first day of the new official’s tenure. They accomplished nothing but cooked a meal and pulled the Swimming God of the Luo River from the water.

The next day, Xia Lin rose early and took Old Zhang on a tour of the township. With a population of 3,100 across 1,500 households, over 500 were empty. Upon inquiry, they learned many had gone to work elsewhere—some to Jiangzhou, others to Huizhou—leaving mostly the elderly, sick, and weak behind. Able-bodied adults were scarce.

Though talkative, Xia Lin was hardworking. He went door to door counting registered residents from dawn to dusk, simultaneously surveying the terrain.

He noted which mountains were suitable for cultivation, which fields for farming, meticulously recording every detail. Cross-referencing with urban planning maps on his phone, he began sketching a layout.

When hungry, they rested in the shade of the valley to eat cakes; when thirsty, they politely asked local villagers for water.

“What’s your plan?” Old Zhang asked.

“To make money,” Xia Lin said, pointing to the scattered homes below from a hilltop. “Since we’re here, we have to prove ourselves. Young master, you don’t want to be looked down on forever, do you?”

Old Zhang crossed his arms, gazing at the blue sky and green trees. “Easier said than done.”

“Have faith. You probably don’t realize what kind of feng shui treasure this land is.”

Newping Township covered a fifty-mile radius, just as the map showed, encompassing Fuliang County and Jingdezhen City, bordering Qimen. While most rivers flowed east, here the river ran westward, originating from Qimen and flowing downstream to Poyang. The gentle current and moderate channel made it ideal for medium and small vessels.

Shipping downstream could carry locally produced porcelain and green tea, along with Qimen’s red tea upstream, all the way to the Yangtze and beyond. Even just porcelain alone, if fortune smiled, could boost the Great Wei’s GDP by at least 30% in three years.

Page (3/3)

So Xia Lin was truly unafraid of the place’s simplicity. Simple, huh? Never underestimate a young man’s poverty! In three years’ time, he would make those short-sighted fools drop their jaws.

Under the scorching sun, they labored for about half a month. Xia Lin’s complexion darkened by three shades, and Old Zhang lost significant weight. Yet, with their four limbs, they had thoroughly explored every inch of Newping.

Old Zhang’s drawing skills were incredible. After Xia Lin taught him to make more detailed maps, he even drew contour lines for every mountain.

“We’ll build two rows of workshops along the river, add a dock here. First, improve living standards for locals, then gradually attract outsiders to invest.”

“What about us?”

“Look here, near Gaoling Village,” Xia Lin pointed on the map. “This place produces the rarest clay in the world, capable of making the finest porcelain.”

“How do you know? Your magic trinket?”

“Hey, why so many questions? I just know. This is a feng shui treasure. No joke.”

“Alright, I’m already on this sinking ship.”

As they spoke, a knock came at the door. Opening it, Chun Tao stood there holding two bowls of noodles. Though simple plain noodles, it was the first meal she had prepared for Xia Lin since their arrival.

“Master... dinner is ready.”

Her voice was low, yet she called him “Master.” Though not the first time, it was the first without resentment.

Xia Lin didn’t know when or how she came to this acceptance, but at least it was better than her being trapped in bitterness. Smiling, he said, “Thank you, Sister Chun Tao. Don’t call me Master anymore—just call me Daosheng, like Old Zhang.”

Chun Tao nodded slightly and returned to her room. Xia Lin resumed planning with Old Zhang.

“Old Zhang, tomorrow we’ll go to the county office for funds,” Xia Lin rubbed his nose. “I’ve calculated that from mining to kiln operation, we’ll need about 1,700 taels. We have to find a way to get that money back.”

“You’re dreaming... getting funds isn’t that easy.”

“Let’s just try. Tomorrow we’ll...” Xia Lin’s words faltered, then muttered, “Newping Township... has no superior county office. It reports directly to the prefecture government. We have to go to Hongdu Prefecture.”

Page (3/3)