Chapter 355: Liangxiang Camp

The original intention of the system was good, but given enough time, people naturally find loopholes.

In its early stage, it could rely on clear design to establish a solid military structure;

But after more than a hundred years, now in the Jing Sheng era, its inability to resist land grabs and the endemic corruption of power‑rent‑seeking has caused it to collapse completely.

According to Jia Jing, the chief and fundamental cause of the Guard Post system's collapse is the seizure of the military farms.

The military farm lands of Shuntian Prefecture have now become "fat meat" in the eyes of the powerful and officers in Shenjing, and officers' encroachment on the farms is extremely common.

Worse, imperial relatives and high‑ranking ministers openly partake in the division, forcibly taking large tracts as their own estates, and military households have become tenant families of various martial families.

Military households were the cornerstone of the Guard Post system, but with farms seized and heavy labor imposed, their living space has been completely squeezed.

Officers treat military households as slaves, embezzling grain rations and arbitrarily exploiting them.

The military households not only have to work for the officers who have seized their fields, but also pay heavy rents.

After a year of struggling for their lives, many can barely make ends meet, leading to numerous tragic cases of "selling wives and children."

By the Jing Sheng years, according to the Ministry of War records, the average desertion rate of Guard Posts nationwide has risen to 70‑80%, and the Guard Post system now exists only in name.

After surveying the farming situation, Jia Jing led the group on horseback to Liangxiang Camp, the destination he chose to visit today!

The stockade walls of Liangxiang Camp are rammed earth; after many years, several sections have collapsed halfway, and the gaps are haphazardly blocked with thorns and branches.

The gate opening is ajar, the door panel hanging askew on one side; the painted characters "Xingzhou Zhongtun Guard" have peeled off, leaving only faint engravings.

Jia Jing dismounted in front of the gate, tossed the reins to his personal guard, straightened his attire, and entered.

The village is unnaturally quiet; no chickens crow, no dogs bark.

Only occasional, scattered cries of children drift from a broken house, indicating a few living people remain in the settlement.

The road is earthen, riddled with pits; last night's drizzle left standing water that hasn't fully dried, mixing with rotted grass and animal dung, emitting a sour, foul smell.

Jia Huan covered his nose, his face twisted, and muttered softly to Jia Cong and Jia Lan:

"I'm wearing the new shoes that Third Sister made for me today; if we get scolded when we go back, you'll have to explain for me."

Jia Cong gave him a cool glance, said nothing, but his eyes plainly read "shut up."

Jia Lan walked at the rear, head down, watching the crushed straw‑shoe prints and the surrounding ruin, his expression somewhat complicated.

The group stopped before a half‑collapsed mud‑brick house.

The house's doorframe is warped, the door panel missing, blocked by a tattered cloth curtain.

The curtain is covered entirely with patches upon patches, its original color indiscernible.

From behind the curtain came a hoarse voice of an old man and a few sounds of children playing.

Xuanwu gave Jia Jing a look, lifted the curtain. A wave of mildew mixed with various foul odors hit them.

The interior was dim, only a sliver of light leaking through the doorway.

Half the stove had collapsed; a pot of wild vegetables boiled, the broth clear enough to reflect a silhouette.

In a corner, a heap of rotten cotton stuffing held an old woman, thin as a dry firewood log.

Her skin clung to her bones, cheekbones jutting high, eye sockets sunken, her cloudy eyes fixed on the doorway, lacking any spark.

Three children surrounded her—two boys and a girl; the older girl was only nine or ten, the youngest still cradled in her arms.

All three were skinny and filthy, arms as thin as straw, bellies swollen, hair dull yellow, caked with mud.

The youngest was sucking his finger, making smacking sounds, but the finger was as thin as a chicken claw, knuckles protruding, nails filled with black mud.

The old woman, seeing a few people suddenly standing at the doorway, looked nervous, instinctively pulling the children closer, and asked in a strained voice:

"Who… who are you?"

Jia Jing stood in the doorway without entering, smiled, and said in a gentle, warm tone:

"Please don't be nervous, elder; we're just passing by and would like to borrow some water to drink."

The old woman stared at him for a few breaths, her cloudy eyes scanning his face back and forth; seeing his gentle demeanor and glancing at the few youths with Jia Lan, she slightly relaxed.

She released the youngest from her arms, stood shakily, and walked to the stove.

She picked up a cracked earthen bowl, ladled a bowl of water from the pot; the water was cloudy, with a few wild‑vegetable leaves.

She carried the bowl back, her hand trembling slightly, spilling water along the way.

Jia Jing took the bowl, his gaze shifting from the old woman's face to the children's faces, then to the pot on the stove, and asked:

"Elder, are you the only one here caring for the children? This isn't the Liangxiang Guard Post garrison; why don't we see any people?"

The old woman ignored his question, evidently still keeping some guard.

Jia Jing gave Xuanwu a signal; Xuanwu understood, took a sack of grain from his personal guard behind him, placed it at the doorway, and said:

"Elder, my young master wishes to ask a few questions; this is our gratitude to you!"

For such impoverished families, giving grain directly is better than money and also prevents them from being marked.

The old woman, seeing so much grain, became somewhat emotional, her hoarse voice sounding ancient as she said:

"Sir, ask whatever you wish. Our family now only has a few of us elders and the little ones."

"This is Liangxiang Camp; it was formerly called Xingzhou Zhongtun Guard, later transferred here by the late Chengzu."

"The settlement once had many people, but over the years they gradually fled to survive! My family, because my father and grandfather are dead, cannot escape either!"

The old woman answered Jia Jing's previous two questions.

Jia Jing furrowed his brow slightly and asked softly:

"Are his father and grandfather both military households?"

The old woman lifted her head, looked at Jia Jing, a trace of sorrow in her gaze, sighed and said:

"Military households—our family has been military households of Liangxiang Camp for generations. The household passed down from the late Taizu reached my father's generation as the fifth line."

Her voice suddenly rose a half‑tone:

"When the late Taizu and Chengzu were alive, military households enjoyed blessings: they were given land, seeds, tools, no labor levies, no conscription."

"My father often says that his great‑grandfather, when he migrated from Jiangnan, was allotted forty mu of land by the court."

"The whole family, relying on those forty mu of land, ate their fill and wore warm clothes, and even had surplus grain to sell to the court…"

The old woman looked somewhat sorrowful, wiped her eyes with her sleeve; the coarse cloth on the sleeve had already worn thin, with a few conspicuous holes.

"Later the Guard Post had many vacant positions, and the superiors said the fields we cultivated were 'surplus land' and needed to be reclaimed."

"But that land had been planted by our ancestors for generations; how could it become 'surplus land'?"

She sighed, her voice grew hoarser, and she spoke more and more:

"Later, people from the Duke's manor in the capital came, saying this land was part of the Duke's estate outskirts, to be merged into one piece."

"They surveyed the land, drove stakes, and said they'd leave us five mu of grain field, and take the rest."

"His father objected, went to the Guard Post to demand an explanation, was beaten with thirty military staffs, lay down for half a month after returning, spent a lot on medicine, and his back injury never healed."

"The next year, war broke out in Liaodong, the Guard Post drafted strong youths; his father went there with his injury and never returned."