Chapter 10: Emphasizing Agricultural Production

After finishing her morning routine, Xing’er asked the kitchen to prepare some food. After eating, she came to the front hall and saw Deputy Prefect Cao Li sitting upright on a chair, with two attendants standing behind him.

Normally, a vice mayor would not travel with only two people; it depended on the destination. Bringing so many people to the Prince of Yan’s residence might make one think they intended to arrest the prince.

Cao Li, now Deputy Prefect, surely understood this logic. Besides, there were palace guards accompanying the prince, so his presence was more for counsel than protection.

When Zhao Bin emerged from the back room, Cao Li quickly stood and greeted him with respect: “Your servant pays respects to the Prince.”

“Lord Cao, no need for formalities,” Zhao Bin waved him off. “Have you been here long?”

“Your Highness, I just arrived not long ago,” Cao Li replied.

“Xing’er, what time is it now?” Zhao Bin glanced back at her.

“It’s already halfway through the si hour,” she answered without hesitation. In ancient timekeeping, si hour corresponds roughly to 9 to 11 a.m.; halfway through means about 10 a.m.

“It's getting late. Prepare some food and come with me. Also, have Xiao Chu arrange for fifty guards to accompany us. We’ll depart immediately,” Zhao Bin ordered.

“The prince has already prepared everything and loaded the carriage. Commander Xiao and Brother Wu are waiting outside,” Xing’er smiled.

Zhao Bin chuckled awkwardly and said, “Xing’er, I see potential in you for being a secretary.”

“Your Highness, what’s a secretary?” she asked curiously.

“Nothing,” Zhao Bin said, rising to leave. Seeing he didn’t want to elaborate, Xing’er didn’t press further.

The group proceeded grandly out of the city gate, and pedestrians all hurried out of their way. Exiting the East Gate, they traveled eastward through fields overgrown with wild grass. After five miles, not a single village appeared. The endless plain was covered with nothing but weeds. Zhao Bin felt a pang of unease.

He invited Cao Li to ride with him to learn more about the local situation.

“The main crops here are wheat, millet, and sorghum. There are also some beans and hemp, but in smaller quantities. Vegetables mainly include winter melon, chives, cabbage, and shepherd’s purse...” Cao Li detailed.

“What kind of irrigation is used?” Zhao Bin interrupted.

“Near rivers and lakes, farmers fetch water themselves. Villages far from water sources rely on rainfall; good rainy seasons yield more crops, but poor ones reduce harvests significantly.”

“Are there any water channels or canals?”

“Yancheng is barren with a sparse population. Due to northern nomadic invasions, the population sharply declined. Even if they wanted to build canals, they have no labor force,” Cao Li answered helplessly.

Traveling further east beyond the city gate, the plain remained barren with wild grass everywhere. After five miles, not a single village was in sight. Zhao Bin’s unease deepened.

“Lord Cao, why not organize the people to herd livestock on these expansive grasslands?” Zhao Bin asked.

Cao Li glanced at him. “Your Highness, after paying land taxes, the peasants have almost nothing left. They survive by digging wild vegetables and lack funds to purchase livestock.

The government collects taxes, part of which is sent to the western passes—now known as Juyong and Zijing Passes—and the remainder barely covers official expenses. There’s no surplus to buy animals.”

“Damn,” Zhao Bin cursed bitterly. “So there’s nothing at all. If not you, then find some way.”

After traveling another mile, they spotted a sparse village with twenty or thirty households.

Zhao Bin ordered the convoy towards the village. Near the fields, several naked children fled in fright upon seeing the large group, running back into the village.

Rural children, unfamiliar with the world, might have mistaken them for nomadic tribes. Zhao Bin stopped the horses and walked with a few attendants into the village.

Soon, a few elders appeared at the village entrance, wielding sticks and farming tools. The leader had lost his left arm and held an axe in his right.

Seeing the visitors were well-dressed and unlikely nomads, the elders relaxed and approached cautiously.

“Who are you, noble guests? What brings you to our village?” the leader asked slowly.

Zhao Bin made no effort to conceal his identity; he wanted all Yancheng to know the Prince of Yan had arrived. He gestured for Cao Li to speak.

“This is His Highness the Prince of Yan, and I am Cao Li, Deputy Prefect of Yancheng. Today we accompany the prince on an inspection,” Cao Li introduced.

Upon hearing this, the villagers gasped. The leader dropped his axe and knelt, “We were unaware the prince had arrived. Please forgive us.”

The others followed, dropping their weapons and kneeling.

“Please rise, elders. This is a humble village; no need for formalities,” Zhao Bin said kindly.

Relieved by his leniency, the elders stood but kept their heads lowered.

“May we come into your home for a while?” Zhao Bin asked.

The elder hesitated, then said with difficulty, “Your Highness, my home is dilapidated. I fear it would soil your clothes. Please forgive me.”

“No matter. I am here to understand the people’s hardships. Lead the way. Elders, you may come along,” Zhao Bin invited.

“Yes, Your Highness,” the elder bowed and led them in.

The village was small, with scattered thatched huts that looked shabby and worn. Zhao Bin recalled Du Fu’s poem about a thatched cottage broken by autumn winds.

After a short walk, they arrived at a fenced courtyard.

“This is my home, Your Highness. It is humble; please forgive me,” the elder said, opening the gate and stepping inside, followed by Xing’er, Wang Wu, Xiao Chu, and Cao Li.

Zhao Bin surveyed the courtyard: three thatched rooms and a dilapidated shed with burn marks on the mud walls—signs of a past fire.

Inside were discarded farming tools resembling broad shovels and pickaxes he had read about in historical texts. They looked crude and difficult to use. There was also a large wooden plow that seemed aged.

“Is this wooden plow used for spring plowing?” Zhao Bin asked.

“Yes, Your Highness. I forged this plow nearly thirty years ago when I was young,” the elder said proudly.

“It must take great effort to use such a large plow,” Zhao Bin remarked.

“It requires two people to pull in front and one to guide from behind,” the elder explained.

“Do others in the village use similar plows?” Zhao Bin inquired of the nearby elders.

One ragged elder replied wearily, “I have no plow at home and usually borrow this one during spring.”

Others nodded silently.

Zhao Bin asked about their families and land holdings.

He learned the elder’s household had five members; his wife had passed away, and his eldest son died years ago fighting nomadic invaders at the western pass. Now only the elder and his second son’s family of four remained.

The elder said he had served in the military and lost his arm in battle.

After questioning the other elders, Zhao Bin learned nearly every family had lost members to nomadic invasions or starvation, affecting all ages and strengths.

With a grave expression, Zhao Bin stood to take his leave. At the village entrance, he turned and said, “Neighbors, now that I have come, I will ensure you live better days.”

The group left the village and continued their journey, encountering two more villages with similar conditions.

By evening, they returned to the Prince’s residence. Zhao Bin sat in the hall deep in thought.

The land was vast but the population sparse; relying solely on farming could not solve the immediate problems.

The scattered villages made canal irrigation unfeasible. They needed to implement a combined farming and herding policy. To develop animal husbandry, they required livestock resources.

Only the grassland nomads possessed large herds. Buying animals would require money, but they had none. Could they trade goods instead?

Zhao Bin looked at Cao Li.

“Lord Cao?” he called.

“I am here,” Cao Li stood and approached.

“Does the court trade with the northern nomadic tribes?” Zhao Bin asked.

“The northern nomads usually raid the interior or extort supplies and money under threat of war. However, in history, strong Han dynasties deterred invasions, and nomads sought trade instead.”

“Apart from money and supplies, what do they most desire?” Zhao Bin continued.

“Besides money, they crave iron tools, essential for weapons and armor. On the grasslands, besides the Xiongnu and Jie tribes, there are many smaller clans like the Xianbei and Western Liao.

Besides suffering oppression by large tribes, these clans fight each other over pasture and water. Their smelting technology is backward, so iron is scarce.

They also highly value salt, which is absent on the grasslands. Many tribes cook or roast meat without salt.

Other goods are less important. Your Highness, do you have a plan?” Cao Li asked cautiously.

Zhao Bin nodded slowly. “Yes, I intend to trade salt and iron for their cattle and sheep.”

“But Your Highness, the salt and iron trade is controlled by powerful families. The court only collects 20-30% taxes from them. Salt and iron mines under court control are limited to Yuzhou and Jingzhou.

We have no surplus salt or iron, and the court forbids sales of salt and iron to nomads,” Cao Li explained.

“Iron may not be available soon, but salt is readily available,” Zhao Bin smiled.

“Salt? What do you mean, Your Highness?” Cao Li asked curiously.

“Three hundred miles east of Yancheng lies Jixian County, bordering the vast sea. Seawater contains salt in endless supply.”

Cao Li’s curiosity vanished instantly. “Your Highness, sea salt is not consumable as is; it would be fatal. Are you suggesting deceiving the nomads with sea salt?”

Zhao Bin was momentarily speechless—not because of Cao Li’s words but because people of this era apparently had not mastered refining sea salt.

Excited, he said, “Lord Cao, you said sea salt is inedible. Are all salts in Daxia mined or well salt?”

“Yes. The Dai family in Shu, the Zhang family in Guanzhong, and the Xue family in Chu control the largest salt mines and deposits,” Cao Li answered.

With this understanding of the salt and iron situation, Zhao Bin resolved to proceed with the salt-for-livestock plan.

“Lord Cao, I know you are a local and want to improve the people’s lives. I did not come to be a frivolous prince.

You have heard of me—a prince ousted from court politics. I cannot change the court’s affairs, but I will take care of the people of Yancheng.

There are a few tasks I need you to undertake,” Zhao Bin said firmly.

“Please command, Your Highness. I will obey,” Cao Li stood and saluted.

“First, recruit two hundred trustworthy young men. Pay ten copper coins daily for three months.

Second, prepare ten transport carriages with side panels for carrying salt. I will have Xiao Chu assign fifty guards to accompany them. In five days, take the two hundred men to Jixian’s coast to collect salt. I will instruct the guards on salt collection before departure.

Third, tomorrow arrange for several carpenters and blacksmiths to come to the palace. I have some items I want them to craft.”

“Yes, Your Highness. I will prepare immediately,” Cao Li replied.

“Xing’er, tomorrow, in the name of the palace, purchase the two houses on the west side of the palace. Assist Lord Cao in arranging for their occupants to be relocated to other city homes.

Once settled, have Chunxi build ten fire stoves and prepare ten large pots in the courtyard.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Xing’er responded.

“All right, starting tomorrow, we begin producing sea salt.”

“Yes.”

After concluding the plans, Zhao Bin wanted Cao Li to dine at the palace, but Cao Li declined politely, and Zhao Bin did not insist.