Chapter 25: The Revitalization Plan for Wancheng

City Lord’s Residence, Council Hall.

Prefect Cao Xin sat at the head of the table, with Mao Jie, Zhang Baiqi, Liao Hua, and others occupying the seats on either side.

The meeting’s topic was how to restore and develop the economy and population of Wan City.

Mao Jie began by outlining the geography and demographics of Wan City and the surrounding seven counties.

Wan City is situated in the Nanyang Basin: to the north lies the Funiu Mountains, to the east the Tongbai Mountains, the west is bordered by the Qinling, and the southeast by the Dabie Mountains. To the east and southeast, the Suizhou Corridor connects to the Jianghan Basin. The area is watered by the Dan and Yu Rivers, encompasses broad alluvial plains, enjoys a mild climate with abundant rainfall, and features fertile soil—conditions highly favorable to agriculture.

In terms of population: following a census, Wan City and the seven counties together comprised 25,741 households, with more than 21,000 adult males. Wan City itself had the highest population—over 6,400 households, and more than 8,000 adult males.

Currently, Wan City’s development faces three issues.

The first is population: after years of warfare, Nanyang and its environs have suffered a massive loss of people, resulting in a widespread shortage of laborers and large swathes of abandoned land.

The second is water management: in recent years, drought has afflicted the Central Plains, including Nanyang. There is too little rainfall, leading to poor grain yields. Years of conflict have left most irrigation works in ruins. Farming will require money spent on repairing these, diverting water from the Yu and Dan Rivers for irrigation.

The third is ongoing strife. Zhang Xiu and Deng Ji are garrisoned over three hundred li away in Rangcheng and Xinye, while Cao Xin is stationed in Wan City. Both sides are on a war footing; at any moment, fighting may erupt, plunging all of Nanyang into chaos.

If the issue of war cannot be resolved, talk of developing agriculture or growing the population is nothing but empty words.

“Xiaoxian, the problems you’ve raised correspond exactly to the plans I considered on the road here,” Cao Xin said, clapping his hands.

“What plans does the General have in mind?” Mao Jie asked, stroking his graying beard.

“Just now, you mentioned encouraging births and welcoming incoming refugees to boost our numbers. But seeking refugees from afar seems unnecessarily roundabout. On our journey, our grain convoy was harassed by mountain bandits—over four hundred men, likely remnants of the Yellow Turbans.

“So I discussed with Da Shi the matter of the Yellow Turban bandits still active within Nanyang. Nanyang was one of the birthplaces of the Yellow Turban Rebellion. Although they were suppressed years ago, many remnants still linger in the mountains. If we could persuade them to come down, serve as soldiers, and farm the land, Wan City’s population problem could be swiftly resolved.”

Cao Xin spread his hands as he spoke.

Mao Jie frowned, pondering, “Transforming bandits into citizens is a sound idea. However, the Dabie and Tongbai Mountains cover a vast area. Most bandit groups are scattered, some dozens to a den, hundreds on a peak, thousands in a fortress—living in hidden, dispersed locations. Finding them is a challenge. Secondly, having lived as outlaws, surviving by plunder, they are deeply wary of the authorities. Persuading them to come down, serve as soldiers, and farm would be extremely difficult.”

“Haha, Xiaoxian, these problems are not insurmountable. Have you forgotten those fellows over there?” Cao Xin grinned, looking across at several former Yellow Turban leaders.

But as his gaze fell on them, Cao Xin suddenly froze, his expression darkening.

The Yellow Turban leaders present all sat slumped, heads drooping—six of the seven were sound asleep. Only Liao Hua listened attentively and took notes. The rest, including the usually steady Zhang Baiqi, were dozing, with Li Dayan and Yu Du snoring softly.

Bang!

Cao Xin slammed the table.

“Who goes there?!”

Li Dayan and Yu Du sprang to their feet, drawing their waist-knives and scanning the room. When they saw the thunder-faced General Cao, both scratched their brows and offered a sheepish grin.

Zhang Baiqi, Pei Yuanshao, Bai Feng, and Liu Dashi reacted less dramatically, but were equally embarrassed.

Cao Xin snorted coldly, casting a stern glare over the six. He had intended to involve everyone in governing affairs, to rule the land together. Yet the meeting had barely begun, and these men were already in a stupor. With such attitudes, how could any great task be accomplished?

“Li Dayan, what were you up to last night? Did you spend it at a brothel?”

“General, never! I have a wife—how would I end up at such a place? I’m not that sort of person,” Li Dayan protested, aggrieved.

“Then what were you doing? Gambling? Playing cards?” Cao Xin swept his gaze among them. Two faces betrayed a flicker of embarrassment, as if caught out. Seeing this, Cao Xin regretted ever teaching them dice and cards in the first place.

Back in his mountain stronghold, when rain kept them from raiding, he had shown them how to gamble and play cards. Six of the seven leaders had since grown addicted to gambling, with only the farming-loving Liu Dashi spared, though even Liao Hua hadn’t escaped. Whenever they had a moment, they’d gather for a game, and soon the entire Langya Army had caught the habit.

“General, I wasn’t gambling. It’s just the topics you and Master Mao discussed are too deep, too taxing. I listened for a while and couldn’t help but drift off,” Li Dayan said, blinking his drowsy eyes.

Though the others held their tongues, their faces showed agreement.

Cao Xin massaged his forehead helplessly, then laid out his plan to enter the mountains and recruit new people.

“You lot are all former Yellow Turban leaders—Old Zhang, Dayan, Old Yu, you three are legendary names among the Turbans. I want you to go into the mountains and persuade the Yellow Turban bandits to come down. Bring down as many as you can. Any problems?”

Zhang Baiqi nodded, then shook his head. “General, this is Jingzhou. We’re all from Qing, Xu, and Yan provinces—our old reputations don’t count for much here.

“But getting those folks out of the mountains isn’t hard. We know mountain life well. Give us two months, and we’ll find a way to get them all down. If there are ten thousand, I’ll bring ten thousand; if one hundred thousand, I’ll bring one hundred thousand—leave none behind.”

Zhang Baiqi spoke with confidence.

“Oh? And how do you plan to do that?” Cao Xin asked in puzzlement.

“Haha, General, heaven’s secrets must not be revealed. We’ll get to work now!” Li Dayan leapt up, gave a perfunctory salute, and hurried from the council hall.

The other five followed, scattering like startled rabbits. Soon, only Cao Xin, Mao Jie, Liao Hua, and a few clerks and assistants remained in the hall.

Cao Xin’s mouth twitched as he recalled Old Cao.

“Xiaoxian, since Zhang Baiqi and the others say they can bring the mountain folk down, I trust they can. The next question is: how do we settle them?”

“I suggest we manage their resettlement through a work-for-relief program—have them clear wasteland, build irrigation, construct houses. We’ll provide food and tools. Once the wasteland is reclaimed and turned into farmland, we’ll distribute the fields to the mountain folk for cultivation, collecting taxes as official fields demand. What do you think, Xiaoxian?” Cao Xin asked.

“Work-for-relief?” Mao Jie’s eyes lit up, and his gaze toward Cao Xin brimmed with admiration. “It is said the General is as wise as the sea and learned beyond compare. Now I see the rumors are true. I am enlightened.”

“Haha, you flatter me. You may not know, but when I was a mountain chief with tens of thousands under me, I bought wasteland after coming down, had them reclaim it, and built villages around. I tried out the work-for-relief method then and gained some experience.”

Cao Xin smiled lightly.

Mao Jie nodded in understanding. “General, you are wise, courageous, benevolent, and righteous. I am in awe. But there is something I have yet to report. When Zhang Xiu left Wan City, he plundered all the city’s wealth. The warehouses are empty, and the people are destitute.

“The rations in the city are barely enough to sustain the army, with none to spare for the mountain folk. Furthermore, it takes half a year to harvest newly reclaimed land. To feed ten thousand people for a year would require over ten thousand shi of grain; for one hundred thousand, over a hundred thousand shi. The consumption is far too great—Wan City cannot bear the burden.”

Mao Jie sighed softly. Drawing in refugees is the fastest way to increase population, and many local officials have considered it to boost local numbers and tax revenue.

But it is harder than it looks. Without a stable supply of food, the refugees will starve and revert to wandering, even become marauders. There have been many failed attempts before, which cannot be ignored.

Cao Xin smiled. “That’s not difficult. I have some friendly relations with Huitong Trading Company. We can borrow tens of thousands of strings of cash to buy grain, and repay them next year once the county collects taxes.”

“You can borrow the money? That is excellent—then everything rests with you, General.” Mao Jie rose and offered a deep bow.

“Haha, Xiaoxian, there’s no need. This is my duty. The rest of the work falls to you. The Chancellor will soon march out; I must devote my time to drilling the troops and preparing for any attack from Jingzhou or Zhang Xiu.”

Cao Xin steadied him as he spoke.

“I understand, General. Please prepare for war with peace of mind. Leave the resettlement of the mountain folk to me.”

“Excellent!”

Cao Xin looked at the now-empty hall and suddenly recalled another matter. “Xiaoxian, more than half the posts in the Prefectural Office are vacant. I intend to recruit local talent to help govern Nanyang. What do you think?”

“As it should be!” Mao Jie readily agreed.

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