Chapter 74: Great Song Loyal Citizen Zhang Jie

“Uncle overpraises me.”

Zhang Jie maintained his usual humility.

“Uncle, please come inside.”

Zhang Jie invited Wen Bin into his home.

“After you, nephew.”

Wen Bin replied. Unlike before, when he had looked down from above,

Zhang Jie, now having passed the provincial exam as the top scholar, had earned the right to stand equal to him.

Although passing as the top scholar did not guarantee success in the palace exam,

the top scholar still held great advantages over other juren.

And Zhang Jie was young—youth was his greatest asset!

After all, youth meant infinite possibilities.

Zhang Jie walked a step ahead of Wen Bin, leading him toward the Zhang household.

Along the way, Zhang Jie recounted amusing anecdotes from the imperial examination path, helping to lighten the mood.

Wen Bin, for his part, appeared genuinely interested,

and for a time, the two men—despite their decades-long age gap—talked cheerfully.

“Our young master has grown up!”

Watching this, the old steward felt deeply satisfied.

Zhang Jie now had the full capability to uphold the Zhang family.

Yan Poqi’s eyes sparkled with admiration:

to her, the county magistrate had always been a towering figure,

yet Zhang Jie now chatted and laughed freely with such a powerful man,

meaning Zhang Jie himself had entered the upper echelons of society.

Even the Zhang family’s laborers felt a sense of pride.

Compared to other landlords who drained their workers to the bone, Zhang Jie treated them exceptionally well.

Not only did he never withhold wages, but he also gave gifts during festivals and holidays,

and often provided aid when families faced hardship or illness.

Now that Zhang Jie’s status was secure, their lives had hope.

Zhang Jie waved his hand: “How could one expect a horse to run without feeding it?”

Zhang Jie led Wen Bin into the reception hall and treated him with great hospitality—this need not be detailed.

Their conversation centered on:

Wen Bin: “Young brother, I’ve got high hopes for you!

From now on, in Yanggu County, I’ve got your back!”

Naturally, he subtly warned him not to overstep boundaries,

such as exploiting his juren status to claim tax exemptions by accepting excessive land transfers.

If next year’s tax revenue falls short, everyone will suffer.

Land transfers were fine, but not to excess.

Zhang Jie replied: “I have always been a loyal subject of the Great Song,

loyal to the Emperor, and would never do anything to harm the people.”

At the same time, Zhang Jie produced a jade pendant, saying it was something he found on his journey to the imperial exams,

but since he was absorbed in books and scholarship, he lacked the skill to appraise it, and begged his uncle to examine it.

Wen Bin held the jade pendant, worth at least three or four hundred taels, and his smile grew even brighter:

as the magistrate of Yanggu County, he certainly didn’t lack three or four hundred taels of silver,

but what delighted him was that this young brother still understood the ways of the world,

and had not looked down on him just because he had become top scholar.

The Great Song inherited the Five Dynasties’ system, where county magistrates served three-year terms.

After Emperor Zhenzong, although adjustments were made, the three-year term became the dominant norm.

However, due to the growing number of officials and severe bureaucratic bloat,

actual terms were often shortened to two years or even less.

Frequent reassignments made it difficult for magistrates to master local affairs, worsening the “strong clerks, weak officials” phenomenon,

forcing magistrates like him to rely on local power brokers to govern.

Zhang Jie, now holding the title of top scholar, was clearly a rising local power broker.

Winning over some, suppressing others, and supporting a few local power brokers—

this was a necessary ritual for every new magistrate upon taking office.

He had come specifically to win over Zhang Jie, this new power broker, and suppress the old ones led by the assistant magistrate and county constable,

who competed with him for power and profit.

What if, in a few years, Zhang Jie grew too powerful to be controlled by the magistrate?

What problem was that?

His own term was barely over a year long—he only needed to ensure Zhang Jie didn’t oppose him during that time.

Whether Zhang Jie or the next magistrate gained the upper hand afterward was none of his concern.

He chose to trust the wisdom of future generations~

Besides, perhaps Zhang Jie would pass the palace exam next year?

Then he and Zhang Jie would serve together in the capital, and they’d need to maintain good relations.

After all, serving together in court is like sharing the same boat!

…

“Nephew, no need to see me off.”

At the Zhang family gate, Wen Bin, satisfied with his outcome, beamed.

“Uncle, take care. I’ll be sure to attend tomorrow on time.”

Zhang Jie bowed farewell to Wen Bin.

‘Why are there so many banquets?’

After seeing Wen Bin off, Zhang Jie rubbed his temples.

After passing the provincial exam, he had already attended the banquet in Jinan Prefecture,

then another hosted by County Magistrate Wen Bin in Yuncheng County,

and now back in Yanggu County, Wen Bin had invited him again to tomorrow’s banquet.

Day after day, all he did was attend banquets—how could he get anything else done?

Or was attending banquets itself one of Wen Bin’s most important tasks?

Now Zhang Jie had experienced firsthand the old tradition:

“Eat while talking, eat while chatting.”

‘Forget it—I won’t attend any more banquets after tomorrow.’

Zhang Jie resolved in his heart: after attending Wen Bin’s banquet tomorrow, he would decline all others.

He already had a ready excuse: Zhang Jie:

‘You all agree that as a top scholar, I naturally aim to pass the palace exam, right?

The metropolitan exam is harder than the provincial one, so it’s only natural that I lock myself away to study hard,

or travel the land to broaden my knowledge, right?

Then wouldn’t it be perfectly natural that I have no time for other banquets?’

Arriving at his study, he dismissed the other servants and asked the old steward:

“Uncle Zhong, have the master craftsmen produced any new work?”

“Young master, here are their best pieces from the past two months.”

The old steward pulled a box from the bookshelf.

Zhang Jie opened it, revealing a single tube.

The tube emitted a cold, metallic gleam,

about one meter long, with an internal diameter of roughly two centimeters.

Zhang Jie picked it up, weighed it in his hand, then held it to his eye,

and found its interior smooth, with no visible burrs.

“Good.”

Zhang Jie nodded in satisfaction.

“Young master, are you going to use this to make… that smoking gun?”

The old steward asked thoughtfully.

He knew his young master had made two short guns before.

Those two short guns were extremely powerful, stronger than ordinary bows and crossbows.

“Yes.”

Zhang Jie nodded slightly.

Making a gun is a massive undertaking, something one person cannot handle alone.

His longtime steward, as someone close to him, must be informed.

And those who frequently make guns know that the hardest parts of modern firearms are the bullets and the barrel.

But since Zhang Jie is still working with black powder guns,

the bullets he uses are lead balls, so the hardest part is the barrel.

A high-quality barrel is the prerequisite for long range and high accuracy.

And because the chamber pressure from ignited gunpowder is too great, the barrel cannot be cast.

At least not with the current technological level of the Great Song:

Cast barrels easily develop defects such as air bubbles and uneven structure,

making it difficult to meet the demands for high strength and precision,

especially under high temperature and pressure, where dangerous explosions are likely.

The only method available in the Great Song is machining.

The barrel of the short flintlock pistol Zhang Jie killed Wang Chuang with

was painstakingly drilled out by hand by master craftsmen.

“Young Master, the hydraulic machinery blueprints you gave the master craftsmen last period were perfect.

After they built them, all the masters praised them—this barrel was drilled out using hydraulic machinery.”

The old steward marveled at Zhang Jie’s mastery of heaven and earth.

“Just ordinary.”

Zhang Jie waved his hand, unbothered by pride.

That kind of blueprint, in truth, was no different from windmills or waterwheels—only more stable and precise.

‘Sigh. Why hasn’t a modern Zhang Jie—or even an interstellar Zhang Jie—appeared?’

Zhang Jie sighed inwardly.

Using hydraulics is still not as convenient or efficient as internal combustion engines or electricity.

Even though he has perfect recall, he does not know the detailed structural diagrams of internal combustion engines.

After all, he never studied internal combustion engine blueprints in his past life; perfect recall doesn’t mean he can fabricate them out of thin air.

As for generators, he could build them—but they’d be crude and hard to transmit power through.

Moreover, the technological level of the Great Song is still far too low,

and many materials are simply impossible to find in a short time—like rubber.

If only a high-tech Zhang Jie could bring more detailed technological data,

alloy formulas, and so on, his problems would be solved instantly.

What about a high-tech world like the Pirate World, with its pacifist robots?

How to put it?

Due to the isolation of the sea, the differences between islands in the Pirate World are enormous.

There’s Vegapunk, a technological genius said to be five hundred years ahead of the world,

and the Vinsmoke family, who began genetic modification and cloning in the North Blue,

but some islands are still in the barbaric age of slash-and-burn agriculture.

The gap is so vast it’s hard to believe they live in the same world.

One thing worth noting is that when Vegapunk had already created

Pacifists capable of rivaling a Rear Admiral-level expert,

the Navy’s low-ranking soldiers were still armed with flintlock muskets, and even their warships were still wooden.

The so-called “high-tech” used to cross the Calm Belt is said to be nothing more than embedded Sea Stone.

One can only say that advanced technology is this simple and unadorned…

And all the officers of Big Mom’s Pirate Crew are Devil Fruit users, each drawing power from within themselves,

so it’s absurd to think they’d have any motivation to develop technology.

Most islands under Big Mom’s Pirate Crew live pastoral, idyllic lives,

growing various crops to supply ingredients for making delicacies on Cake Island.

Pirate Zhang Jie is still a nobody—he dares not now sail to the Grand Line.

If he got taken down by some lowly thug with Haki, it’d be ridiculous.

In any case, Pirate Zhang Jie has already decided: until he gains the strength to protect himself, he will never leave the island.

Pirate Zhang Jie: Stay steady, don’t be reckless～