Chapter 272: Land and Soil

Outside the estate's main building, Monk Wang stood with hands tucked in his sleeves, squatting in the sun, his heart uneasy.

By his count, it had been a full five days since a Han soldier called Crooked Beam had taken him from the battlefield.

Five days of constant dread, never knowing what fate awaited him.

Monk Wang's strange battlefield journey began when he was tied up and thrown on the ground, a helmet shoved over his head so he could see nothing.

He heard men shouting battle cries, felt the tremor of hooves — someone even mistook him for a corpse and braced a firelock on his belly to fire.

The battle line surged near and far; lying on the ground, he rehearsed ten thousand times how he would explain his plight to the nobles of the Béri army — until the helmet was lifted, and the face before him turned out to be that man with the crooked nose bridge.

Monk Wang would never forget, for the rest of his life, the sight he saw when the helmet was taken off.

Three broken arrows were embedded in the chest of Crooked Beam's padded cotton armor, an axe gash scarred the brim of his helmet, and his face was smeared with crusted blood — he said, lightly, "The battle's over."

Looking back at the battlefield, corpses blanketed the field and blood pooled everywhere; among the figures still standing, apart from captives, not a single man of the Béri army could be seen.

He was terrified of these monsters.

That night after the battle ended, warhorses outside the estate screamed and whinnied for half the night, and the sound of soldiers in iron armor marching in formation haunted his dreams.

Waking the next day, Monk Wang realized the sounds in the night had not been a dream — the estate, inside and out, was full of Han soldiers.

While changing the dressing for the close-cropped Crooked Beam, Crooked Beam told him that his Grand Marshal had arrived.

Monk Wang was born on the east bank of the Jinsha River, where a river called the Ser Qu flows; he grew up beside it, the eldest son of a minor headman.

He had accompanied the army on this campaign only because a certain Rupön had long suffered from a stomach ailment and had asked him to serve as an army doctor.

The Denpa Depön who commanded an entire army was, in his eyes, already an unattainably lofty great noble... yet just this morning, Crooked Beam told him the Grand Marshal might see him.

Monk Wang waited a long time more before the guard bringing the order finally arrived; in a state of extreme unease, he was led up to the third floor.

In the spacious reception hall on the third floor, he saw several Lion Army officers in varied attire, gathered around a map discussing something.

Beside them, several sets of armor worn by Béri army Tiger Braves were laid out on sitting mats; someone sat on the ground, tracing the map.

He assumed the Grand Marshal would be one of those stern-faced officers, but to his surprise, the guard did not even glance that way — after cupping his hands in salute to the generals, he led him straight toward the balcony.

On the wide balcony sat several daybeds; a heroic young man in military attire sat facing an elderly monk, with a few guards seated to the left and right — among them, helmetless, was Crooked Beam.

Monk Wang recognized that monk: it was Karma Rabten, the abbot of Gönbum Monastery. He had seen him once before in Lhasa, though Karma did not know him.

"Marshal, the monk is here."

Liu Chengzong had been gazing silently into the distance; hearing the guard announce Monk Wang, he turned his head to look him over. Hmm... quite different from Wang Ziyong.

"Can you understand me?"

Monk Wang hurriedly nodded. Liu Chengzong raised a hand toward the spot beside Karma and said, "Sit. Don't stand on ceremony."

Monk Wang glanced left at Crooked Beam, then right at Monk Karma; seeing that neither objected to him sitting, he cautiously seated himself beside Karma.

Before his backside had even settled, he heard Liu Chengzong ask, "You can treat wounds and illnesses?"

Monk Wang hastily stood again and answered, "This humble, humble monk was born in the territory of the Dergé family and took his vows at the Tangya Sutra Hall. I am familiar with stomach ailments and external injuries."

Liu Chengzong waved him back down to speak and asked, "What kind of place is Dergé? Where is it? How big?"

"Set out east from here, reach the Jinsha River and head south — seven or eight days by horse will bring you into Dergé territory." Monk Wang was not certain of the exact distance and could only say vaguely, "A journey of three or four hundred li."

But as for how large the Dergé territory was, on this he was clear: "Since the Great Yuan Emperor bestowed official rank, the Dergé King has governed the narrow river valley of the middle Ser Qu — seventy li long and five li wide — for over three hundred years."

Hearing this description, Liu Chengzong could not help but smile.

It was simply too coincidental. The Dergé family's hereditary domain — a long, narrow valley seventy li long and five li wide — could not help but remind Liu Chengzong of his own homeland, the Coiling Dragon Creek valley.

The middle stretch of the river beyond Black Dragon Mountain was thirty li long and ten li wide, roughly comparable to the Dergé family's territory. With the surrounding villages scattered like a constellation, in his mind he could round the numbers and roughly model what the Dergé domain was like.

Liu Chengzong asked, "This Dergé King, and that Béri King — who is greater?"

This time it was Monk Wang's turn to be speechless. The two were not even on the same level. He quickly answered, "The Béri King is greater. The Béri King's domain is hundreds of times the size of Dergé. The Dergé territory is surrounded on all sides by the Béri King's lands."

Liu Chengzong nodded slowly and said to Monk Wang, "That army has been annihilated. I see you are a man of talent — would you be willing to stay and work for me?"

Monk Wang hurriedly rose again: "Grand Marshal, if this humble monk wished to leave... what would happen?"

Crooked Beam, beside him, cupped his fists and said, "Marshal, I'd say this monk has a decent build. The quarry in Hainan could use him."

Liu Chengzong shot Crooked Beam an exasperated look. "Why frighten him?"

Turning back, he said amiably, "It is no problem if you are unwilling to serve me. Rest assured, you understand Chinese, and those who understand Chinese receive good treatment no matter what they do. Even if you went to the quarry, I would make you an overseer."

The war was not yet over, and this monk inside the estate knew their troop strength — Liu Chengzong could not possibly let him leave.

But he still had many good places to go: the quarry in Hainan, building fortresses in Haibei, constructing an official residence at the Chaka Salt Lake, or felling timber in Haixi.

There was plenty of work to be done.

Monk Wang realized this as well and nodded helplessly. "Whatever the Grand Marshal bids this humble monk to do, this humble monk shall do."

"Very good. I will not treat you poorly. When there is nothing else, you will follow Crooked Beam. Crooked Beam —" Liu Chengzong turned his head to look at Crooked Beam, whose head was wrapped in plain cloth. "The fighting isn't over yet; you are needed here. I have a gift for you. From now on, this place is called Upper Beam."

He turned his gaze toward the far bank of the Gequ River, stretched out a hand, and said, "That place over there, from now on, is called Lower Beam."

Crooked Beam froze for a moment, then burst out laughing and rose to cup his fists. "Many thanks, Marshal!"

After all, naming a place like this was not a fief — it held only commemorative meaning. But meaning was better than no meaning, and Crooked Beam was still very pleased. He rubbed his head and grinned. "When I get back, I'll have to tell those two sons of mine — down south, there's a piece of land named after their old man."

Liu Chengzong laughed heartily at this. "Ha! Yes — tell those two Mongol sons of yours that you are the Grand Marshal's Baatar."

Crooked Beam's injuries were not severe. He had a few arrow punctures on his body, but through the armor they were just a few spots of blood — they had probably healed by now.

Only the wound on his head was slightly more serious: an axe had struck him, but fortunately the helmet's brim was long and caught the blade, preventing the axe from cutting too deep. It only deformed the six-plate iron helmet.

The wound on his head was not from the axe itself, but from a curved plate of the helmet, whose rivet had been knocked loose, tearing off a patch of his scalp.

A flesh wound.

Monk Wang's arrival was extremely critical for Liu Chengzong.

First, with a translator now present, much of the work could proceed. Second, there was the matter of intelligence on the Béri army.

In the end, the Denpa Depön and the other Béri nobles had not escaped pursuit. They had hidden in a cave and put up a desperate resistance, and Xie Erhu's Mongol soldiers lost several men because of it.

Xie Erhu was furious and no longer cared about taking prisoners. He simply set a fire and pumped in smoke. Those who ran out were all killed; those who did not were smoked to death inside the cave.

In the end, not a single survivor was brought back.

Liu Chengzong didn't blame Xie Erhu too harshly. If his own soldiers had been killed because the enemy held a fortified position, he wouldn't care about taking prisoners either.

But this did cause a serious loss of intelligence. Now the only way to get information was from the few nobles locked in the estate's dungeon, and none of them spoke Chinese.

Over the next few days, they would rely on Crooked Beam and Wang Heshang to press for whatever information they could.

But before that, Liu Chengzong had something more important to do — it was time to make good on his promises.

Since Liu Chengzong had shifted his forces to Danba, Basang's troops had struck out in all directions, sweeping through the noble domains within Nangqian in a completely secure environment. More and more slaves were converging here.

In just a few days, the slaves gathered outside the Danba estate numbered over three thousand.

Their origins were mixed. Some were slaves who had volunteered for the army from the Nangsuo Qianmo area, some had been recruited after the attacks on the estates, and others had been forcibly conscripted along the way by the Mongol herding soldiers.

Of course, there were also those like Buchi, who had risen up on their own to resist and came to join them.

Only the latter were very few — just Buchi alone.

Crooked Beam took Wang Heshang to find Basang, and together with the two hundred-plus Han soldiers who had fought, they selected the slaves who had shown greater valor in battle from Basang's troops.

Basang had sixteen squads, each with fifteen Lion Soldiers. Liu Chengzong had the Lion Soldiers of each squad pick out the brave ones. In the end, only fifteen names were submitted.

Two squads submitted no one at all. Crooked Beam's squad submitted two slaves from other squads, because Big Beard, who hailed from the Guanning Army, had seized two fleeing slaves from other squads to lead his spare horses when he spurred his horse to charge the enemy.

The two slaves led the horses and ran with him the whole way. Big Beard thought they were decent enough, so he put their names forward.

Judging by the merit reports from the sixteen Lion Soldier squads, Liu Chengzong sensed that the Lion Soldiers who had fought were deeply dissatisfied with the large-scale rout of the slave camp.

They were very strict.

But strictness had its advantages. The more rigorously they selected men, the greater their battle achievements, and the more land they would be granted.

Chen Shifo was tasked with surveying the fields in Nangqian, selecting many places suitable for establishing villages.

It was a simple job, because wherever there was a noble estate, it was suitable for a village.

Over three thousand slaves assembled at the Danba estate, craning their necks to look up at the third floor of the main building.

Noble estates were all built on much the same pattern. The ground floor typically held the dungeon and storerooms, the second floor housed the steward and workshops, and the third floor contained the master's living quarters, reception hall, Buddha hall, and other functional rooms.

Most slaves never set foot on the third floor their entire lives. They had rarely even tilted their heads back to look up at it.

But today, they had to crane their necks and look up at the third floor, because slaves just like them had climbed up there and were standing together with the Grand Marshal.

Wang Heshang stood on the third floor, calling out names to the crowd below again and again.

Most slaves had similar names. To prevent anyone from falsely claiming credit, each squad sent Han soldiers to call the chosen men to the front beforehand to wait.

One by one, the slaves climbed to the third floor. Liu Chengzong presented each with a land deed, while Wang Heshang loudly proclaimed their battle merits, the acreage and location of the land granted, and their appointment as village chief. Then they would go back downstairs and the next person would come up.

Their fields were all near Nangsuo Qianmo Fort, but each person's land was far apart from the others. In Liu Chengzong's plan, these men would serve as village chiefs and establish villages one by one.

However, after receiving their grants, they would not go to their land immediately. Instead, they were to go to Chen Shifo in Nangqian to learn Chinese.

Barring unforeseen circumstances, each of them would in the future be a village's chief, teacher, headman, and squad leader.

Only once these men were proficient in Chinese would it be convenient for Liu Chengzong to establish township heads later.

Chen Shifo had sent his plan from Nangqian. The plan divided the Nangqian territory into three counties and several dozen townships, with Lion Soldiers serving as the township heads and county officials. It essentially continued Liu Chengzong's idea of training soldiers for governance.

Aside from Chen Shifo not having accounted for Lama Gama, everything else was quite good.

Liu Chengzong felt he might need to set aside a patch of land for Gama in Riwoche. At this rate, Gama, who did not understand Chinese, would be completely unable to get involved in Nangqian.

Seeing that some people had truly received land, the slaves craning their necks in the estate wore complicated expressions.

Liu Chengzong could see envy in their eyes, but besides envy, many other emotions were mixed in.

Bewilderment, mockery, anticipation, and derision — all sorts of feelings were there.

He very much wanted to stand on the third-floor balcony and loudly declare to everyone: you are all free men. But he could not.

He could not unilaterally declare anything before people understood private property and land.

In Haibei, his father and Yang Dingrui were preparing a legal code for him, covering corvée regulations, monthly wages for hired laborers, sharecropping percentages for tenants, official taxes, the responsibilities of masters and servants, and other such provisions.

But the local conditions and environment were different, making the creation of legal statutes extremely difficult.

The roads here had no distance markers, some serfs had no fields and only herded livestock, there were no concrete boundaries between domains, and the maps were crude and hard to read — all of this made implementing laws difficult.

Even so, the granting of land to some caused a great uproar among the slaves. The one who reacted most strongly was Buchi.

She sought out Dai Daozi, gesturing animatedly and talking about the third floor. Only when Wang Heshang came over did they understand — she wanted to see Liu Chengzong.

At heart, Wang Heshang detested acting as a translator for slaves. Every word felt like one too many. He said irritably, "Do you think you can see the Grand Marshal just because you want to?"

It was only thanks to Dai Daozi noticing the disappointment in Buchi's eyes and drawing his blade halfway out of its scabbard that Wang Heshang translated faithfully. In the end, Buchi got her wish and met Liu Chengzong.

This woman, whose mind had been somewhat unsettled by terror of Lord Danba, prostrated herself on the ground the moment she saw Liu Chengzong. No matter how she was called, she would not rise. Incoherently, she recounted her experiences and her wish.

She was not like Basang. She did not want to become a lord. She only wanted to live together with her first four husbands, and she hoped the Grand Marshal could enlist her whole family into the army, so they could earn land through battle.

Whether in battle or in coming to see him face to face, Liu Chengzong admired this kind of courage.

He clapped and laughed heartily. "Granted!"