Chapter 53: Nothing Compares to the Cruelty of Harsh Governance

The news that Lord Xin He was distributing grain and land at Yanmen Pass spread far and wide across the land overnight.

Before the crops matured, room and board were fully provided.

After the harvest, only half of the grain would be taken away, and no grain taxes needed to be paid.

Such an incredible stroke of good fortune could not be found anywhere else, even with a lantern in hand!

Though the borderlands were bitter and cold, they were still far better than the cruelty of oppressive governance.

As soon as the news broke, commoners leading their families and carrying their children headed north in an endless stream.

By the time Dongfang Jibai received word, a large crowd of refugees had already gathered outside Yanmen Prefecture.

In Yanmen Prefecture now, apart from the prefect, the magistrates of every single county had been replaced by Dongfang Jibai's trusted confidants.

That prefect knew how to read the room; ever since his favorite concubine was beheaded right before his eyes on the fourth day of the month, he never dared to act presumptuously again.

Whatever was written for him to submit in his semi-monthly memorials was what he submitted, and he never dared to smuggle in any private agendas.

Had he not knelt and begged for mercy so quickly, the person sitting in the prefect's seat right now would have been Sixth-in-Rank, who excelled in the art of disguise.

The prefect was too afraid of death, and lately, he had been serving diligently like a beast of burden.

It was good that he was afraid of death; only those who feared death had a fatal weakness.

Meanwhile, Sixth-in-Rank was busy impersonating the Fourth Prince.

He spent his days inseparable from the real Fourth Prince, observing his every move, studying his preferences, probing into his past, and mapping out his interactions with court ministers.

Once the intelligence gathering was complete, Sixth-in-Rank presented a densely written list to Dongfang Jibai.

Dongfang Jibai looked at the names of court ministers that filled almost the entire sheet of paper and couldn't help but sneer.

Though this Fourth Prince lacked real power, he was quite adept at social maneuvering, actually managing to rope in the entire court of civil and military officials.

He had promised every single one of them a title of nobility or a grand chancellorship once he ascended the throne, though it was unclear how much sincerity lay behind those words.

The court ministers were two-faced, and every last one of them was an old fox; how could they cooperate so easily?

"Keep watching him and dig up his entire background from childhood to present," Dongfang Jibai instructed. "Only by knowing both yourself and your enemy can you emerge victorious in every battle."

Dongfang Jibai tossed the letter into the candlelight and gazed at the bright daylight outside the window.

Outside the mansion gates at this moment,

Ji Ci was leading Zhao Qiaofeng and preparing to leave the city.

The two of them traveled light without even bringing Wang Feng, leading only Xin Tian and a group of youngsters as they drove carts fully loaded with white rice.

This grain was to be distributed to the commoners gathered outside the city.

Among the influx of refugees recently, it was inevitable that imperial spies had mixed in.

Ji Ci had come precisely to help Dongfang Jibai root out those hidden agents.

The morning light was faint, and the western wind swept dead grass across the desolate fields.

At the entrance of the village, a few ragged children huddled together for warmth, looking as though they had just arrived not long ago.

Nearby, an old man with turbid eyes full of bewilderment gazed at the gray sky, seemingly wondering whether the arduous journey was truly worth it.

In the distance, collapsed thatched huts leaned crookedly, and a few commoners were tidying up the houses.

Further away, a few ragged men dragged wooden plows, moving slowly across the barren fields.

They walked in silence like walking corpses, and only the occasional dry cough from their throats proved they were still alive.

A bitter taste rose in Ji Ci's throat.

To farm, one must first solve the problem of water sources.

Yet the northern frontier was dry and lacked rain.

If one wanted an abundant water supply, the only solution was to dig canals, guiding water into the fields to irrigate the crops.

Just as Ji Ci was lost in thought, a young couple passed by her.

The man carried a shoulder pole, with a few tattered clothes on one end and a three-or-four-year-old child sitting on the other.

The child was so thin it was nothing but skin and bones, yet its eyes were shockingly large, staring blankly ahead without crying or making a fuss.

Following behind them, a woman clutched half a piece of moldy bran cake, occasionally breaking off a tiny bit to stuff into the child's mouth while not even daring to lick her own fingers.

Zhao Qiaofeng gently tugged at Ji Ci's sleeve: "Sister-in-law, with all these people coming over, won't Cousin's burden be too heavy? If your funds are not enough, my father left me some family property, and I can give all of it to you, Sister-in-law."

Ji Ci shook her head: "It's enough. Keep your money for your dowry."

Ji Ci waved her hand, and the lads immediately parked the carts, set up a sunshade, and began beating a bronze gong.

"Everyone come over to collect your grain! Everyone gets a share, line up properly and don't push!"

The shouts drifted away on the wind.

The commoners who had arrived earlier were already familiar with the process and lined up orderly with their grain sacks.

In these past few days, they had cleared a considerable amount of wasteland, and once it was tilled, they could plant crops.

The mere thought that the wasteland they cleared would belong entirely to them and that they only needed to hand over half of the harvest filled them with boundless energy.

In other prefectures, after toiling for a full year and paying all the exorbitant taxes, the grain they were left with was not even enough to make up one percent.

The grain seeds provided by Lord Xin He were large and plump, and the yield would certainly surpass their own seeds.

The newly arrived refugees heard the shouting, and a spark of light instantly appeared in their eyes as they gathered around.

Xin Tian shouted loudly, "New folks line up over here! Lord Xin He has ordered an extra bag of grain for each person!"

As his words fell, many commoners dropped to their knees and began kowtowing.

Some even started weeping bitterly, burying their faces in their hands.

Ji Ci could not bear to watch; she turned away, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

The commoners were orderly. Although Xin Tian and Xin Di were children, they handled matters with seasoned composure, and anyone who violated the rules would immediately have their grain collection qualification revoked.

Zhao Qiaofeng stood to the side lending a hand, bustling about like a spinning top.

Seeing more and more people arriving, Ji Ci felt she could not keep supporting the commoners for free indefinitely.

She took out a charcoal pencil and scribbled on a piece of paper.

There were definitely imperial spies mixed among the refugees; she wasn't afraid of them inciting the commoners, but she worried about them making trouble in the shadows.

Standing on higher ground, Ji Ci called out in a loud voice, "Starting today, every household must send one man to follow Lord Xin He to dig canals, while the rest must go out every day to clear wasteland. The men will clear the land, the women will plant crops, and the children will be responsible for dropping the seeds."

"Those who work will get two steamed buns for every meal, and those who do not work will not be sheltered here. You may go into the city yourselves to find odd jobs."

Many people began to murmur softly, having assumed they could get free meals here without doing any work.

"Lord Xin He said we would be fed here, which is why we came."

One man took the lead in protesting.

"Then did Lord Xin He also say we need to farm and clear wasteland? The Lord wants to relieve the suffering of the commoners, not support parasites! Every grain of rice you eat was grown through the back-breaking labor of others. Why should anyone feed you for free?!"

Ji Ci retorted instantly, glaring with unkind eyes at the man in the crowd.

She had noticed this man many times—his skin was delicate, he did no work, he drank thin rice gruel all day, and yet he was still picky and complaining!

"That's right! The grain we grew with our own sweat and blood—why should you get to eat it for free? If you want to eat, you have to work. That's the principle my mother taught me!"

A burly man immediately chimed in.

"Exactly! You came to Lord Xin He's place yet still want to act like a parasite? You might as well go to the capital."

"There are plenty of high-ranking officials and nobles in the capital. Whatever leftovers they casually toss you would be enough to feed you for a whole day."

The commotion in the crowd gradually subsided.

Yet a man in green robes kept his eyes fixed on Ji Ci's direction, his fingers repeatedly rubbing something hidden inside his sleeve.

Ji Ci's peripheral vision swept past him, and the corners of her mouth curved imperceptibly—the fish was finally about to take the bait.

In the distance, Dongfang Jibai stood with Wang Feng, watching quietly.

He gazed at the busy, petite figure in the crowd, feeling a mix of heartache and pride.

Clearly, she could have just given orders for others to handle it, but she insisted on doing everything personally, determined to ferret out the spies with her own hands.

So be it, let her do as she pleased; after all, Yanmen Prefecture was already firmly within his control.