Chapter 12: Listening to Life Experience

In the Han military system, five squads made a platoon; the Xin Dynasty called this a "clerk-officer," commanding just fifty men.

No way — was he being looked down on that much? The subtext was clear: his management ability was only a bit better than a Sergeant's or a Corporal's.

Diwu Lun felt deeply indignant. He was a transmigrator two thousand years ahead of his time! "Grandfather, why do you say that?"

But a single speech from Diwu Ba silenced him.

"Lun'er, do you want to be a young clan head whom everyone supports and loves, or a cold-faced, ruthless hamlet chief whom people hate? You'd best think it through clearly."

"Did all these people answer the call to help build the house just for a bowl of food? Life in the hamlet is hard, but not so desperate as that. Most of them simply wanted to repay the favor of borrowing the ox. They aren't our household retainers or bondservants — and when you had meals prepared, that was meant as thanks for their help."

"Yet now, even taking a mouthful of food, they're watched by you as if they were thieves, and it's one ladle per person with no extra allowed? Those who never wanted to labor in the first place are nursing resentment, and those who've been working hard feel insulted too."

That was true. Diwu Lun put himself in their shoes — if he were treated like that, he might well slam down his bowl and chopsticks and walk out. It wasn't as if anyone was paying wages, after all.

Come to think of it, in his previous life, though he'd lived to nearly thirty, he'd been an ordinary corporate drone — more often managed by others, with little experience managing people himself. Diwu Lun could proudly say that, aside from leading dungeon raids in online games, in real life he'd never led a team of even five people, let alone fifty!

There was a great deal of subtlety in this. Diwu Ba had never studied management, but he had a wealth of experience — every bit of it summed up from countless stumbles and hard knocks over the past several decades. He would never pass it on to anyone but his own grandson.

Diwu Ba continued: "What is a clan, what are kinsmen? It's human feeling and self-interest bound together, so tangled it's hard to sort out. If you insist on drawing boundaries and rules as starkly as the clear Jing and muddy Wei rivers, you'll only create distance. Your method — if later you gather the clansmen into a military unit to fight, where strict obedience is paramount, it would naturally work. But applied to the present situation, it will only wound people's hearts and wear away the affection and respect you've worked so hard to build."

"Since you've chosen to bestow favor, then bestow it thoroughly, and show some generosity. In a village community, grain has a price, but human feeling is priceless. You must remember: when you do things, don't just set up rules — mix in a touch of human warmth."

Diwu Lun understood. What he'd had in mind was never as simple as saving the household a bit of grain. He'd only felt that, since he couldn't yet openly drill the clan's able-bodied men and hamlet folk as soldiers, he could use the existing squad-and-platoon system to subtly cultivate their discipline.

From his grandfather's tone, was there no need to rush? Then how should he manage the current situation?

But Diwu Ba fell silent again, leaving Diwu Lun to figure it out himself. After biting his nails for a moment, Diwu Lun said quietly: "So, when I drill them in the future, I'll tolerate no personal feelings — but in everyday life, I must still wear a spring breeze on my face."

Diwu Lun glanced over at his clansmen and the hamlet folk. Wherever the young master's gaze swept, they all smiled back at him — and that gave Diwu Lun an inspiration.

"From now on, each squad and platoon will eat separately. Each gets one full cauldron of rice, one li-vessel of pulse-leaf soup, and two dishes of sauce — enough for ten-odd people to eat their fill, but no extra. And no special overseer will be assigned to watch the serving. Those who grab more than their share will naturally earn cold stares from their neighbors, because if some eat too much, the rest of the squad will have to eat less."

"As for those clansmen who are truly lazy and go too far in fighting for food — Grandfather, could we have Diwu Ge or one of the retainers reprimand them? They can play the villain, while rewards and punishments remain in my hands."

Diwu Ba clapped his hands and laughed heartily: "Fine Boyu! Your skill at handling men has risen a rank above clerk-officer — you're fit to be a 'Centurion' now!"

…

After that, Diwu Lun spent more time moving among the squads and platoons, showing consideration for the old and weak, sitting with them at the worksite to chat idly, memorizing every person's name. He no longer drove them overtime day after day as if hounding them to death.

And Diwu Ge truly proved perfectly suited to be grain officer — he was downright miserly, watching the hamlet folk eat every day as if every extra mouthful were a bite out of his own flesh. His scolding was harsh, too. Those fellows who picked the lightest work but ate like starving men were singled out by Diwu Ge, who pointed at their noses and berated them until they wished they could sink into the ground. To avoid being shunned by the whole hamlet, they could only stammer out apologies to Diwu Lun and promise they'd never dare shirk again.

It was laughable, really. What ultimately solved the problem wasn't the strictly formulated rules, but rather the hamlet's own long-established, unwritten "morality."

Still, there were things Diwu Lun couldn't keep an eye on. Take Diwu Pingdan, the one plowing with the curved-shaft plow — the sergeant of his squad was a greedy, contemptible man. He put on a show of working, but whenever the young master and Diwu Ge turned their backs, he'd swiftly ladle out an extra scoop of rice, then add another scoop for his son too, threatening everyone not to tell.

The others dared to be angry but not to speak. Diwu Pingdan, the most honest worker of all, had two sons who wanted to go tell the young master, but Diwu Pingdan stopped them.

"Forget it. It's just a mouthful of food. We didn't come to help for that — don't make trouble for the young master."

What they didn't know was that Diwu Lun was aware of it — yet he didn't stop it on the spot. He simply watched, eyes wide open, as the honest man took the loss.

When the project was successfully completed, Diwu Lun showed the record booklet he'd kept to his grandfather. Which clansmen had influence among the neighbors, who was diligent, who was lazy, who was obedient, who was unruly, who was greedy — Diwu Lun had quietly noted it all down.

After leafing through it, Diwu Ba smiled: "Your judgment of people is broadly accurate. You've been promoted again — you could serve as a 'Company Commander' now."

A Company Commander was a mid-ranking officer in the new army, commanding over two hundred men — which was exactly the number of able-bodied males in Diwu Hamlet. It seemed he really was making progress.

Diwu Lun let out a breath of relief. No one was born a manager; on this path, he still had a long way to go.

Yet he also had a strange feeling.

"Why do I feel… like I'm just a college-graduate village official who knows nothing but book knowledge."

"And Grandfather — he's the old Party secretary, brimming with life experience!"

…

By the day before the Autumn Sacrifice, the entire construction period had ended. Diwu Ge, whose face had been dark for many days, finally showed a smile.

It was because the neighboring Sixth clan had driven over an oxcart and delivered a hundred dan of grain.

After the great drama of the County Magistrate mediating the dispute, Sixth Du no longer had to worry about being bullied by the Seventh clan for the time being. Though he'd been surprised and a bit regretful to hear that Diwu Lun had resigned the Filial and Fraternal post, he hadn't proven ungrateful.

"Cigong, Boyu — this hulled rice is all to help with the sacrificial offerings."

Sixth Du was full of gratitude toward the Diwu clan, and he announced that from now on, they would send people to join Diwu Hamlet in the ancestral sacrifices.

A little later, Diba Jiao arrived as well — but what he brought was… a plaque?

Diwu Ba muttered under his breath that scholars were just stingy; what kind of gift was this? But Diwu Lun understood its meaning and accepted it with a smile.

The Diba clan's family learning was the Qi Analects, so they counted as intellectuals. A carpenter had carefully crafted the plaque, and Diba Jiao, who wrote a fine hand, had taken up the brush and inscribed two characters in clerical script.

"Li Ren — 'Humane Hamlet'!"

Diba Jiao bowed to Diwu Lun and his grandfather and said: "The Master said, 'To dwell in humaneness is beautiful. If one chooses not to dwell in humaneness, how can one be called wise?'"

The meaning of this saying is: to live among those who possess humaneness — that is what is good. If the place you choose to live is not next to those with humaneness, how can you be called wise? It teaches the way of choosing one's neighbors.

Diba Jiao now felt the same as Sixth Du — that his own family had good neighbors.

"The Diwu clan and Boyu fully deserve the name 'Humane Hamlet.' To dwell in the same district as your family is our good fortune. My father said that when the Autumn Sacrifice day comes, the Diba clan is also willing to contribute one sheep and one pig as offerings."

This was tantamount to taking sides. Diwu Ba was quite astonished — had that old man Diba had a change of heart?

In truth, over the past few days, the fame of Diwu Lun's "two refusals and one resignation" had gradually spread, even reaching neighboring counties. Diba Zhi had always been sensitive to such things, and he understood perfectly well what the prevailing ethos was that the realm's scholars esteemed — was it not humility and yielding? Sometimes, the more one yielded, the higher one's reputation rose, and the greater the benefits that followed.

So he had decided to place his bet on Diwu Lun.

Yet he had sent only his son, keeping one precaution in place — if the First clan sent someone to reproach them, he could always claim it was the personal choice of his unfilial son Diba Jiao, and had nothing to do with the family.

Diwu Lun accepted the plaque and had it hung above the gate of the ancestral hall, declaring: "This hall shall be called 'Humane Hamlet Hall'!"

"May it be that from this day forward, my clan brothers unite their strength and hearts as one!"

With this, the "small goal" Diwu Lun had spoken of earlier — "gathering the clan together" — could be considered half accomplished.

Before everyone could sit down, a clamor of voices arose, and Diwu Fu came running in high spirits to report: "Young master, the Fourth clan has also come — their family head in person!"

"Fourth Xian has come too?" Diwu Ba was taken aback. Weren't the Fourth and Seventh clans both circling around the First clan?

Everyone filed out of the ancestral hall and saw, in the distance, a line of merchants dressed in plain white clothes, carrying goods on shoulder poles and by hand, entering Diwu Hamlet. Back in the day, the Fourth clan had been allotted poorer hamlet land. To survive, this family had early on taken the path of trade and commerce, mainly using carts and horses to transport goods, trading between the two banks of the Jing River. Later, their business grew larger and larger, and they even opened mines.

Diwu Ba, perhaps having suffered losses at their hands before, was deeply wary of the Fourth clan. He warned Diwu Lun: "Lun'er, that Fourth Xian has 'salt' in his name, but his mouth seems smeared with honey. If you don't guard against him, you'll surely be taken in. Whatever he says in a moment, don't lightly believe a word of it!"

Diwu Lun understood. When the other party drew near, he saw that the leader was a short, plump middle-aged man, wiping sweat from his brow. Even from a distance, he cupped his hands and called out: "The Diwu clan raising an ancestral hall and repairing the hamlet altar — word of this has spread throughout the whole district. As a neighbor and kinsman, how could I not come? Yet Cigong didn't even send someone to invite me — do you look down on me?"

Diwu Ba had already tucked his suspicions away. Smiling broadly, he returned the greeting: "You flatter me. I only feared delaying the Fourth clan's commerce — everyone knows your family never forgets to be out on business, even during festivals."

"Cigong, don't bring that up." The Fourth Xian's face darkened, and he looked thoroughly vexed. "Business has grown harder and harder lately. We've already closed our stalls for many days. Better not speak of money and cloth."

The Fourth Xian was indeed a smooth talker. After introductions, he looked Diwu Lun over and praised him for having grown taller, and for being a promising youth: "The reputation of Boyu's 'two refusals and one resignation' has already spread to Yunyang County. When people hear he is a kinsman of our clan, the Yunyang folk all raise their thumbs in approval — and business has become a little easier, too!"

Is that so? Diwu Lun was amused. Two refusals and one resignation — more like one parting and both at ease.

Diba Jiao and the Sixth Du also each received a round of flattery from him. He was truly a merchant adept at dancing in long sleeves — after making the rounds, he had offended no one. His small eyes kept darting about the hamlet, as if searching for something.

Afterward, the Fourth Xian went to the Benevolence Hall to pay respects to the ancestors. Looking up at the wooden plaque, he was unstinting in his praise: "'Benevolence in the Hamlet' — well said! A trader may gain a hundred catties of gold, but that cannot compare to kinsmen and brothers reuniting. Cigong, I must still call you Uncle of the clan. If I come to assist in the sacrifices another year, you won't despise my family as lowly marketplace hucksters, will you?"

So saying, the Fourth Xian clapped his hands: "Bring those gifts up."

……

The "gifts" the Fourth Xian had brought were sack after sack of clam-lime.

Diwu Lun opened one, glanced inside, rubbed a pinch between his fingers, and laughed to himself. "Isn't this just lime," he thought.

The stuff was originally made from river mussel shells and the like. By the Han dynasty, people had begun mining lime ore, laboriously chiseling it out of deep mountains and firing it with firewood and charcoal in a blazing blaze. This lime came from a lime quarry north of the Jing River — the chief enterprise run by the Fourth clan.

The Fourth Xian said: "I thought that rebuilding the hamlet shrine and ancestral hall would surely require it, so I delivered it myself. I hope I am not too late?"

He was indeed not too late. For ordinary houses, smearing the outside with horse dung and plant ash sufficed — some even left the adobe bare. But for sacred places like ancestral halls and hamlet shrines, one had to carefully whitewash the walls with lime and sprinkle it on the ground to keep out insects and weeds. In this, the Fourth clan had done their part.

Beyond this, people of the time also used lime for retting hemp and tanning leather.

But in Diwu Lun's view, this was simply a waste. If the quantity were sufficient, one could try mixing simple cement, or adjusting the acidity of fish ponds and farmland. In desperate circumstances, it could disinfect small wounds — though it would certainly sting badly. It could even be used as a weapon against enemies.

The gifts the Fourth Xian brought did not stop at this one item.

Once everyone had entered the house, he had two jars carried in with an air of mystery…

Diwu Ba knew perfectly well what those were and refused at once: "This cannot be allowed!"

"Why can it not be allowed?" the Fourth Xian explained. "This is wine our family brewed for ourselves, not for sale."

"And that law against group drinking has long been relaxed. So long as you don't drink openly in Chang'an or the county seat, who can reach into the hamlet to control us? Cigong was a hearty drinker in his day — when did you become so timid?"

Yet what Diwu Ba worried about was not any group-drinking law. Among the Xin Dynasty's Five Equalizations and Six Monopolies, iron was the strictest, salt next, and the regulation of wine was the loosest. At most, the authorities could ban public sale within the city, but private brewing flourished below, and they were utterly unable to stop common folk from brewing their own.

As for the group-drinking law, concocted in imitation of the Zhou dynasty — that thing was simply a case of the prefect being allowed to set fires while the commoner was forbidden to light a lamp. City nobles could drink through the night till dawn without trouble, but commoners had to be cautious during the autumn sacrifice. On what grounds?

After refusing the Fourth clan's wine, Diwu Ba said quietly to Diwu Lun: "Merchants are constantly subject to inspection by officials. Though the Fourth clan has the backing of the township Bailiff and someone to protect them, who can say for certain? If their family is seized by the authorities, and they turn around and bite our Diwu clan, claiming they once sold wine to me — wouldn't that be a wrongful calamity?"

Because of this distrust of the Fourth clan, the wine secretly stored in the family cellar was not brought out either. They could only chat dryly, and Diwu Lun soon discovered that the Fourth Xian was a man of truly many words!

Diwu Lun found farming too slow for producing grain, and he wanted to obtain iron through other channels, so he developed a keen interest in the Fourth clan's business. After a few bowls of hot broth, as if Diwu Lun's questions had stirred up painful memories, the Fourth Xian was already speaking with tears in his eyes.

"Cigong, my nephew Boyu — being a merchant these days is truly too hard!"

……

PS: Maps and reference materials are updated irregularly on the public account "July Old Fan."

Also, this book will likely go on sale around December 1st. No need to save your November monthly tickets for me.

For now, I only ask for recommendation tickets.