“No.”
“You don’t want to go?”
Du Heng listened to the concise reply, surprised but somehow unsurprised.
He looked at Yi Yan, perched on a stool, polishing his blade, frowning slightly.
“General Wei Ping favors you greatly. If you went to the garrison, with his support, you could rise to command hundreds or even a thousand men in the future.”
“Although the military examinations have resumed, the system isn’t as strict as the centuries-old civil service exams. It’s easier to earn an official post through military talent.”
“Moreover, the new emperor favors the military. There will be ample opportunity for officers to make a name for themselves.”
Du Heng laid out each point, thinking the young man might be too impetuous to grasp the opportunity before him.
Yi Yan put down his blade: “I am grateful for the general’s efforts in suppressing the bandits, but I am used to freedom.”
With the bandits of Qiuyang County eliminated, his heart could finally rest, and the village farmers could live in peace.
Du Heng studied Yi Yan, realizing he had his own thoughts. Sitting down, he asked, “Now that your heart is at ease, what are your plans? Will you return home, or…”
Yi Yan glanced at him: “I’ll stay here.”
Du Heng understood his meaning and sighed: “I’ll convey the message either way. Think carefully. Whatever decision you make, I will respect it.”
Yi Yan nodded.
Just as Du Heng prepared to dispatch this year’s grain and tax revenues to the prefecture, he first received an official notice.
With the garrison stationed in Qiuyang County, supplies were necessary. The court allocated grain and fodder directly to the garrison to avoid unnecessary transport.
Du Heng arranged for the county’s share to be delivered, having Yi Yan escort it to Feng Wanhe.
“With your skills, train at the garrison for a while. Gain some military merit, and promotion to command a thousand men will be easy. Leading a thousand soldiers is far better than tending a small estate, isn’t it?”
Feng Wanhe found Yi Yan’s reply astonishing.
“I’m just a hunter. I never thought about commanding a thousand men.”
Feng Wanhe said, “You foolish lad, with that post, you’d receive a salary from the court, marry multiple wives, have many sons to continue the Yi family line—a dream others could never imagine. Yet here you are, with the chance.”
“I only have one lord. The household is harmonious. I never sought multiple wives. With the bandits gone, I have already brought honor to my family,” Yi Yan said.
“……”
Feng Wanhe could hardly believe this country boy’s short-sightedness. He had only appealed to the villagers’ immediate interests, not said a word about serving the court or defending the borders. Truly, the lad seemed impervious to persuasion!
He glanced back at Du Heng nearby, who shrugged helplessly.
“You’re his former master; you ought to give him a proper talking-to. How can talent go unnoticed in office?”
Feng Wanhe straightened his neck and said to Du Heng, “If he becomes a commander of a thousand men, won’t you benefit from it too?”
“I do hope to gain some glory,” Du Heng replied, “I’ve already tried persuading him, but he wouldn’t listen. You can’t very well hold a blade to his neck, can you?”
Feng Wanhe pursed his lips, realizing Du Heng had no intention of helping him.
Like forcing a cow to drink, it was useless—he could only watch Yi Yan obediently follow Du Heng back.
Feng Wanhe felt a pang of regret but also some humility before Du Heng, shaking his head. “This boy’s vision is too narrow for such a small place. There are others skilled in combat; if we miss this one, there will be the next. No need for a great general to chase a mere hunter. He’s already showing courtesy to a superior.”
With the autumn harvest finished, the county office quieted considerably. Du Heng spent his days resolving the occasional case; aside from that, there was little else to do.
The bandits had been troublesome, but once Feng Wanhe had dumped them at the county office, Yi Yan refused to deal with them, and Du Heng, not wishing to contradict prior arrangements, simply arranged for the prisoners to be held and interrogated in the county jail.
There were many prisoners, and processing them was tedious. It was no wonder Feng Wanhe had simply stuffed them into the southern cells—he didn’t even want credit for the deed.
By late October, Feng Wanhe’s family arrived in Qiuyang County. Du Heng had to continue hearing cases at the office that day, so Qin Xiaoman went to receive them.
Actually, Qin Xiaoman handled the housing arrangements too. Familiar with the officials’ families and fond of listening to neighborhood gossip, he knew the local houses and streets better than Du Heng did. He found several decent residences for Feng Wanhe to choose from, and the task was handled efficiently.
On a chilly early-winter night, after some rest, Du Heng lay in bed reading while Qin Xiaoman was at her dressing table tidying her hair. He called out: “How’s General Feng’s family?”
“They’re easy to get along with, much gentler than the general himself. There’s his main wife and two younger ladies.”
Du Heng asked, “How old are they?”
“One is about seventeen or eighteen, the other looks in her twenties.”
Du Heng looked up from his book: “That old already? I thought the general wasn’t even forty; he married and had children young, then.”
Qin Xiaoman rolled her eyes, sitting on the bed and taking the book from Du Heng. “You’re deluded. Military officers earn rank mostly through battlefield exploits, not inherited titles. The general spent most of his youth on campaigns. His older child may have reached adulthood, but the younger is only three or four.”
Du Heng blinked. “I thought you meant the little one was a child.”
Qin Xiaoman climbed into bed silently.
Du Heng closed the book, turned to her, and asked, “Why so quiet?”
She stared at the canopy: “Some families are hoping to send someone here to serve.”
“Then we won’t be involved with those sorts of families.”
Qin Xiaoman tilted her head to look at Du Heng: “You really don’t want one?”
Du Heng propped his face on his hand and poked her cheek: “Why would I need one?”
She bit her lip, her eyes flicking about. Though he often joked about getting a few small attendants, it had only ever been a joke.
Having grown up in a village with limited means, it was already a struggle for most men to marry a single wife, let alone have concubines. Only wealthy landowners could afford multiple wives, and those families were rare; the notion of one husband having only one wife was ingrained in their minds.
As Du Heng rose in officialdom in Qiuyang County, a seventh-rank magistrate, ladies of the gentry were aware of him. Knowing Qin Xiaoman was his only companion, some even offered to send someone to attend him.
Hearing this repeatedly gave her a strange fluttering feeling, a subtle delight she could hardly explain. Her lips curved into a smile.
“Then I’ll take it you really mean that. No backing out later!”
Du Heng’s eyes curved as he leaned close, pressing against her shoulder: “Weren’t you the one who wanted someone to serve you before, to massage your back and rub your feet? Now you’ve changed your mind? Realize even Du Heng is coveted by others?”
Qin Xiaoman pinched his arm.
“Ow!”
“You were supposed to rub my feet! Bringing someone else for the job snatched them away!”
Du Heng laughed, lifted the covers, and wrapped them both up together. “Forget the others. I’m yours alone—no one else can take you.”
The next day, with some free time, Du Heng rode in a cart with Qin Xiaoman to inspect the village fields.
With the county office settled and the bandits gone, it was finally time to get Qiuyang County’s agriculture in order.
Farming and sericulture prospered, the villagers’ wallets would fatten, and the county’s accounts would improve. No matter how the county developed, ensuring people had enough to eat would always come first.
The morning air in early winter was still mild, dew sparkling on the roadside, carrying the long-missed scent of soil and vegetation.
It had been a long time since they had last ridden an ox cart. With the crisp morning breeze in their faces, both men were in good spirits, and by the time they reached the village the sun had only just risen.
Across the countryside, the fields wore the bleak look of late autumn edging into winter. What had once been rice paddies and cornfields were now left with only the stubble of rice stalks and corn roots that had yet to be turned under.
Some farmers were already out, hoes slung over their shoulders, digging up those roots to dry and use as firewood in winter.
Winters in Qiuyang County were not cold, so charcoal was seldom used here. Few people went into the mountains to cut wood or burn charcoal at this time of year; most farmers stayed bent over their fields, tidying and tending the land.
With little need for charcoal in winter, common folk lost yet another way to earn a living. The already desolate winter season thus offered even fewer chances to make ends meet.
With no extra income to rely on, farmers could only do their best to plow the land thoroughly and loosen the soil, hoping that next year’s crops would grow better and yield a bit more at harvest.
Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman stopped the ox cart on the village’s main road and walked through the countryside. They could tell that the farmers of Qiuyang County were diligent and especially careful with the land they had.
“Qiuyang County has high temperatures and lots of sandy soil,” Qin Xiaoman said, pinching some of the dry earth that had been turned up. “In summer they have to scramble to divert water for irrigation. Sometimes two villages even come to blows because the upstream blocks the water.”
He had heard such complaints from farmers now and then when he went to the market to buy vegetables.
Du Heng responded, “I’ve read the county gazetteer. It’s always been dry here. When summer comes, every village draws water from the river to irrigate, and most of it is carried by shoulder pole. Fields close to the river are one thing, but for villages farther away, just hauling water in summer is a massive undertaking.”
And that was assuming the river even had water. More often, upstream villages dammed the flow to irrigate their own fields and refused to let downstream villagers draw any.
In some years, winter and spring rainfall was scarce, river levels dropped, and the small streams running through the countryside simply dried up.
Du Heng felt that if they wanted to raise yields, the irrigation problem had to be solved. Otherwise, once spring passed into early summer—the critical growing season—drought would strike the crops again.
Qiuyang County had a large river. If its embankments were reinforced in winter and water properly stored, then come summer the dams could be opened for irrigation. With the canals cleared and water distribution regulated, conditions would surely improve.
As they walked, Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman discussed plans and sketched ideas.
Once the embankments of the Minyin River were built up to store water, each township would also need irrigation works. Fields near the river could use tube wheels directly, while paddies without ponds or lakes would rely on waterwheels.
Du Heng hastily jotted down these plans in his notebook, intending to discuss them with the officials from the Works Office once they returned to the county yamen.
The two of them tirelessly crisscrossed the fields. By the time the winter sun had climbed high overhead and the light had grown a bit harsh, they finally decided to head back to the village’s main road, grab something to eat, and then visit another village.
“Where’s the cart?”
Qin Xiaoman reached the front first. Seeing the empty road, he planted his hands on his hips and shouted back to Du Heng, “Our cart is gone!”
“What?”
Du Heng hurried over. He looked around—earlier they had tied the ox to a tree, but now only the tree remained.
Qin Xiaoman quickly went to check the wheel tracks. Ox carts were rare in the village, so fresh tracks should have been easy to spot. Yet they seemed to have been deliberately erased—there wasn’t a trace to be found.
Both Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman were furious, but all they could do was go ask the village head for help.
When the village head heard that the county magistrate’s ox cart had been stolen from the main road, he was so frightened his legs nearly gave out. In a panic, he gathered the villagers to search for the cart.
By noon, even the dry rations left on the cart were gone. At the village head’s insistence, Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman accepted his invitation to eat a simple meal at his home.
The village head of Qianyou Village was a middle-aged man who had taken office less than two years earlier. His wife was still young, wearing an apron and clearly capable.
In less than half an hour, she had prepared several rustic dishes. Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman had not eaten village food in a long time, and after a morning spent surveying the fields, they found the meal especially satisfying.
Seeing that the county magistrate did not disdain the plain farm fare, the village head’s wife was overjoyed and repeatedly poured them cups of her homemade wine.
Du Heng did not drink much, but Qin Xiaoman drank as if it were water, finishing quite a bit.
Looking around the courtyard, with its thatched roof and little more than two extra mud-brick rooms compared to an ordinary household, Du Heng felt a faint pang of discomfort at how hard their circumstances were.
In the afternoon, around the middle of the Wei hour, the village head came rushing back, drenched in sweat, having finally recovered Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman’s ox cart. Along with it, he brought back a thin, hollow-cheeked man who looked almost unrecognizable from malnutrition.
“Why aren’t you kneeling before the magistrate?”
With a sharp shout, the village head ordered two villagers holding the culprit to force him down to his knees.
“Who are you, and why did you steal someone’s cart on the village road?” Du Heng asked.
The man said nothing. Instead, the village head replied, “Reporting to Your Excellency, this man is mute.”
Wiping the sweat from his forehead from running around searching for the cart, he hastily explained, unwilling to leave a bad impression of his village. “He’s a hired farmhand under the Wei family, mainly working the land for his employer on the western side of the village. He probably saw that no one was around at noon, noticed there was an ox, and got the wrong idea.”
As he spoke, the village head suddenly dropped to his knees before Du Heng. “Your Excellency is the true parent official of Qiuyang County. You’ve been here less than half a year—yet you brought down corrupt officials and sent troops to suppress bandits. This autumn, when collecting land and tax payments, you never made things difficult for anyone. Everyone remembers the county magistrate’s kindness. And yet when Your Excellency came to our village, your cart was stolen. This humble commoner truly feels ashamed.”
His eyes reddened, and the surrounding farmers also wore expressions of guilt.
Du Heng said, “What are you doing? The ox cart has been found—that’s what matters. There are good and bad people everywhere; this isn’t your fault. What’s important is figuring out what actually happened.”
“Oxen are essential for farming, and the court forbids the slaughter of draft animals. Since this man is a hired laborer, even if he stole such a large animal, where could he possibly keep it? Wouldn’t that just be asking for trouble?”
Qin Xiaoman frowned, puzzled. “Sooner or later someone would report it anyway.”
At those words, the mute man—who had been kneeling with his head down—suddenly looked up and began waving his hands frantically at Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman. He pointed at the ox, then toward the western side of the village, then made a very crude gesture typical of country folk.
The women watching nearby, doing so in front of the county magistrate, grew embarrassed and turned their faces away.
“Outrageous! How dare you behave so crudely in front of His Excellency!”
Du Heng frowned deeply. “Does anyone understand what he’s trying to say?”
“Y-Your Excellency, he, he…” A young man raised his hand and spoke hesitantly. Only after seeing Du Heng’s encouraging look did he dare speak louder. “What he means is that over in the west of the village, the hired farmhands have a cow belonging to their landlord. Everyone’s been wanting to breed her, and when he saw that the ox on the village road was a bull, he led it over there. He wasn’t trying to steal it.”
“That’s hardly an impossible request,” Du Heng said sternly. “Why didn’t he go explain the situation to the bull’s owner? Taking it without permission—how is that acceptable!”
They were all farmers scraping by, so there was some mutual understanding. Someone muttered softly, “People who can afford carts and draft animals are usually gentry. Even if you asked, they probably wouldn’t agree to something like that.”
To the gentry, livestock breeding was considered filthy—few would be willing to allow it.
Qin Xiaoman asked, “Even so, there must be households in the village with livestock. And there are breeding bulls—you could settle it with ten or so copper coins. Why go to such trouble?”
The village head stepped forward to speak fairly. “For farmers like us, we can scrape together the money to breed an animal. But hired hands… things are much harder for them.”
Du Heng let out a slow breath. He had seen the lives of hired farmhands before, and there were such laborers even back in Luoxia County. He knew well that their lives were harsher than those of ordinary farmers.
Life for regular farmers in Qiuyang County was already a struggle—how much worse must it be for hired laborers at the very bottom?
Earlier, Jiang Qi had also mentioned to him that hired laborers under the local gentry in Qiuyang County lived miserable lives and were easily crushed by local strongmen.
At the time, Du Heng’s priority had been the autumn land and tax collections, and he simply hadn’t had the manpower to address the situation of hired laborers.
Knowing that these ordinary villagers dared not say much, and that a mute man could hardly explain himself, Du Heng said, “Today I came to the village to inspect the county’s terrain and farmland, preparing to manage irrigation works. During the slack season, any able-bodied men may register with the village head to take part in construction. On the way, bring me to the west of the village so I can take a look at the hired laborers’ farming conditions.”
The farmers immediately understood his meaning. Whatever was discovered among the hired laborers would be the result of the county magistrate’s own inspection—no one else would be implicated.
At once, the mute man kowtowed several times to Du Heng and hurried to lead him toward the west of the village.
Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman went straight to the hired laborers’ dwellings. The moment they stepped inside, they realized that the true misery had never before reached the eyes of officials.
The hired laborers lived in a mountain hollow far from both the village road and the official highway, out of sight. Because the weather was warm, most of the men wore nothing but tattered, patched trousers; they had no shirts or shoes at all.
This made it all the more starkly visible—their skin stretched thin over bone. From a distance, they looked like starving ghosts wandering in broad daylight. Anyone who stumbled into the place unawares might well be terrified out of their wits.
Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman frowned deeply. Even at their poorest, the hired laborers back in their old village had never lived in conditions like this. Without even asking, one could guess what kind of life these people endured.
When the mute man had been taken away from the west of the village, the other hired laborers had been frantic, afraid trouble would come of it—after all, breeding the cow had not been his decision alone.
Now that they saw him return, everyone wanted to ask what had happened. The mute man urgently began gesturing again.
They lived together day in and day out, so the others understood him well enough. When they realized he had dragged off the county magistrate’s ox, they were so frightened they nearly collapsed, and hurriedly knelt down.
“Now that the matter is clear, I do not blame you,” Du Heng said. “I’ve come to see how your farming and living conditions are.”
At those words, after the initial shock, sorrow welled up among them. Some with weaker spirits even began to wipe away tears—grateful that the busy county magistrate still remembered hired laborers like them, and heartbroken over the lives they were living.
After some inquiry, Du Heng learned that these hired laborers had to hand over eighty percent of their harvest to their landlord each year after the autumn crops came in. On holidays and festivals, they were required to bring gifts. Whenever the landlord summoned them for labor, no matter the time, they had to go.
During the farming season, stewards were sent to supervise their work, freely beating and scolding them, treating the hired laborers no differently from beasts of burden.
The remaining twenty percent of the harvest wasn’t even enough to fill their bellies. They still had to sell it for cash to buy poultry and gifts for holidays to present to the landlord—otherwise they would be humiliated, beaten, and oppressed.
Du Heng was shocked. The amount extracted from these hired laborers was a full twenty percent higher than in Luoxia County. Under such terms, how could they possibly survive? They would only fall deeper into arrears year after year, with no chance of ever recovering.
His expression turned grave. “Who is your employer?”
At that, their agitated voices immediately dropped. “Wei Hongming, of the Wei family—the household of a provincial graduate.”
Afraid of stirring up trouble, they quickly added, “Your Excellency, most hired laborers in the county hand over seventy or eighty percent of their grain. It’s not just the Wei family…”
Du Heng did have some impression of the Wei family. Back when candidates had come to apply for the post of chief clerk, there had been a licentiate surnamed Wei. After Wei Bai failed the selection, he’d made a scene at the county yamen and had been dragged off by Ma Yingfan to the county school for discipline. Later, his elder brother had come bearing gifts to apologize repeatedly—that was Wei Hongming.
At the time, the man had been very polite and had harshly scolded Wei Bai. Du Heng’s impression of him had been fairly good. Later, with county affairs piling up and no further trouble from the Wei family, he had stopped paying them much attention.
He had never imagined that behind the scenes they were treating hired laborers so cruelly. And on further thought, Wei Bai’s arrogant, domineering behavior hardly seemed like that of someone raised in a truly upright scholarly household.
Du Heng comforted the hired laborers. “This inspection has given me a clear understanding of the situation. Once it is investigated and confirmed, I will certainly restore the laws and regulations that the court intends.”
Warmth surged through their hearts. Deeply moved, they immediately knelt and kowtowed. “Thank you, Your Excellency, for your compassion!”
What was meant to be a routine inspection of farmland had unexpectedly uncovered yet another hidden injustice.
Qiuyang County’s poverty truly was not the result of a single day—or a single person.
After visiting the hired laborers, Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman reharnessed the cart and prepared to return. Once back at the county yamen, there would be no shortage of work waiting for them.
“You should head back now. No need to see us off any farther.”
Du Heng looked at the villagers who kept escorting them, following the cart all the way to the edge of the village.
“Safe travels, Magistrate’s husband. May the road be smooth.”
Qin Xiaoman smiled and waved. “It’s only an hour or two back. Please, all of you, go on home.”
Even so, the villagers unconsciously followed a few more steps, like children reluctant to see a beloved elder leave.
Du Heng frowned slightly. “Is there something else you wish to say?”
Seeing this, the village head hurriedly asked in a cautious tone, “What Your Excellency mentioned earlier—about repairing the waterworks—was that truly meant?”
Du Heng paused for a moment. It dawned on him that the farmers might have thought his words earlier were merely a way to smooth things over. He immediately replied with certainty, “Of course.”
The farmers gathered around held their breath. Once they heard Du Heng’s unequivocal answer, smiles of joy instantly spread across their faces.
This was what they had been waiting for all along. Earlier, when Du Heng had gone to inspect the hired laborers, his expression had been grave, and no one dared bring up the matter of waterworks again. Yet they could not put it out of their minds, so they had kept escorting him, unwilling to disperse.
The farmers of the village had long suffered from summer drought. They were always thinking about repairing canals, but whether it was rallying manpower or raising funds, how could farmers manage such a project on their own? For years, they had hoped the county government would take charge of waterworks to irrigate the fields. Now, hearing that Du Heng had such a plan, how could they not be overjoyed?
Someone immediately raised his hand and said, “Your Excellency, even if I have to put aside my own farm work, I’m willing to help build the waterworks.”
Another quickly chimed in, “My father was still thinking about this matter right up until the day he passed. Now that the county is finally going to repair the waterworks, my whole family will go.”
Voices rose one after another, buzzing with excitement.
Moved, Du Heng raised his hand to signal for quiet. “I know you are all willing. First, go register with the village head. The county yamen will arrange things as soon as possible. In the meantime, when you have spare time, you can start clearing weeds and reinforcing the river that runs through the village.”
“The village river gets reinforced and cleared every year, Your Excellency—please rest assured,” someone replied.
Seated on the ox cart, Du Heng said, “Drought and high temperatures are not things human effort can change. But people still have to live. Since we can’t change the weather, we must find other ways. The county’s waterworks project will definitely be carried out. As long as you work diligently, it can be finished sooner, and you’ll be able to increase your incomes sooner as well.”
Hearing this, the villagers’ hearts filled with anticipation, hope lighting up in their eyes once more.
Qin Xiaoman drove the ox cart far down the road with Du Heng aboard, and even then they could still hear the villagers behind them kneeling and thanking the two of them. It stirred in him an even stronger desire to do something meaningful for the common people.