Chapter Twelve: Building Terraced Fields

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Fang Li said, “Qingxue, they are our blood relatives, after all. The rebellion has only just been brought under control, and rebel factions still remain in various regions. If we do this, I’m afraid malicious people will use it to slander us.”

“Have people spread the word that Fang Han and I have a poor relationship, and that, out of jealousy, he volunteered to request governance of the Southern Frontier. At the same time, spread the rumor that Fang Han is part of the rebel faction and went to the Southern Frontier because he was afraid that staying in the capital would expose him.”

After Fang Han finished speaking, Eunuch Gao remained unmoved beside him.

Lin Qingxue shouted angrily, “What are you still standing there for? Didn’t you hear what A-Li said?”

Eunuch Gao took a long, meaningful look at Fang Li. Seeing the faint upward curve at the corner of Fang Li’s mouth, he answered, “Yes, Your Highness,” then rose and left.

...

The following morning passed without incident.

Fang Han had slept unusually well. As soon as he woke, he heard that the other group, which had gone out to buy grain seeds, had returned.

Liu San hurried back in a panic, accompanied by another man.

“My lord, we found him! We found him!”

By the time he reached Fang Han, Liu San was gasping for breath. It took him the better part of a quarter of an hour to recover.

“My lord, Old Wu used to be the blacksmith in the city. When the warfare began, he hid in the mountains.”

Fang Han looked at the old man before him. Though aged, he still appeared vigorous and strong.

In this era, blacksmiths were of vital importance. For any warlord carving out his own territory, having no blacksmith meant having no weapons.

Having no skilled blacksmith meant having no good weapons.

Thus, it was common knowledge that anyone raising an army would first seize the blacksmiths.

The Southern Frontier had been ravaged by war for years. Fang Han had assumed there were no blacksmiths left for him to use, but unexpectedly, they had found one hiding in the mountains.

“My lord, Old Wu and I have known each other for years. He has no other talents, but he is excellent at forging iron.”

The blacksmith, Old Wu, thumped his chest and said in a deep, resonant voice, “My lord, as long as you give me enough to eat, I can forge anything—knives, spears, iron armor, whatever you need.”

“Anything?” Fang Han looked at him with some disbelief.

He would have believed the man if he had been talking about forging swords and other weapons.

But armor was military equipment, normally controlled by the army’s blacksmiths.

For a civilian blacksmith to claim he could make it was, to put it mildly, somewhat hard to believe.

Seeing that the lord did not trust him, Old Wu said, “My lord, just bring me a sample. I guarantee I can forge it.”

Fang Han took out the blueprints for an improved water plow and asked, “Can you make this?”

Old Wu accepted the plans and examined them carefully, his brows alternately knitting and relaxing.

Before long, he burst into laughter. “My lord, I understand now. Just provide me with the iron, and I will have it forged within three days.”

“Three days?” Fang Han’s tone turned displeased. He could wait, but the planting season could not.

If one water plow took three days to forge, then ten would take thirty days.

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By the time they were finished, the planting season would have long since passed.

“My lord, the first one takes longer because I’m unfamiliar with it. Once I gain experience, I can make one a day. If the design can be reduced in size, I could make one in half a day.”

“All right, all right. Three days it is.” Fang Han sighed helplessly.

At present, apart from Old Wu, there was no other blacksmith available to him.

As for reducing the proportions of the water plow, that was essentially impossible.

If the design were scaled down and the terraces became too shallow, the resulting reduction in the harvest would make the effort counterproductive.

One every three days was a little slow, but it was still better than having none at all.

With Old Wu given his orders, Fang Han had Fang Da bring over the iron. Old Wu began forging within the Protectorate’s residence.

“Fang Shou, prepare a carriage. We’re leaving the city.”

Hearing that Fang Han intended to leave, Liu San could not help asking, “My lord, what are you going out there for? You can remain at the residence. Whatever you need done, just send a servant.”

Fang Han rolled his eyes. He would have liked nothing more than to rest, but this matter required his personal attention.

They needed to build the terraces.

In his previous life, Fang Han had been born a farmer and had done plenty of farm work as a child, especially growing rice.

He was not an expert, but he was still far more knowledgeable than these backward people of the Great Zhou Dynasty.

The Southern Frontier already possessed the rudimentary beginnings of terraced fields, but they were no more than beginnings.

When cultivating terraces on a mountainside, the slope, the height, and even the openings for releasing water were all crucial.

If even one part was handled poorly, the harvest could be reduced.

That was why he intended to supervise the work personally this time.

Still, Liu San’s words reminded him of something.

“Liu San, bring several clever men with you. Learn everything from this official. In the future, they will be responsible for growing the grain.”

When Liu San heard that they would be planting grain, he was astonished.

He had never imagined that the honorable Protector-General himself knew how to grow crops.

He immediately bowed respectfully. “Rest assured, my lord. I will make certain they learn properly.”

When Lin Qingwei heard that they were leaving the city—and going into the mountains—she appeared extremely pleased.

She had long heard that the mountains contained many medicinal plants. Perhaps they might find something capable of treating her illness.

She immediately instructed her maid, “Hongye, bring two people with you. Once we enter the mountains, collect a leaf from every kind of plant you see.”

After the carriage was prepared, Fang Han and Lin Qingwei sat inside. Outside, elite soldiers led by Fang Shou served as their escort.

Lin Qingwei lifted the curtain with a strip of paper and gazed outside excitedly.

Fang Han could not help asking, “Why are you so happy today? Would you like to go outside and walk around?”

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At the mention of going outside, Lin Qingwei immediately shook her head. She never wanted to spend all day wearing a bamboo hat again.

“No. I’m fine in here.”

Seeing this, Fang Han said nothing more. Before long, the carriage arrived at the place he had marked.

He stepped down and looked at the undulating mountain slopes, nodding with satisfaction.

Although the site was somewhat far from the river at the foot of the mountain, the slope was perfectly suited for terraced fields.

At worst, they could build a large reservoir beside the terraces to store water.

Liu San came over to Fang Han, followed by several servants whose faces were alight with excitement.

Upon hearing that they would be building fields and growing grain on the mountain, they were all as fired up as if they had been injected with stimulants.

Liu San glanced at the river in the distance and furrowed his brows slightly. “My lord, this place is rather far from the river. I’m afraid drawing water will be difficult.”

“I know,” Fang Han replied calmly.

“Fang Yuan, map the surrounding terrain.”

Like Fang Da and Fang Shou, Fang Yuan was an elite soldier.

Unlike them, however, he had once been a scout. Throughout the journey to the Southern Frontier, he had been responsible for surveying the terrain.

The scouts now under Fang Han’s command were led by Fang Yuan.

Upon receiving the order, Fang Yuan immediately rushed down the slope to investigate and measure the area. In less than half an hour, he had mapped the surrounding terrain.

Fang Han studied the topographical map and began drawing the layout of the terraces. At the same time, he ordered the accompanying men to clear the weeds from the hillside.

Just as Fang Han was completely absorbed in drawing the plans, someone suddenly cried out.

“My lord! My lord!”

Before Fang Han could go and investigate, the man came running over with something he had dug up in his arms.

“My lord, look at this.”

Fang Han took the object from his hands and could not help staring in surprise.

The fellow had actually dug up a ginseng root. What an unexpected discovery.

He had Liu San put the ginseng away, then smiled. “When we return, go to the Protectorate’s residence and collect your reward.”

After this brief interlude, the men clearing the weeds instantly became excited. Each hoped to be the next lucky one.

Unfortunately, even after the entire hillside had been cleared, no one else had such good fortune.

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