Chapter 67: Why did the refugees choose to flee to Linzhong?
Fang Yilan had just returned from the military camp. When she looked up, she saw Yuan Qingjun walking quickly through the moon-shaped door with her skirt lifted up. Her usually neat bun had a few strands of black hair loose, and her steps were hurried.
"Sister Qingyun..." She had just begun to speak when the crisp sound of brass buckles clashing against each other on a medicine chest behind her cut her off. Fang Yicen, carrying a sandalwood medical chest, turned around the corridor and abruptly stopped when he caught sight of her.
"Brother?" Fang Yilan looked at him suspiciously. Fang Yicen paused and subconsciously raised his hand to touch the bridge of his nose, a little trick he had done since he got into trouble as a child.
Yuan Qingjun's figure quickly disappeared in the courtyard. Fang Yi hurriedly quickened his pace to catch up with her, passing by Fang Yilan, leaving only a confused person behind him.
"What are you looking at? Are you so engrossed?"
Warm breath brushed the back of her neck, and Zhao Huaixu easily blocked Fang Yilan's backhand elbow. His fingertips slid along the back of her hand, touching her wrist. The chill made her wince. "Are you a cat? You walk without making any sound..."
Zhao Huaixu smiled, letting go of his hand, and asked, "What's wrong with your brother? Why does half of his face look a little swollen?"
"Sister Qingjun's eyes are as red as a rabbit's. I feel like something has happened between them..." She suddenly fell silent, looking at her shining eyes reflected in the other person's suddenly dilated pupils.
The conversation stopped abruptly. Fang Yilan suddenly leaned in close to him and lowered her voice, "Could it be that my brother kissed someone and got beaten up?"
Zhao Huaixu gently scratched the tip of her nose with his finger, his movements as gentle as if he were teasing a kitten: "Has our General Fang become a little matchmaker now?"
"I'm just worried that those two stubborn guys might mess things up because of their bad tempers." Fang Yilan sighed, "Who else would worry about them besides me?"
Before he finished speaking, his shoulders suddenly felt heavy.
Zhao Huaixu pretended to be aggrieved and rested his chin on Fang Yilan's shoulder: "Alan, instead of thinking about this, why don't you be more considerate of Yu'an?"
"Why are you so disgusting!" Fang Yilan's ears burned from being rubbed by him. She grabbed the young man's collar and pretended to be arrogant, but her tone was still a little weak. "Am I not good enough to you normally?"
Zhao Huaixu straightened up upon hearing this, raised an eyebrow, and asked, "What do you think? The town refused to take me with them, and they didn't take me with them when they went to the village to collect grain. And who said they would accompany me a few days ago, only to abandon me when they got busy?"
"Don't talk nonsense! In the end, you dragged me away anyway..." Fang Yilan retorted without giving any explanation.
But she was also shocked to realize that with so many things going on in the past half month, she really hadn't cared much about Zhao Huaixu. She turned her eyes away guiltily, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the silver thread on the other's cuffs.
"Ahem...it's even darker and the dew is heavier..." She dragged him back to the inner room, "It's time to rest."
Zhao Huaixu let her pull him, pressing forward with a smile on his lips.
The door creaked shut, and Fang Yilan suddenly felt a loosening of the waist. "Zhao Huaixu, what are you talking about?"
Zhao Huaixu held her wrists with one hand and lifted them above her head, while with his other hand he slowly opened Fang Yilan's collar: "Didn't you just say you would love me?" He placed a scorching kiss on her neck, whispering vaguely: "Tonight, let's see how it hurts, Alan..."
Fang Yilan pulled out a hand to cover his offending lips, but her fingertips touched a wet tongue. "Are you born in the Year of the Dog?" She had just pulled her hand back when Zhao Huaixu grabbed her by the waist. The room was dark, and she had no idea how he had managed to push her onto the couch.
Zhao Huaixu then bit her earlobe, chuckled, and said, "Woof."
"Hey, you... uh..."
…
The sky was bright with light, and Fang Yilan was struggling on the edge of a dream with his eyelids stung by the morning light, when bad news came from the army.
Xiling raised an army again to attack the northwest. Without the guard of the northwest army, the city gates were broken and the people were displaced. They had no choice but to leave their homes and move south. However, the remaining unbroken city gates in the northwest were locked and did not let the refugees enter the city at all. The people had no choice but to rush towards Linzhong.
Lu Qi also hurried to the military camp, his face terribly gloomy, his voice filled with grief and indignation: "The five cities on the northwest border have all been destroyed. The Xiling Army carried out a massacre last night. The refugee tide will reach Linzhong by noon tomorrow at the latest."
Fang Yilan was somewhat puzzled and asked, "Why would they choose to go so far away instead of near? To escape to Linzhong?"
Lieutenant General Lin slammed his fist down on the elm table. "Those Ruining bastards, upon learning of Xiling's movements, would have sealed the city gates!"
“How many refugees are there?”
"About 10,000 people, 60% of whom are elderly and weak."
"We've already received a batch of food and fodder from the Poyue Chamber of Commerce, which will be enough for our soldiers to eat until the beginning of next spring." Lu Qi interrupted, "But if there are ten thousand more mouths to feed..."
Zhao Huaixu frowned slightly, feeling troubled: "If we take them all in, how can we accommodate so many people?"
Fang Yilan walked to the map, stared at a certain spot, and then said, "I remember there's a large piece of land south of the city, but no one is cultivating it?"
"General, please think twice," Lieutenant General Wang said anxiously. "The south of the city is a full three miles from the river, and it takes a young man half a day to carry water back and forth. During the spring drought last year, an old farmer without land tried to transport water using a wooden wheelbarrow, but it was simply too much."
Lu Qi added, "The grain produced by the fertile land along the river is enough for the people of Linzhong to sustain themselves and sell. The taxes are too high, and cultivating more land is not a good deal for them."
Fang Yilan sighed, "If we don't take them in, who else would be willing to take them in... They can only wait to die outside the city."
She paced a few times before finally stopping. "Send two teams to the south of the city to build huts for the refugees to temporarily shelter. Then write a notice and post it outside the city. Tell the refugees that anyone willing to reclaim wasteland will receive four hu of millet per day, but after the autumn, they must pay 60% of that grain and be sent into the army."
"How do we solve the water problem?" Lieutenant General Lin couldn't help but ask.
Zhao Huaixu picked up the teapot and refilled the teapot for everyone. He smiled and said, "Last year, when Xiling besieged Zeyang City, the people donated stone mills to block the city gates. Earlier, during a heavy rainstorm, merchants in Wenbin used sandbags to block the gates, but they still opened their businesses as usual."
Fang Yilan exchanged a smile with him and said, "The common people naturally have their own solutions. Why should we, who hold swords, teach those who hold hoes how to survive?"
Lu Qi nodded in praise, "General, you're absolutely right. The Northwest is already short of water, and they've long been accustomed to carrying water for irrigation. I'm sure they'll come up with a solution."
As soon as the notice was posted, the noise from under the city wall almost overturned the gray bricks.
The civil servant stumbled back half a step, holding the list in his hand high. "Fellow elders, please don't push! Line up and come one by one."
Unfortunately, his voice was drowned out by the crowd. The refugees pushed and shoved each other, fearing that they would not be able to register if they arrived too late.
Fang Yilan stood on the city wall, overlooking the surging crowd below the city. He happened to see a lame old man being pushed down, with the back of his head hitting the gravel road hard. However, the crowd behind him seemed to be completely unaware of it and even stepped on him. His skinny body was lost in the noisy crowd and could not be seen.
Fang Yilan could only snatch the gong from the waist of his personal soldier and smash it three times. The crowd finally quieted down, and everyone looked up at the woman on the city wall.
The guards took the opportunity to push through the crowd and helped the old man up.
The old man who was helped up was breathing heavily like a broken bellows, and blood was oozing from the cut on his forehead, staining half of his gray beard red.
Fang Yilan ordered people to carry him away and send him to the city for treatment.
Suddenly, a shrill voice jumped out from the crowd and shouted, "Why can he go directly into the city?"
Zhuang Gu unsheathed his sword with a clang, cursing, "How dare you be so disrespectful to the general!"
"That's a good question." Fang Yilan sneered and tossed the gong to his guards: "You guys earned this opportunity with your own feet."
The crowd became noisy again and started crying and shouting.
"General, save us!"
"We didn't notice anyone falling either. It's none of our business."
Fang Yilan turned a deaf ear and shouted, "Line up and register one by one. Those who push or shove will have their rations for three days deducted. Those who injure others will be expelled thirty miles. Those who cut in line will be escorted and detained. The rest will be registered."
A few hooligans were trying to cut in line when no one was paying attention, knocking the woman holding the baby to the ground. The Fang family soldiers noticed and immediately ran over them, handcuffing the man's arms behind his back.
The man continued to struggle in defiance, veins popping out on the side of his neck. "Let me in first! How can these women do farm work? I can do more than them!"
Fang Yilan held a stack of wooden signs in her hand, and said with an unchanging expression, "We don't lack people who can do the work, but we lack people who can listen to moving words and follow the rules. Do you understand?"
"Next."
The refugees were frightened by Fang Yilan's decisive behavior and began to line up obediently.
"What's your name? Where are you from?" The registrar's voice gradually became rhythmic.
The refugees who received the wooden plaques felt the concave and convex engravings. Some of them suddenly knelt down and kowtowed towards the city wall, while others tightly grasped the wooden plaques against their hearts, as if they were holding a talisman to bring them back to life.
"Those who receive the wooden sign, follow me." The young soldier led a group of people towards the south of the city.
The smoke from the wasteland has risen, and an iron pot is boiling on a stove made of rocks. The fireman is stirring the rice porridge with a wooden spoon, and the steam mixed with wood smoke drifts over the people in line.
A man with an open chest was drinking hot porridge and sighed, "You know what, this porridge is so thick that you can stand your chopsticks upright. This female general is so much better than the emperor who is so high and mighty..."
His companions hurriedly covered his mouth and said, "Are you looking for death? Keep your voice down! You are insulting the emperor. Do you want to live?"
The man with his arms and legs slapped his thigh and laughed wildly: "Coward! The Fang family has rebelled, and we are no longer standing on the land of the Ruining Emperor!"
A few days later, Fang Yilan rode her horse past the newly built thatched hut. The scene before her made her slightly stunned. She found that the refugees who were still fighting yesterday were now working in the fields in an orderly manner like a well-trained colony of ants.
Hundreds of figures densely packed the fields, bent over, shoveling as they rose and fell, each humming the same Northwestern tune. A few men were on the thatched roof, laying bricks and tiles. The women were also busy, cooking over fires, smoke rising from their kitchens. Others were returning home carrying wooden basins, laden with washed laundry.
Three hundred steps away, several crooked ditches were slowly extending towards the south of the city.
"Someone come here and help me check the waterline!" The burly man with a face covered in dirt suddenly shouted.
"I'll do it!" The blacksmith heard the shout, threw down the half-broken hoe in his hand, and ran quickly towards the strong man.
Fang Yilan turned her horse around silently. She didn't need to read on.
The accounts that the clerks could never settle were quietly growing roots and veins between the old farmer's cracked fingers, in the woman's blistered palms, and in the humming of the men as they moved gravel.
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