Chapter 816

The fifteenth of the third month, clear and cloudless.

The Royal Field outside the south gate of Tongwan City had begun building the high platform for the ceremony and the fences for observers three days ago, but after Chen Yan took a look yesterday afternoon, he had the fences all dismantled.

Zhang Wenqian stood beside the high platform, watching the craftsmen pull out the wooden fences they had just built one by one and throw them on the ground, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Zhuguo, without fences, with one hundred thousand commoners crowded together, the scene will be impossible to control."

Chen Yan rode past him on a chestnut horse, the reins pulling lightly in his hand.

"Impossible to control is exactly what I want."

He lowered his head and looked at Zhang Wenqian.

"Fences separate more than just people; they create a sense of distance. I want to stand among them today, not above them."

Zhang Wenqian opened his mouth, then swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue.

Just past the hour of Chen, commoners from all directions began to gather toward the Royal Field.

A dense stream of people poured out of the four gates of Tongwan City, spreading south along the main road and field ridges; from a distance, it looked like four black rivers merging into the same ocean.

Chu Ci had rushed for three days with the commoners of Qinggui County to arrive, standing on the outermost periphery of the crowd, standing on tiptoe to look inside.

Chen Wu was squeezing back and forth beside him, his voice extremely low.

"My Lord, I recognize several of High Clerk Gao's men; that one selling candied haws is a squad leader of the Mounted Cavalry, that one carrying water is a deputy team leader of the Embroidered Attire Envoys, and even that beggar squatting on the ground gnawing on a steamed bun is a hidden agent of the Mingjing Si."

Chu Ci pressed his mouth down.

"Shut up; if you can see it, others can too."

At the hour of Si, the bronze gong on the high platform was struck three times.

The noise of one hundred thousand people was suppressed layer by layer by those three strikes, until only the rustling sound of the wind blowing through the wheat fields remained.

Chen Yan appeared on the stone steps of the high platform.

He wore that signature dark python-patterned cloak, the dark gold patterns flickering in the sunlight; he wore a horizontal blade at his waist, black leather boots on his feet, and walked step by step to the very top of the high platform.

One hundred thousand pairs of eyes were fixed squarely on him.

Chen Yan stood in the center of the high platform, his gaze sweeping over the dense sea of people below, but he did not speak.

He reached out and unfastened the copper button at the collar of his cloak.

Zhang Wenqian's brow jumped.

Chen Yan took the dark python-patterned cloak off his shoulders, folded it twice, and handed it to Hongye beside him.

Then he unfastened the horizontal blade at his waist.

And then the black leather boots.

One hundred thousand people watched as their Zhuguo took off, one by one, the things that represented power and majesty on the high platform, until finally, standing on the platform, there was only a young man wearing a coarse cloth short coat.

Chu Ci's mouth opened.

Chen Wu's steamed bun fell to the ground.

Chen Yan rolled his trouser legs up above his knees, revealing two sturdy calves, and walked down the stone steps of the high platform barefoot.

His soles stepped onto the mud at the edge of the Royal Field.

Cold mud squeezed out from between his toes and stuck to his ankles.

The breathing of one hundred thousand people stopped for half a breath at this moment.

Chen Yan bent down, dragged a brand-new curved-shaft plow from the field ridge, and gripped the plow handles with both hands to test the weight.

He turned his head and jerked his chin toward the high platform.

"Bring the ox over."

An old farmer leading a yellow ox was pushed to the edge of the field by two runners; the old man's legs were shaking like chaff, and the ox rope in his hand almost slipped away.

Chen Yan walked toward him and took the ox rope from his hand.

"Old man, what's this ox's temper like?"

The old man's voice was trembling out of tune.

"Zh-Zhuguo, this ox is honest, very honest."

Chen Yan patted the yellow ox's neck and tied the ox rope to the harness of the curved-shaft plow.

He gripped the plow handles with both hands and pushed off the mud with his soles, finding the point of force.

"Giddyup."

The yellow ox stepped forward, and the plowshare dug into the soft mud, turning over a deep brown furrow.

Chen Yan's body leaned forward slightly with the rhythm of the ox's steps, his two bare calves stepping one deep and one shallow in the mud, and the mud turned up by the plowshare splashed onto the front of his short coat, staining the coarse cloth with patches of dark mud.

The first furrow he plowed was straight.

One hundred thousand people watched his back and were silent for three breaths.

Then the crying started.

It wasn't the crying of one person, but spread patch by patch, starting from the refugees in the front row and diffusing backward, swaying out in circles like water ripples.

An old woman kneeling on the field ridge covered her face with her calloused hands, and wailing squeezed out from between her fingers.

"I've lived my whole life and never seen an official willing to go barefoot into the fields."

Her daughter-in-law beside her held the child, tears streaming down her face.

"The Zhuguo truly treats us like human beings."

Chu Ci stood behind the crowd, his eyes red, his lips bitten white.

Chen Wu leaned into his ear, his voice tight.

"My Lord, this move of the Zhuguo's is more effective than killing ten thousand powerful clans."

Chu Ci swallowed the sourness that welled up, his voice hoarse.

"He isn't farming; he is planting himself into everyone's heart."

Chen Yan finished plowing the first ridge and then plowed the second.

The yellow ox mooed, and he patted the ox's back, handing the plow handles to a young man beside him who was staring in a daze.

"Keep plowing; plowing this field will be enough for your whole family to eat for a year this autumn."

The young man's hands, taking the plow handles, shook like chaff, and his knees softened as he was about to kneel.

Chen Yan grabbed his shoulder.

"Stand up; those who farm don't need to kneel."

This sentence was like a red-hot iron bullet, smashing into the chests of one hundred thousand people.

"Long live the Zhuguo!"

No one knew who shouted it first, but once that sound was out, it was like detonating all the emotions that had been suppressed to the limit in the entire wilderness.

"Long live the Zhuguo!"

"Long live the Zhuguo!"

One hundred thousand voices opened at the same instant, the roar surging out from the Royal Field, shaking the flags on the distant city walls until they fluttered violently.

Chen Yan stood in the field, barefoot, his short coat covered in mud, a thin layer of sweat on his face.

He did not look up at the cheering crowd.

He was looking at the furrow he had just plowed at his feet.

The furrow was deep and straight, and the turned-up mud emitted a moist, living scent.

At this very moment when the roar was most turbulent, in the mud less than ten steps away, three old farmers kneeling on the ground holding baskets of seeds slowly reached their fingers into the bottom of the baskets.

Their fingertips touched the cold iron mechanism beneath the oil paper wrapping.

Gao Jiong stood on the side of the crowd, his gaze sweeping rapidly over every face in the Royal Field.

When his gaze swept over those three old farmers, it paused for less than half a breath.

Those three people's kneeling posture was too steady.

Real old farmers kneeling in the mud would have their knees tilt to the sides, their center of gravity unstable, because people who had farmed their whole lives didn't have good knees.

But these three people's kneeling posture was as if they were nailed into the ground, their center of gravity extremely low, their spines taut like a bow.

Gao Jiong's pupils contracted, and his voice exploded from the bottom of his throat.

"Guards!"