NOVEL NEXT Ch. 12
Chapter 12: Harvest
In the ten eastern counties under Anxi Prefecture, the two that still wavered in allegiance were Luntai County and Kuqa County.
Both were located in the southern part of Anxi Prefecture, adjacent to the southern Tianwu Plateau.
Within their territories lay many mines rich in iron, yet the land was barren and crop yields were exceedingly low.
In previous years, they could barely sustain themselves by trading iron goods for grain with neighboring counties.
But now, with wars erupting everywhere and grain prices soaring, even if they emptied their prefectural treasuries, they could no longer procure enough food.
Winter was approaching, and both county governors were frowning in despair.
Luntai County, County Governor’s Residence.
“Bang!”
The Luntai County Governor slammed his palm on the desk, shaking the teacup until it toppled and spilled tea all over the floor.
“Trash! Three thousand sets of fine steel armor, and this is all the grain you brought back?”
Several clerks below were silent as cicadas in winter, foreheads pressed to the ground, not daring to lift their heads.
The County Governor laughed in fury, pointing at them as he cursed, “If it were only the commoners starving, that’d be one thing—but now even the Luntai Army cannot fill their stomachs! If the enemy strikes while we’re weak, how will you defend the city?”
After venting, he took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his anger, and said solemnly, “Stand up. Let us discuss countermeasures.”
A registrar trembled as he spoke, “My Lord, our county currently has twenty thousand Luntai soldiers and eight hundred twenty-one thousand commoners. To last until next spring, we will need at least eight million shi of grain. But counting both the prefectural granary and private stores, we only have a total of five million shi...”
Before he could finish, the County Governor’s face had already turned iron-blue.
“Three million short?” He sneered coldly. “Then tell me, how many people do you think that means must starve?”
The hall fell into dead silence.
At the same time, in the Kuqa County Governor’s residence, the atmosphere was equally heavy.
Yet unlike Luntai, Kuqa’s Governor already had a “plan.”
He turned toward the Kuqa General seated above, his face plastered with a sycophantic smile.
“General, if we still fail to gather enough grain before the roads freeze over... I’m afraid we’ll have to trouble you and your men.”
At those words, the officials in the hall all lowered their heads, not daring to meet the General’s eyes.
The Kuqa General gave a cold laugh, casually picking up a pear from the table. He bit into it, juice running down the corner of his mouth.
He chewed slowly, as though savoring some delicacy, not discussing a matter of life and death.
“Heh, my Kuqa County does not feed useless people.”
Swallowing the fruit, he said indifferently, “Those lowborn commoners have eaten so much of my grain and yet show no gratitude. What use are they alive?”
He had long since stepped into the Divine Power Realm over two hundred years ago and regarded himself as transcendent. In his eyes, mortals were nothing more than ants.
Suddenly, his gaze turned cold as he fixed upon the official in charge of grain affairs. “However, tell me—why has this year’s harvest failed?”
That official trembled all over, cold sweat dripping from his forehead, stammering without being able to utter a full word.
The General narrowed his eyes. “Since you failed your duty, then from now on... you won’t need to eat either.”
Before the last word faded—
A flash of cold light!
“Puchi—”
The official’s head flew high into the air, rolling across the floor as blood splattered everywhere.
All the officials bowed their heads lower still, barely daring to breathe, as the General’s footsteps slowly receded.
Yet just as he was about to step across the threshold, he suddenly paused.
“Oh, right.”
Without turning his head, he asked coldly, “Didn’t Yili County send us grain every year? Why did it stop this time?”
No one answered.
The Kuqa General’s tone turned icy. “Are you all deaf?”
The County Governor shuddered and quickly said, “General! The year before last, the Prefect of Anxi ordered you to send reinforcements—but you... refused.”
The General frowned slightly, as though recalling, then sneered, “So what if I did?”
The Governor braced himself to explain, “Because you ignored the summons, Yili cut off their grain supply to our county...”
“Heh. Yili, is it?” The General sneered again and strode away.
Only after his footsteps faded completely did the officials dare lift their heads, exchanging terrified glances.
Unlike Kuqa and Luntai, this year’s Yili was bustling with life.
Anxi Prefecture City, noon.
Along the fifty-li stretch of official road, carts laden with grain trundled one after another, winding from the distant Black Soil Hills, forming a golden dragon under the late autumn sun.
Children from within and around the prefectural city gathered along the grain convoy, picking up fallen wheat ears from the ground and stuffing them into their pouches.
The wheels rumbled over the packed earth, echoing with deep, dull sounds.
Occasionally, a few grains of wheat bounced from the wheel tracks, only to be snatched up by the waiting children.
“Ada! Look at this wheat stalk I found—it’s fatter than yours!”
A little girl with twin horn braids proudly raised her trophy, the golden wheat ear hanging heavily from her dirty little hand.
Beside her, a chubby boy refused to concede, crouching to rummage through the ruts. “Wait! I’ll find an even fatter one!”
The veteran militia driving the grain carts puffed on his dry pipe and chuckled, cracking his whip with a loud snap!
“Hey! You brats, mind the road!”
White smoke burst in the air as a few sparrows scattered away. “If the wheels crush your toes, don’t come crying!”
The children giggled and scattered, only to gather again moments later like foraging sparrows around a fresh trail of ruts.
Their clothes bulged, filled with the most important harvest of their day.
Royal Palace Main Hall.
Jiang Zhaoming rubbed his temples and looked helplessly at the restless Fan Kang.
“Lord Fan,” the young Prince of Anxi tapped the desk, “can you stop squirming? It’s making it hard for me to read my documents.”
Fan Kang lifted his head, the wrinkles on his aged face forming a strange smile.
His mouth stretched to his ears while his brows furrowed tight into a “川” shape—like a withered poplar suddenly blooming.
Jiang Zhaoming had never seen anyone smile so “ugly.”
“Your subject... your subject is merely happy.”
Fan Kang’s voice trembled, his rough fingers unconsciously rubbing the grain ledger on the desk.
“This year, the people will have a good winter.”
As he spoke, his gaze grew unfocused, as though piercing through the hall back to that nightmare winter.
“When I first came to Anxi, both sides of the official road were lined with frozen corpses—six million of them.”
His throat bobbed, and a murky tear splashed onto the rosewood desk.
“Back then, I knelt in the snow and swore I’d see the people of Pingxi live well...”
His words stopped abruptly.
The old man collapsed over the desk, weeping bitterly, his hunched back curled like a dead shrimp.
Jiang Zhaoming remained silent.
He noticed wheat husks clinging to the old man’s official robe sleeves—no doubt from his personal inspection of the granaries.
“Now it’s all right...”
Fan Kang suddenly lifted his head, his tear-filled eyes gleaming with fierce light.
“The Black-Armored Army quelled the rebellion, captured the bandits, divine grain sprouted on the Black Soil Hills, and Your Highness cherishes the people as your own children...”
He abruptly left his seat and knocked his head to the ground.
“Your old subject thanks Your Highness on behalf of all Anxi’s people, for granting them rebirth!”
Jiang Zhaoming slowly rose, suppressing the tide of emotion within him, and helped the loyal elder to his feet.
With a solemn tone, he said, “The rebel remnants within the prefecture are not yet wiped out. I still need the aid of devoted men like you, Lord Fan. Our struggle has only begun.”
Fan Kang trembled slightly, but when he raised his head again, he had regained the composure of a prefectural chief.
“Your Highness, this minister lost his composure.”
“No matter.” Jiang Zhaoming turned away, the light flashing off the dragon-patterned jade belt at his waist. “Please, draft a decree for me.”
Fan Kang quickly collected himself, took up his brush, and looked to Jiang Zhaoming.
“Summon the governors and commanding generals of Kuqa and Luntai Counties to appear before the Prefectural City within seven days to plead guilty.”
Jiang Zhaoming clasped his hands behind his back, looking out toward the long dragon of grain carts beyond the hall. Each of his words carried weight like scales measuring gold.
“Those who arrive on time—I’ll reward them with five hundred thousand shi of grain. Those who don’t... I’ll personally lead the troops to ‘pay them a visit.’”
Fan Kang’s eyes grew solemn as he immediately began drafting the summons, quietly marveling that this new Prince truly earned his reputation—those hundreds of scrolls he read each day were not for show.
The lifeline of Kuqa and Luntai had just been grasped firmly in his hands.
After the document was drafted, Fan Kang left the hall.
Jiang Zhaoming took out a dragon-patterned jade token and infused it with his blood energy.
The Dragon Ranking slowly materialized in the air.
Thanks to the victories in quelling rebellion and eliminating bandits last month, Jiang Zhaoming had earned 37 points of Imperial Destiny Value, placing him 146th on the Dragon Ranking.
But that was far from enough.
For Jiang Zhaoming, the month had barely begun, and his Imperial Destiny Value had already multiplied several times over.
【Obtained one wondrous landmark—Black Soil Treasure Hill, gaining 72 points of Imperial Destiny Value, to be recorded on next month’s Dragon Ranking】
【Resolved the food crisis of Yili County, gaining 11 points of Imperial Destiny Value, to be recorded on next month’s Dragon Ranking】
And Jiang Zhaoming knew—these were far from the end for this month, because a much greater surge was yet to come.