Wu Qing choked on his words. "My good lady, how could I dare?"
"All these years, Brother Hong never spoke of it, but I know how much he missed the days of commanding thousands of troops. At long last, he has the chance to be a dragon returning to the sea." A-Jin let out a breath. "I've dragged him down long enough. I cannot hold him back again and again. If you refuse to give it to me, I'll pester you every single day."
Wu Qing hesitated in place for a long time before finally giving in with a helpless sigh. "Fine, fine. I'll get it for you. Just don't let it slip."
When the grain transport convoy reached Xinhuang, the setting sun had already dipped to the mountain peaks, about to sink out of sight at any moment.
The timing could not have been better.
Xinhuang was only a small town of about a thousand souls. When the hundreds of supply wagons rumbled in, they took up every open patch of ground on the west side of town. Between the corvée laborers and the armed escort, their numbers surpassed the town's entire population.
After marching the entire day, both men and mounts were exhausted. The moment they halted, everyone needed food, drink, and rest, throwing the entire town into frantic disarray.
A small place had limited capacity to receive guests, so word of the grain convoy's imminent arrival had to be sent more than ten shichen in advance to allow the townsfolk time to prepare. Only then could the horse troughs be filled with fresh water, the fodder for the oxen and horses de-rooted and sifted of dirt, and hot food readied for the men.
When people were tired and starving, nothing comforted the heart more than a piping-hot meal. Though the laborers received nothing more than coarse-grain steamed buns, at least they were served steaming hot, with a dab of fermented bean paste to dip into.
The soldiers received an extra portion of stewed beans, and some even got pickled cabbage to sandwich inside their buns.
Dressed in plain clothes, He Chunhua and his son dismounted and handed their steeds over to the personal guards. He Lingchuan wore only ordinary armor.
Though Xinhuang had hosted supply convoys many times before, its capacity was ultimately limited. As He Chunhua inspected the troops having their meal, he frequently saw disarray and shortages.
The only thing that brought him comfort was that the military physicians followed orders conscientiously. Spot checks on the food and water for both men and beasts had revealed no poison or abnormalities.
In truth, the soldiers possessed origin power, giving them far greater resistance to ordinary poisons. Those truly vulnerable were merely the laborers and livestock. But He Chunhua was meticulous, terrified that enemies might play dirty in the shadows. He insisted on poison-testing without wearying of the trouble—after all, if an enemy slipped croton seed powder into the water and rations, wouldn't men and beasts be plagued by explosive diarrhea all along the road?
After two laps around the camp, He Lingchuan clutched his stomach and whined, "Dad, isn't it time we ate?" Food was life—if he didn't eat soon, he'd starve.
The medicine ape, by contrast, scarfed down the coarse buns without the slightest complaint, while the rock wolf had its own ration, never shortchanged. Only on the road had He Lingchuan discovered that it could also eat apples and coarse grains!
He Chunhua pointed at the buns. "How about a couple?"
"We've eaten these the entire way. Haven't you had enough?" He Lingchuan's eyes darted around. "Dad, didn't you want to observe the common people's plight? What can you learn holed up with the army? We should head into town, eat something, and look around as we go."
He Chunhua smiled wryly. "Fair enough."
Just then, the county magistrate arrived to invite the commanders of the escort, having reserved tables at the town's tavern to host a welcome banquet for them.
Xinhuang fell under the jurisdiction of Baiyun County, and the county yamen was not located here, but the arrival of the supply convoy was a matter of paramount importance, so the magistrate had rushed over regardless.
He Chunhua traveled light on this northern journey to inspect conditions among the populace without drawing attention to himself. As a result, the nominal chief commander of the transport was Mozhe Jingxuan, his former aide and now the Mounted Escort Officer of Xiazhou.
Upon receiving the magistrate's invitation, Mozhe Jingxuan gladly accepted. A modest place like this wouldn't boast gourmet fare, but meat and dishes meant for honoring distinguished guests would surely be plentiful. While he feasted at the tavern, He Chunhua had to see to his own dinner.
The father and son quietly slipped out of camp without the two demons, followed by Maotao, Shan Youjun, and Jiao Tai.
The town was tiny. Counting houses, sheds, and shops, there were barely over two hundred buildings in all. The main street ran for a mere hundred meters, easily traversed in just a few strides. The air was thick with dust, and the buildings were all a drab, muted gray.
The town had only one tavern, which the county magistrate had reserved to entertain Mozhe Jingxuan, so father and son had no desire to head that way.
After walking a circle, they found very few shops and scarce pedestrians, yet queues had formed wherever there was a water well. Seeing his father's grim expression, He Lingchuan asked, "What is it?"
"It's pitch-black; hardly any households have lit their lamps." Lamp oil and candles cost money—how could the poor bear the expense? In Dunyu, people at least waited until after mealtime to extinguish their lamps, whereas the folk here likely ate early and went to bed as soon as darkness fell.
"The people here are too poor."
He Chunhua sighed, a worried look crossing his face. "The further north we go, the worse it gets."
Only on this journey did he realize that Dunyu was dozens of times wealthier than the surrounding regions! The further north they traveled, the poorer the commoners were, the fewer the households, the more barren the fields, the more corrupt the governance, and the more desolate the people's livelihoods.
He had seen destitute peasants with straw markers in their hair selling their sons and daughters in the marketplace, boasting to every passerby how little their children ate and how hard they worked, desperately begging someone to buy them. The entire family would be gaunt and emaciated, and the child being sold would stare blankly, devoid of emotion.
He had even heard townsfolk speak of soldiers slaughtering innocent civilians to claim military merits. The chaos and signs of decline were nothing short of appalling.
Poverty bred chaos.
There was no doubt that if he wished to govern Xiazhou well, he had a long, arduous road ahead.
"Dad, save your worries for the country and the people until after you've eaten," He Lingchuan said, pointing ahead. "How about this place?"
A diner ahead glowed with lamplight, wafting the aroma of cooking food.
Three horses were tethered outside.
Only then did He Chunhua notice his stomach rumbling. "Let's go in."
Pushing aside the windbreak curtain, they stepped inside. The eatery was crude, its tables and chairs worn and rickety, but fortunately it was spacious enough to accommodate seven or eight square tables. A table of diners was currently eating.
The five of them sat down, and Maotao called out, "Shopkeeper, bring us some food!"
The proprietor wore a miserable grimace. "We only have sour noodles and mixed-grain steamed buns."
He Lingchuan had already noticed diners at other tables slurping up noodles and swallowed his saliva. "Bring it all! If you have toppings, pile them on!"
It was almost all pre-made. Within half an incense stick's time, five large bowls were set before them.
This bowl of sour noodles consisted of nothing more than three items: thick noodles, pickled cabbage, and roasted peanuts.
The region produced mung beans, so the noodles were made of bean starch. The cabbage, pickled through half the winter, was sour enough to season the noodles on its own, rendering rare luxuries like vinegar entirely unnecessary.
As for the peanuts, they were merely roasted dry over the fire; one couldn't even dream of the extravagance of deep-frying. The entire bowl bore not a shred of meat, nor even a glint of oil.
Starving as they were, they took up their chopsticks and slurped away, finding it surprisingly satisfying.
Maotao glanced at the other tables, followed their lead, and asked for several heads of raw garlic. Everyone took a slurp of noodles followed by a bite of garlic—sour, spicy, and sharp.
It hit the spot!
The eatery also served poached dough slice soup—plain dough sheets boiled in clear water with two strands of pickled cabbage and a few beans, accompanied by a small dish of bean paste to dip the mixed-grain buns into.
Because there was no meat or grease, He Lingchuan still felt empty inside after polishing off a big bowl of sour noodles, so he ordered two more bowls of poached dough soup and four large buns.
Cheap though the prices were, it didn't seem like something the locals could afford on a regular basis.
As he ate, He Chunhua asked the proprietor, "Do you usually have business here?"
The shopkeeper waved a hand dismissively. "Make money? Not a copper!"
Maotao chimed in, "This is the thoroughfare between north and south. I've seen some merchant caravans passing through. It must be better than those interior villages." Those places were truly destitute, where folk practically ate dirt.
The shopkeeper looked disgusted. "Taxes and rent are through the roof! Any money made goes straight to others—straight to the officials!"
He Chunhua asked, "How much do you pay in taxes and rent?" Taxes and rent were unavoidable burdens when running a shop.
"Out of every ten coppers I make, I have to hand over eight. What kind of profit is that?" Stirring the soup, the shopkeeper gave a self-deprecating laugh. "It's barely enough to keep food on the table so I don't have to sell my little girl."
A diner at the neighboring table suddenly chimed in. "Don't listen to him whine. Others couldn't even keep a shop open if they tried. Today, when that huge contingent arrived, all the water carts in the entire town were commandeered for them, leaving the rest of us without a drop. Look at the lines at every well! But him? He's got his own well in back, and no one dares compete with him for it."
If selling noodles could at least put food on the table, why didn't others do it?
He Lingchuan wanted to smile wryly, but found he couldn't.
The table held three guests, all dressed as traveling merchants. He Chunhua asked them, "What line of trade are you gentlemen in?"
"Cloth, lamp oil, that sort of thing. On the return trip, we take some local specialties back to sell."
All essential goods. "How is business?"
The three men sighed. "Terrible, terrible. Not even forty percent of previous years. We won't be coming back next year."
They looked over He Chunhua and his party, then asked, "Are you men with the army as well?"
He Chunhua denied it flatly. "We're heading north, just trailing behind the soldiers for safety."
"What's up north?"
He Chunhua answered offhandedly, "We're hoping to buy up some sugar."
Hearing this, the shopkeeper interjected, "You'd be wasting your trip. You won't find anything good."
"How so?"
"About thirty or forty years ago, Xinhuang was famous throughout Xiazhou for its brown sugar. Endless sugar beet fields surrounded the town as far as the eye could see. The town elders say brown sugar back then sold like hot cakes. The moment it was made, people from miles around scrambled to buy it, and it even sold all the way down to Dunyu."
He Chunhua gave an "Oh?" and said, "We didn't see any beet fields on our way here."
"Those have been gone for ages! Nowadays, more than half of Xiazhou uses yellow sugar from the northern demon kingdom. They say it's one of the terms agreed upon between our Great Yuan and the demon kingdom—we have to buy hundreds of thousands of jin of sugar from them every year. Ai!"
He Lingchuan said, "I've tasted it. It's delicious and keeps for a long time."
Young Master He had never tasted brown sugar at all. Whether in Shihuan or Dunyu, all the pastries he ate were made with yellow sugar; in Blackwater City, he had eaten local crude sugar.
"Aye, and yellow sugar isn't expensive either. Ever since then, Xinhuang's brown sugar couldn't find buyers. Gradually, folks stopped making sugar and switched to growing grain, but this soil doesn't yield good crops."
The merchant at the neighboring table joined in. "You have no idea how formidable the northern demon kingdom is. They produce tens of millions of jin of sugar every single year!"
The shopkeeper said indignantly, "Infuriating, that's what it is!"
Right at that moment, Shan Youjun slapped He Lingchuan hard on the shoulder and said in an audible voice, "Hey, I'm stuffed! I need to find a place to take a dump. You coming or what?"
He normally never showed such disrespect toward his superiors. He Lingchuan blinked. "Let's go."
Chapter 255