Chapter 352: Bending Low into the Countryside

After crossing north, the imperial procession turned northeast, following the southern section of the Yongji Canal toward Daming Prefecture where Yedu lay, until entering its borders and stopping at Neihuang County.

Neihuang sat at the border of Ji and Yan provinces, southwest of Daming Prefecture; looking at a map, it seemed somewhat suspended outside. Its historical trajectory had a rather "disaster-prone" character—repeatedly abolished and reestablished, its jurisdiction shifting between Wei and Xiang prefectures, all because its position was not so "clear."

But throughout, Neihuang had always been fertile land—entirely flat plains with developed agriculture.

In the wars of recent years, Neihuang had suffered tremendous destruction in every respect. After Du Chongwei was pacified, Gao Xingzhou received the court's orders to rebuild order, and in the nearly two years since Liu Chengyou ascended the throne, things had gradually recovered—refugees returned home, bandits were eradicated.

But these two years, disasters had struck Hebei without cease, spreading widely, and Neihuang could not escape their influence. Though Liu Chengyou had issued policies of tax remission, by the time they reached the localities and the common folk at the grassroots, it was only a drop in the bucket—even with Gao Xingzhou as the military and civil authority of the region.

Learning that the imperial procession was passing through, Neihuang's County Magistrate and subordinate officials had long since made preparations for receiving the emperor. Liu Chengyou still remembered that during last year's western tour to Luoyang, along the entire route, most local officials and officers had gone about their own business, not taking him, the Emperor, seriously at all—forcing Liu Chengyou to strike hard and deal with a large batch of officials. Compared to that, this time was the greatest difference: no matter how weak the current court's control over the localities, its authority was clearly strengthening.

Leaving the accompanying chancellor Yang Bin to deal with Neihuang's local officials, Liu Chengyou separated from the main column and, under the armed escort of Gao Huaide and Zhao Yanjin, headed straight into the Neihuang countryside.

"If Your Majesty wishes to inquire into the people's livelihood, summoning some farmers for questioning would suffice—why must you go in person? This is, after all, a military commandery, not the imperial domain. Your Majesty bears the weight of the realm and the state; to thus separate from the main army, with thin imperial guard protection, is still too dangerous. Should there be wicked men with treacherous designs..." Urging his horse close beside Liu Chengyou, Zhao Yanjin could not help but speak up in remonstrance.

The escort accompanying him numbered only three hundred riders. Though well-equipped and formidable in combat power, by numbers alone, it was indeed thin.

Before Liu Chengyou could respond, Gao Huaide beside him heard this and his face immediately showed displeasure. In the territory of Weibo, even if there were men of treacherous intent who could gather troops and attack, the only one with the ability and strength to threaten Liu Chengyou's safety was Gao Xingzhou, stationed at Yedu.

Once Gao Huaide thought of this, Zhao Yanjin's words—perhaps spoken without malice—struck him as rather grating.

Even though they normally had a good relationship, Gao Huaide's tone was especially harsh, his expression stern, as he addressed Zhao Yanjin: "Within the king's domain, if any traitor dares to commit treason and rebellion, I will fight to the death to protect His Majesty!"

Gao Huaide's anger left Zhao Yanjin momentarily bewildered, not understanding the cause. Liu Chengyou noticed his brother-in-law's cold face, his gaze flickering; with his increasingly perceptive mind, a single turn of thought and he understood.

"Since I ascended the throne, I have devoted myself to bringing peace to the realm—lenient punishments, simplified governance, suppressing bandits, subduing violence and quelling rebellion. I consider that toward the people of Hebei, though my grace has not been deep, I have still bestowed much virtue. If there are still those who harbor disloyal hearts and raise rebellion, then either they are beyond redemption, or my own deeds remain lacking—I must reflect and seek to improve..." Liu Chengyou launched into his usual high-sounding rhetoric.

The words immediately drew flattery and admiration from Gao and Zhao, though judging by their expressions, they were not particularly moved. But the young Lady Zhe, attending at his side, gazing at Liu Chengyou's confident profile, her eyes curved slightly as she smiled softly: "His Majesty's breadth of mind is a blessing to the realm."

Liu Chengyou glanced at his brother-in-law, then pointed at the imperial army surrounding them in tight defensive formation, his face full of ease as he deliberately raised his voice: "The Palace Army is drawn from the elite of the imperial army; the Tieqi Army is the backbone of the Palace Command; and the troops escorting me are the finest warriors of the Tieqi Army. In my eyes, no elite force in the realm surpasses this—one can match five. With such fierce warriors protecting me and such fine generals accompanying me, can they not keep me safe?"

This time, the officers and soldiers nearby who heard his words instinctively straightened their backs. Liu Chengyou never missed any opportunity to display his bearing and win people's hearts. And it came more smoothly, more naturally each time—unlike the early days, when he would occasionally flush with embarrassment and reflect on whether his words had been inappropriate.

Now, that was no longer necessary. First, his skill had gradually been honed to a refined level; second, the enhancement of his status and the elevation of his authority were enough to make others overlook minor details.

On the outskirts of Neihuang, he randomly selected a village. Large tracts of farmland spread flat across the fields, clearly having been re-surveyed and redistributed by the authorities. In winter, the fields looked desolate, the surface seeming to hold a light frost; the untended soil was a mess, and along the field ridges here and there remained a few nearly rotted stalks.

The riders approached at a light gallop, shattering the village's tranquility. Amid the fearful gazes of the villagers, Gao Huaide arranged for men to hold every road and intersection, strictly forbidding entry or exit, and personally led men to surround a farmhouse on the periphery, inviting out the master, inspecting inside and out, and only after confirming there was nothing unusual did Liu Chengyou arrive at a leisurely pace.

For the sake of safety, disturbing the people was unavoidable.

Within the earthen walls built of yellow loam stood four or five bamboo-and-wood rooms. Beside the wicker fence grew several rows of cabbages; in the long chicken coop, two or three scrawny hens clucked softly; the watchdog tied in the corner of the yard barked ceaselessly at the imperial guards intruding upon the farm, only falling silent with a whimper under the soothing of a young farm girl.

This was a very ordinary Hebei farm family—eight people, three generations all present. The master was an old man whose age was hard to tell, thin of frame, with rough skin.

The last time Liu Chengyou had gone this deep into the countryside to inquire into the people's condition was back in the days at Hengzhou.

As Liu Chengyou stepped into the farmyard, the whole family knelt with heads bowed, huddled together, their trembling bodies betraying utter terror, not daring to speak a word.

Casually setting out two folding stools and sitting down with the young Lady Zhe, Liu Chengyou looked at the shabbily dressed farm family and extended his hand: "Rise!"

The old farmer, hearing this, looked utterly bewildered, not knowing what to do.

Zhang Dejun noticed and immediately spoke, reminding him with some courtesy: "His Majesty bids you stand and answer."

They exchanged glances but still dared not move. Seeing this, Liu Chengyou gave a signal, and Zhang Dejun personally stepped forward to help them up. The old farmer's movements showed extreme unease; even without much learning, he could sense the nobility radiating from the man and woman seated before him, and with so many "fierce" soldiers guarding them, his legs were trembling, not daring to raise his head.

"Elder, how old are you?" Liu Chengyou asked in a gentle tone.

The old farmer stammered, and only after Zhang Dejun's interpretation did he understand that the noble before him was asking his age.

Only then did he give a very clear answer: he did not know his own age, nor did he know what year he was born.

Liu Chengyou then asked whether he was a local, and he said he had migrated from Xiangzhou.

In direct conversation, Liu Chengyou could not shed his bookish manner of speech, and the old farmer spoke in a thick local dialect—communication was indeed rather laborious. But stumbling along, he still managed to learn the old farmer's family situation clearly.

He wasn't originally from Xiangzhou either; he didn't know exactly how many years ago he had fled from Hedong to Tangyin in Xiangzhou. From his vague description, Liu Chengyou guessed it was probably during Shi Jingtang's uprising.

He had four sons. The eldest had joined the army in his early years and had since vanished without a trace—probably dead somewhere, in some battle. The second had been seized as a conscript, was fortunate to survive, and returned lame, marrying a farm woman. The third had been married for several years and was currently serving as a soldier. The youngest had just grown up and worked the land at home, very diligent; with the times gradually stabilizing, he was saving grain and money to find a wife.

There were two grandsons and one granddaughter, all still young, but already able to help with farm work.

When the Khitan army passed through Xiangzhou during its northward withdrawal, they burned and killed, and the whole family fled into the mountains. After the Great Han was established, the court recruited refugees, and they drifted with the tide to Neihuang.

The authorities allocated fifty mu of land, and they settled there, additionally reclaiming several dozen mu of wasteland themselves. Due to disasters, the harvests were not good. Taxes were not light either; most of the meager produce from the fields was levied by the authorities, and after careful budgeting, the remaining grain was barely enough to get through winter—if they also had to prepare for winter sowing and spring planting, it would be even harder...

This, then, was one family—living in poverty, plain and unlettered folk through and through.