By the time the inspection results returned to the county, it was already June.
In the sweltering fifth month, Qiuyang County was so hot that clothing stuck to the skin, sweat pooling with even the slightest movement. Melons ripened in the streets, sold whole or sliced, crisp and sweet.
Beneath the old locust tree in the garden, two cooling boards had been placed side by side. The midday air carried little wind, and the shade offered a slight respite.
“Brother, try this piece. This one’s sweeter.”
Chengyi, barefoot, lay on the mat flipping through a small illustrated book, offering a slice of crimson, juice-laden melon while keeping his eyes on the pages.
“Sweet?”
Danze leaned in alongside, munching with Chengyi.
“Yes,” Chengyi nodded.
Hearing the response, Danze gleefully offered another bite.
“No, if I eat too much melon, I’ll need to run to the privy.”
“Then I’ll carry you if you’re too lazy,” Danze joked.
Chengyi lifted his head, pinching Danze’s ear in mock protest.
Danze grinned, showing his tiny canines, brushing his bare feet against Chengyi playfully.
When Du Heng entered the garden with the official letter, he saw the two children on the mat, caught in their playful game.
Clearing his throat, the little ones paused and obediently called out, “Father.”
Du Heng approached, noticing sweat glistening on Chengyi’s forehead. He fetched a handkerchief and wiped it gently.
“Hot?”
“A little,” Chengyi admitted.
Danze produced a fan. “I’ll help you cool off.”
Du Heng smiled. “Alright, then, have fun.”
Qin Xiaoman stepped out. “The inspection results are here. Stop dawdling and see for yourself.”
Du Heng handed the letter over. Qin Xiaoman, ever impatient, snatched it and hurriedly opened it.
Waiting silently, Du Heng leaned in when no words came for a while.
“Two grades?!”
Du Heng could hardly believe it. He checked the letter twice. Indeed, he had been promoted two grades—from a seventh-rank prefect to a sixth-rank.
He exhaled, satisfied. For local officials, advancing even one grade in the three-year inspection was considered good; two grades were rare indeed.
“Excellent, excellent,” he murmured. After years of studying and serving, now nearly thirty, the trajectory toward a prefecture post seemed within reach.
“You weren’t worried about the results because you already knew you’d succeed,” Qin Xiaoman teased, poking his side.
Du Heng chuckled, “I don’t claim foresight. I simply handle things properly.”
“Now that you’ve succeeded, you’re going to tell me how wonderful it is, aren’t you?”
Du Heng carefully put the official letter away and said, “The afternoon will be cooler; let’s go inspect the county road. With the weather warming, repairs need to be swift. The workshop mentioned they’ve nearly reached the border.”
“This road is being repaired quite fast,” Qin Xiaoman remarked.
“The county relies on just this one road. The foundation is solid, so fixing it isn’t difficult—hence the speed,” Du Heng explained.
After Qiuyang County’s main road had been restored, passing merchants visibly increased. Summer’s heat had encouraged farmers to cultivate more of the previously barren land, and the harvest of winter melons exceeded previous years. The melons were so delicious that merchants from neighboring counties often carried them elsewhere to sell.
Following the autumn harvest, the Wei family’s merchant caravan arrived in full force, much to Du Heng’s surprise—Wei Feng himself was leading it.
Upon receiving the news, Du Heng brought Qin Xiaoman and the two children to meet them. Du Heng had few relatives on this side, and the Wei family had greatly assisted him; though they were technically family, Wei Feng had never seen his household since their marriage.
The city streets were lively with vendors that morning. Qin Xiaoman held the calm Chengyi at the roadside, waiting for the caravan. Danze, however, could not stay still, climbing onto Du Heng’s arm and stretching his neck to peek out. “What does Uncle really look like? When will he arrive?”
“You’ll see when he gets here,” Du Heng replied.
Around mid-morning, the noise at the city gates grew. Soon, the caravan entered the county with horses, carts, and goods.
“Ah, Heng!” Wei Feng’s eyes were sharp; even though Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman had four eyes on the street, Wei Feng spotted them first from the carriage.
“What are you doing coming out to greet us, Du Da—”
Du Heng quickly steadied him as he jumped down, walking up to Wei Feng. “Uncle! What are you doing? It’s your nephew here to welcome you, not the county magistrate inspecting the caravan!”
Wei Feng clapped Du Heng’s shoulders warmly. “It’s been so many years. Seeing you well puts my mind at ease.”
Du Heng smiled and introduced, “Uncle, this is my husband, Xiaoman. And these are our children: the elder Chengyi, and the younger Danze. Call him Uncle!”
Chengyi and Danze happily obeyed. Wei Feng noted how clever and handsome the children had grown.
“They’ve grown so much!” Wei Feng exclaimed, touching their cheeks and reaching to give them small gifts.
Du Heng quickly intervened. “Uncle, let’s not linger on the street. Everything’s ready at Wangjiang Pavilion ahead. You must be tired from the journey; we can speak properly at the inn.”
“Good, good!” Wei Feng agreed.
The caravan, four or five dozen strong, stretched half a street with horses, carts, and goods. Locals had never seen such a large caravan and couldn’t help peeking at the spectacle.
“I heard from Yuan An that your three teams traveled different routes. I thought you’d head toward the capital, but you’re bringing a caravan to Qiuyang County?” Du Heng explained.
“I planned it after receiving your letter. Qiuyang used to be plagued by bandits, and merchants avoided it, taking detours instead. Now that you govern well and the county is safe, the caravan can come this way. Besides, it’s been years—I wanted to come see you and the children,” Wei Feng replied.
Du Heng laughed. “Still spoiling me, Uncle.”
Wei Feng tapped his index finger on Du Heng. “I brought several boxes for you. We’ll have them sent straight to your house so you won’t have to lift a finger. This is also your long-overdue wedding gift, which I failed to deliver before. You cannot refuse it now. It’s mainly for your husband.”
Wei Feng then gestured toward Qin Xiaoman. Though he had only asked about him when Du Heng was in Luoxia County, this was the first time he was meeting him. Years had passed, and what once seemed an unsuitable match now appeared harmonious—Du Heng’s husband and children were all admirable.
Wei Feng, clever as ever, recognized that Du Heng’s family had reached this point through merit, not luck—a stark contrast to the pampered youth of the Wei family, spoiled in wealth and comfort.
“Chengyi, Danze, come here!” Wei Feng called, producing two small coin pouches. “One for each of you. Uncle came unexpectedly and doesn’t have much on him, so these are just small tokens to buy some fruit. Understand?”
Danze eagerly tore open his pouch, revealing a handful of tiny, shining gold beads, heavy and delightful. Such treasures he had only ever seen sparingly on the jewelry of wealthy ladies—not in such abundant little pouches.
“Thank you, Uncle!” Danze exclaimed, shaking his pouch in delight.
Chengyi chimed in with thanks as well.
“You brought plenty last time. How come there’s so much more now?” Du Heng asked.
Wei Feng laughed. “Last time I wasn’t prepared enough. Now everyone’s here, I can’t let the youngsters go without proper gifts. After all, it’s been many years—I can’t be stingy.”
Du Heng smiled; the remark effectively shut him up from bringing up past grievances.
“All right, all right. We understand your intentions, Uncle. Since you’re here, rest well in the county. Let the family enjoy this time together.”
This time, the Wei family’s caravan came to the county carrying goods for every aspect of life—clothing, food, and household items. Many were fine products brought from Suzhou, Hangzhou, Huizhou, and the capital city, with varieties the county had never seen before.
Local merchants eagerly followed the caravan to purchase goods and sign contracts for future trade. The caravan did more than sell merchandise; they also bought high-quality sesame and cotton from the county’s autumn harvest at low prices, which could later be resold elsewhere for a tidy profit.
Wei Feng’s visit to Qiuyang County was largely out of respect and familial duty toward Du Heng. However, upon arriving, he realized that the people of the county had indeed prospered over the past two years, their purchasing power far exceeding his expectations.
The caravan not only sold much but also signed dozens of contracts. Though each contract was modest in value, collectively they amounted to a substantial sum. Wei Feng was overjoyed; in serving his nephew, he also secured profit for the Wei family.
As the caravan continued on, Wei Feng reassured Du Heng, “Don’t worry. Wherever we go, we’ll spread the news that Qiuyang County is now open and safe. This will help your county’s future trade.”
Du Heng bowed. “Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Uncle.”
“You’ve thought of me, so I think of you. Without your letters, our home would have had no way to quickly establish ties with the county government. Keep writing often. Whatever the family can help with, just ask—we will do all we can.”
With the caravan’s passage, the reputation of Qiuyang County’s trade routes was fully restored.
By the fifth year of the Ming dynasty, Du Heng’s fourth year as the county magistrate, the county’s commercial tax revenue had steadily risen from the initial 10,000 taels per year to a remarkable 50,000 taels. Combined with land and other levies, the county contributed nearly 100,000 taels to the Jin Tuan Prefecture, ranking first among the six counties under its administration.
The new prefect, upon taking office, personally visited Qiuyang County to commend Du Heng for this achievement.
In the sixth year of the Ming dynasty, Du Heng’s fifth and final year in the county, he oversaw sowing, land registration, and patrols. Upon arriving at the front office, he found that each department was already carrying out its duties without his prompting—after four to five years of guidance, the county staff operated with high efficiency.
With nothing pressing to attend to, Du Heng felt an unfamiliar leisure. Unable to find work, he decided to buy a couple of freshly caught river fish from the street to cook soup for the children.
“No, no! Consider this fish a gift for you. You’ve done so much for the county; I couldn’t accept payment,” said the elderly fish seller.
“That’s not how buying works—you’d be no different than the ruffians and bullies of old if I didn’t pay. Take it!” Du Heng insisted.
The old man shook his head. “It’s my honor to offer fish to you, sir. Please, accept it!”
Qin Xiaoman watched the exchange, arms crossed, amused at the stubborn back-and-forth, unlike the usual bargaining at other stalls.
“Alright,” she said, finally stepping forward. “We’ll split the difference—half payment. That way, both sides are satisfied.” She handed the money to the old fisherman and tugged Du Heng home.
“You really have a way with things,” she teased. “I’ll handle the tough part; you just act nice.”
Du Heng shook his head. “I can’t possibly—”
“Where have you been? Not in the front office?” Qin Xiaoman asked.
Du Heng smiled wryly. “The county and its outskirts are orderly now—almost don’t need me anymore.”
She chuckled. “Enjoy it while you can. Everyone else would give anything to have this kind of free time, and here you are worrying about nothing to do.”
“In past years, the county office always had pressing matters at the start of the year. This year, without major projects, I feel something’s missing,” Du Heng said.
“Well, that’s good. Just wait for the end-of-year evaluations. After four to five years of hard work, you deserve a break,” Qin Xiaoman said.
“I can’t rest yet,” Du Heng replied.
With only a year left in office and the county’s debts cleared, funds now available for public use, he intended to invest in infrastructure, improve living conditions, and encourage population growth.
“What public projects do you have in mind?” Qin Xiaoman asked.
Sitting cross-legged on the mat in his study, Du Heng picked up his pen. “Life in the county has improved, and livestock numbers have grown. At every market, you see mules, oxen, and donkeys tied up everywhere. They leave their waste all over the streets—terrible in summer.”
“Then we’ll build public livestock pens, manage all the animals, and collect their waste in one place. It can be used as fertilizer for the fields.”
Qin Xiaoman leaned back in her chair. “That’s practical. Without proper management, all that livestock would make the county stink.”
Du Heng jotted down in his notebook: “Look, with more people in the county, we could also build rain shelters or pavilions. Qiuyang County doesn’t see much rain, so shelters might not be used often, but shade and cool spots would definitely be appreciated. And with the livestock pens providing for animals’ needs, people have their own urgent needs too—we should build at least two proper public latrines in the county.”
He had spent a lot of time visiting the countryside, where villagers were rough and unrefined; they relieved themselves in the open fields. With wide spaces and few people, it was manageable.
Yet even in the county, some people were crude enough to do the same in narrow alleys, which was unacceptable. The reason such behavior persisted was that most homes had private latrines only in larger compounds; small households relied on portable chamber pots. The county lacked public facilities for people. Proper construction would not only meet the essential needs of residents, improve civic habits, but also keep the city clean.
As they discussed, Du Heng and Qin Xiaoman listed several facilities: livestock pens, rain shelters, public latrines, well pavilions, and more. These projects could be completed quickly—within six months—allowing citizens to use them before Du Heng’s term ended, and ensuring that subsequent officials wouldn’t halt the work.
“What about increasing the registered population of the county?” Qin Xiaoman asked.
“That’s a major project,” Du Heng replied. “Even if we start during my term, it would take four to five years to see results. Back when Qiuyang County was poor and unstable, families couldn’t afford to raise children, so even policy implementation wouldn’t have worked.”
Qin Xiaoman propped her chin on her hands. “Now that life is better and people can live peacefully, the population will naturally grow.”
“But everything still depends on the magistrate leading by example,” she added, teasingly, “just like Danze learning about leading by example in his schoolbooks. What do you think, sir?”
Du Heng raised an eyebrow, looking at Qin Xiaoman blinking at him. He paused, reflecting carefully: “What haven’t I set an example for?”
Qin Xiaoman stood up, stretched, and said, “No more talk, I’m going to sleep.”
“Hey! Don’t leave yet!”
But she really went back inside. Du Heng furrowed his brows, set down his pen, and muttered as he followed her: “The magistrate must personally oversee this work—leading by example, just as expected.”
He had expected his final year in office to be easy, with only minor projects and waiting for the end-of-year transition. Unexpectedly, a major duty had just come his way.