Chapter 773: Winter Idleness in Xuzhou

Wang Zhaojing had not returned to the city at all, staying right here at the He Family Estate. Ruhui had already purchased a residence at the estate, and his paramour from the city had moved over as well. Ji Xiang's whole family also came to the He Family Estate to spend the New Year. These three remained at the estate the entire time. Chen Sheng's father, Chen Wu, however, had a rather stubborn temper and insisted on staying in the city to hold his leisurely post as Chief Constable. So he went into the city for the New Year and could only rush back by the fifth day of the first month. During these few days, the First Regiment was temporarily under Zhao Jin's command.

"Brother Jin, you really do work hard." These were Mu Shulan's words. Seeing the situation Zhao Jin had built in Xuzhou, and then seeing how busy he was, anyone would have the same sentiment.

Early on the morning of the fifth, Zhao Jin took a group of brothers and several dozen mounted guards to the banks of the Yellow River. Both the southern and northern shores were bustling with intense activity, but this liveliness was not due to the first month's fairs and amusements. It was the labor of the common folk and refugees—everyone was digging silt, piling up earthen dikes, and constructing waterworks.

Even with the Zhao Camp present, and Xuzhou's harvest being quite good, there were still many who could not eat their fill and faced the spring hunger gap when the new crop was not yet ripe. Moreover, because of the Liao tax levies and the refugees and disaster victims arriving from various places, in previous years these people would have either fled further south or already frozen or starved to death. The Zhao Camp provided them with as much relief as possible, but the Zhao Camp did not offer charity for nothing. To eat the Zhao Camp's sorghum, coarse rice, bran, and vegetables, one had to perform a certain amount of labor, earning each day's keep by the work done that day. Estate guards with a certain grain ration could also participate, ultimately saving rations and building up more reserves.

River silt was excellent fertilizer for enriching the fields, and winter was precisely the best season for digging and repairing irrigation ditches. Building earthen dikes to serve as cofferdams was also one of the objectives. After all, what Xuzhou bordered was the Yellow River, and flooding from the Yellow River was one of the most terrifying disasters of this era. Taking precautions in advance was always better than making a last-minute desperate effort.

Digging river silt, excavating and repairing ditches, and building dikes and cofferdams—each task represented a colossal amount of earthmoving and backbreaking labor. After a grueling day's work, the participating laborers were utterly exhausted by nightfall. Yet their enthusiasm for taking part remained very high, because they could eat their fill. Everyone worked with fiery intensity. Many were constantly uneasy at heart, terrified that once these jobs ended, there would be nowhere to get a meal and they would have to go hungry.

However, this waterworks project was so enormous that it was estimated it could not be completed before the Yellow River thawed. Moreover, the overseers and foremen in charge had all made promises: those who worked hard here and performed well would have arrangements made for them once spring arrived. At that time, they would either be assigned to open up wasteland or sent to the estates to farm. In any case, there would be a place where they could earn their meals. These promises left everyone both anxious and worried, yet also excited, and their drive to work only grew stronger.

"Barring unforeseen events, this year's harvest will be even better than last year's. And it's not just Xuzhou—every territory we've firmly secured is doing the same thing. This can draw in refugees and also steady the estate guards' minds. With work to do and food to eat, they won't have so many wild thoughts." Zhao Jin and a few others observed from horseback. The household troops surrounding them, both mounted and on foot, maintained strict vigilance. Ruhui, quite excited, pointed and explained.

Everyone wore a slight smile. This busy winter activity was, of course, Zhao Jin's idea. Everyone could see the many benefits in it. Ruhui had just spoken of what could be said aloud; there were other things everyone understood in their hearts.

Over these past few years, the estate guards in the manor villages had found stable lives and lived in safety. Some had begun to harbor other thoughts. Their thinking was very simple: they felt that since everywhere inside the estate was so peaceful and secure, and the outside world was also in a time of peace, then what was Master Zhao doing penning everyone in and not letting them leave? Could it be that he intended for everyone to toil like oxen and horses for him their whole lives?

Once such thoughts arose, naturally they wanted to return to their hometowns to take a look. These estate guards had been within the Zhao Camp system for a long time and were quite familiar with its rules. Moreover, few of them had children yet, so able-bodied young men and women could set out without any encumbrances. It was very easy for them to escape. But with the Liao tax levies extorting and scraping everything away, once you left the Xuzhou area, it was no longer a peaceful, blessed land.

Some were lucky and were caught and brought back right by the Yellow River, but they only grew more convinced they had been deceived. Some were unlucky and made it out of the Zhao Camp's territory. Then, no matter what they saw or what befell them, whether they regretted it or not, they could never return. Only a few managed to run back, and their families and companions often did not return with them.

The entire Zhao Camp, from top to bottom, was furious about such matters. Those few who had returned were sent to preach in every estate. They did not need to embellish anything—just recounting their true experiences was enough. What they had seen, heard, and lived through was sufficient to shock the others.

But doing this alone was far from enough. For better harvests, for more perfect estates, for better fortifications and encampments, the refugees in every estate were mobilized to carry out all kinds of labor, leaving them no chance to run away and no time or energy for wild thoughts.

Those who could serve as foremen were all household troops or militia. They used what they had learned in training to manage the labor force. In the course of this labor, the laborers gained the most basic organization and elementary coordination. If any of them were later selected to become militia or even household troops, their receptiveness to that training would be much higher.

Beyond the effect on their own estate guards, this heavy labor also served to absorb the refugees and disaster victims entering Xuzhou. Those who could participate in this labor and persevere were certainly the most physically robust of the able-bodied common folk. They were the most useful. To put it cruelly, under the pressures of freezing and starvation, those not strong enough had already been weeded out.

There were also lucky ones among the outside refugees. If you had a special skill, no matter what kind, it would guarantee you did not starve to death. You could use your skill to trade for your entire family's survival. Beyond that, literacy was also a stroke of luck. But do not assume the Zhao Camp valued any scholarly Confucian students. If you wanted to survive, you had to learn bookkeeping and practical work. The contents of the classics were utterly useless. What you had to learn were the skills of a clerk doing business in a government office or a manager or accountant in a trading firm. Both of these sounded quite respectable, but at the start, you would begin as an errand-running apprentice. Another group that received free relief was healthy children, whether boys or girls. The Zhao Camp would proactively take them in and provide relief. If the parents agreed to sell the child into the Zhao household, even if the child was not an orphan, the family would receive a certain subsidy.

Some remarked rather caustically that this was because Zhao Jin now had children of his own, so he was exercising what little remaining compassion he had. If he were to still buy and sell people, a bolt of lightning really ought to strike him dead from the heavens. However, Zhao Jin had not even taken this into consideration. To him, children were blank sheets of paper who could be cultivated into subordinates loyal to him and masters of the skills he imparted.

One final point: this labor was also meant to use up the grain in various storehouses that was about to go moldy. Trading tribute grain for liquor and estate farming had allowed the Zhao Camp to amass a huge quantity of grain. Although Xuzhou was very suitable for storing grain, it could not be kept forever. Rather than letting the grain rot, it was better to put it to greater use.

Yet even the most caustic person had to acknowledge the efficiency of the Zhao Camp's winter project. The government offices of Xuzhou's one prefecture and four counties had not been without attempts to organize similar activities, but they all started with great fanfare and ended in nothing, or even devolved into a means for officials and clerks to collude for profit and extort the common people. But the labor organized by the Zhao Camp was several times, even ten times, more efficient and effective than what the government organized. To watch countless loads of river silt being transported to nearby estates to fertilize the fields, ditches being dug one after another, and the earthen dikes and ferry crossings along the Yellow River growing ever more complete—it was truly staggering.

Many people inside and outside Xuzhou had never even imagined such things could be accomplished, and this gave them an even deeper understanding of Zhao Jin.

Beyond the more efficient allocation of civilian labor, many failed to notice the large-scale deployment of iron tools. Without proper tools, digging earth and silt was no easy task. Moreover, a great number of draft animals and carts were thrown into this labor, further raising efficiency. And building ditches was not merely a matter of digging a trench; one also had to know how to divert water and operate sluice gates. Otherwise, the ditches would easily be ruined and fail to serve their intended purpose. To achieve the best results, the Zhao Camp had specifically invited waterworks craftsmen from Qingjiangpu. These men were also part of the tribute grain transport system, specializing in canal repair. It was a sad state of affairs: in the current Great Ming, apart from the canal transport system, which still had craftsmen who understood hydraulics, irrigation ditches and channels everywhere else were maintained solely by passed-down experience. They had become exceedingly crude, with everything dependent on the whims of nature.

Even the Zhao Camp's household troops and militia stationed in Xuzhou took part in the winter labor. This was directly treated as a form of training, though they did not participate full-time; instead, squads and companies rotated through. Although the Zhao Camp's household troops and militia did not work long hours, it greatly boosted the morale of the other estate households and refugees. Even the men under Master Jin who carried blades and rode horses were taking part—what grievance could anyone have about doing this work?

Zhao Jin and his party rode up onto the earthen dike by the Yellow River and gazed at the bustling crowds below. The laboring commoners looked up with awe and reverence at Zhao Jin's group, knowing they were the masters of Xuzhou. They never imagined that Zhao Jin and those beside him were looking down at the busy crowds below with equally complex gazes.

"Elder Brother, when I look at these people below, my chest swells with heroic pride. To be able to harness the people's strength to this degree—what endeavor could our Zhao Camp possibly fail at?" Wang Zhaojing said, pointing with his riding crop.

Wang Zhaojing was not alone in thinking this. Everyone standing atop the dike looking down upon this scene thought the same. Watching the dense crowds below laboring busily in an orderly formation, watching the various projects along the Yellow River gradually nearing completion, each heart swelled with heroic ambition.

On the seventh day of the first month, the Xu family delivered the first batch of fifteen bird-beak muskets. The muskets were sent directly to Zhao Jin. The curved grip, the slender barrel, the bird-beak clamp, the trigger, the priming pan, and all such components were complete. The fuses, gunpowder, and even the lead shot were fully provided. After all, the Xu family had been using these bird-beak muskets for a very long time.

Everyone inside and outside the Zhao Camp knew Zhao Jin's habits, or rather, they had all heard the stories. Master Jin, though young in years, was extremely steady and composed. The only few times he had lost his composure were all related to firearms. Now that fifteen pieces had been delivered at once, Zhao Jin had arrived early at the cadet corps encampment, and no one found it the least bit strange.

Thanks to the three old friends "Yuan Heng Li Zhen, Mu Ming, and jackyhong" for their tips, and thank you all for your subscriptions and monthly tickets.