He suddenly laughed: "I'm already in Qingzhou, what other clear path could I possibly take?"
"Smart people are so decisive!" Jiang Le flipped down from the beam, his dagger slamming into the table.
"Her Majesty is currently building factories and providing disaster relief, and she is in dire need of scholars like you."
Ling Xian's pupils contracted slightly. He should have expected this; these brothers could always come and go freely in the military camp, those mysteriously disappearing recruits, and the Liangzhou Mountain God Temple...
Why did you choose me?
“Because you still have the people in your heart.” Jiang Dashan took out a bamboo scroll from his bosom. “This is the account book of Qingzhou Factory last month. The Empress said that you will understand after reading it.”
The bamboo slips were unfolded, the ink still fresh. They contained detailed records of the number of disaster victims aided by each factory, as well as the amount of grain and silk distributed to the elderly and widowed.
Of course, what alarmed him the most was that the factory established by the Mountain Goddess had already taken in tens of thousands of disaster victims!
So many people work in the factory, they get paid, they can eat three meals a day, and they get all sorts of benefits every month!
This kind of job has better benefits than some low-ranking officials; even strategists would be tempted by it.
The last line of small print made Ling Xian's fingers tremble slightly: "Work relief in lieu of aid, so that the people have something to rely on."
Suddenly, a commotion arose outside the tent. A soldier shouted, "The general is drunk!" followed by the sound of a wine jar being smashed.
Ling Xian looked towards the main tent and vaguely saw the hero who once led the disaster victims to storm the government granary, now a drunken brute lying in a wine vat.
"I pledge my allegiance to the Mountain Goddess." He turned and bowed deeply towards the desolate mountain.
The Jiang brothers exchanged a smile.
Jiang Dashan took out a jade token from his sleeve. The front was engraved with camellia patterns, and the back had the words "Barren Mountain".
"Tomorrow at dawn, someone will be waiting for you in the west of the city. Strategist, remember to come up with a good excuse."
As the three figures disappeared into the night, Kan Dadao, inside the main tent, was clutching a wine jar and rambling incoherently: "I... hiccup... I'll go wipe out those dilapidated temples tomorrow..."
The night breeze swept through the military camp, carrying away these drunken words in the damp air of Qingzhou.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com