Chapter Fourteen: The Last Crop of Vegetables

Page 1/3

With both hands raised high, Li You held the rolled bamboo scroll—the very same one he had borrowed before. Now that he was returning it, there was no need for him to bow or perform any formalities.

“I have found many parts of this book difficult to understand. I humbly ask, young master, that you help clear my doubts.”

Upon hearing this, Fusu took the scroll and asked, “What questions do you have?”

Li You straightened up again and inquired, “What is meant by the ‘peasant question’?”

Fusu pondered for a moment but did not answer immediately.

“I also wish to ask, what is ‘blind action thinking,’ and what responsibilities do officials bear toward the people?”

Fusu stood silently by the fish pond for a long time.

Seeing the young master remain silent, Li You said, “There are words recorded in your book that I do not understand.”

“Li You...” Fusu began.

“I am here,” Li You replied.

Fusu looked down at the pond’s surface, still able to see his own reflection, and said, “In truth, the ability to learn well is very important. Some matters require both practice and inquiry.”

Li You nodded.

Fusu sat down again and asked, “Do you wish to know?”

Li You hesitated slightly, then said, “I have read few books. I heard that you have studied the various philosophical classics since childhood, so I am willing to learn from you.”

Fusu then began to explain the related insights—insights he had absorbed in a previous life, having witnessed people understand and put them into practice many times.

Now, as Fusu recounted them, it was purely from the memory of that glorious era.

Though uncertain how Li You would be affected by these words, the old aristocracy of the Six States still existed. Or perhaps some people’s hearts would be wounded, and they would again curse Xianyang as the tyrannical Qin.

The legendary historian Sima Qian was yet to be born—sixty years from now, at best one could trace back to his grandfather.

Fusu explained a few more points to Li You, sometimes furrowing his brow, sometimes seeming hesitant.

“Well?” he asked.

Li You pressed his forehead and said, “I still do not fully understand.”

“That is why being good at learning is so important. In the process, it is not enough to just listen; one must take many notes, writing down doubts and key points.”

With that, Fusu left it at that, leaving Li You to sit and ponder.

Li You’s learning habits and methods needed some change.

The content in the book was not as obscure as the philosophical classics. Even if Li You were to memorize mechanically, grasping the main points would not be a bad thing.

Perhaps, many years later, Li You would hold this scroll and begin to gather those with ambition, kindling a small flame?

For now, with his current ability and composure, Li You managing himself well was already commendable.

Outside the study, the servants led a group of women preparing the day’s meals.

Since winter had come, the variety of vegetables available grew increasingly scarce. The pickled radishes prepared in autumn had been distributed to every household.

“What shall we eat today?” the young master asked.

Upon hearing the question, Tian An replied, “Zhang Han harvested a great deal of celery. He said these are the last celery of the winter; after the snow, there will be no more green vegetables.”

Fusu saw carts piled like small mountains with celery being pulled past and said, “Very well, then we shall eat celery.”

“We’ll prepare it right away.”

Zhang Han was known for his hearty appetite. If it was edible, he could eat it.

While the household servants ate celery, Zhang Han chewed on celery as well, alternating bites of raw celery and bread.

After the meal, the women dressed in thick clothes began weaving hemp cloth to prepare winter garments.

Now, large armies were gradually returning to Guanzhong, and the spoils of war they brought back were increasing.

Because this year, young master Fusu had sent much grain to the army, more livestock, fabric, and farming tools obtained after the war were distributed generously to Shangyan Mountain.

By the time Fusu stood in the snow to see these goods, they had already been covered by a thick layer of snow.

After finishing the last batch of vegetables for the winter, Guanzhong officially entered the season when nothing lived above the earth.

Fusu flipped through the miscellany brought by the army—mostly incomplete items, like piles of timber, their purpose unknown.

All these were transported by Meng Tian and his troops, accompanied by Li Si.

Taking the rare moment to visit the young master, Li Si smiled and stood for a long while before preparing to speak.

Fusu tore off a piece of wood from a half-destroyed plow and asked, “Teacher, are there many such miscellaneous items in the army?”

Li Si nodded, “Quite a few. If you need, I can have more sent over.”

“Very well.”

Page 2/3

Li Si took out a scroll from his sleeve and said, “This is a document from the army. Grand General Meng Wu, the Grand Commander, intends to send all thirty thousand prisoners from Shangyan Mountain to Yandi to help build the Great Wall.”

At these words, Fusu’s hands paused.

Li Si seemed to see through the young master’s thoughts and added, “Meng Wu fell ill after the campaign against Chu and can no longer travel far. General Meng Tian has been assigned to go to Yandi instead.”

Fusu continued dismantling various wooden devices constructed from timber—some were even parts of large beds, some bore scorch marks.

Like a scrap collector, he patiently sorted and classified the items delivered from the army.

Meng Tian was finally going to build the Great Wall, and he would be bringing those thirty thousand prisoners.

It was like the county system—Qin stubbornly persevering.

The construction of the northern Great Wall was likewise an unyielding endeavor.

Li Si beckoned behind him, and Meng Tian stepped forward, saluting, “Young master.”

Now clad in the distinctive armor of the Qin army, the clinking of his armor audible as he walked, he said, “Young master, I have received the imperial order to proceed to Yandi to build the Great Wall.”

The venerable General Meng Wu was advanced in years, as was General Wang Jian. Qin had unified the six states and destroyed the last remnants of Chu, but the war had drained much from Qin.

Meng Wu could no longer travel far; Wang Jian had not returned for a long time, perhaps also due to old age, making long journeys difficult.

The future of Qin rested on the next generation.

Fusu patted him on the shoulder, “Take care on your journey.”

Meng Tian saluted once more and then led his men to assemble the thirty thousand prisoners.

These prisoners seemed to have been lent to Shangyan Mountain, but now Meng Tian was taking them away. After the annexation of Yanzhao, northern border defense became critically important, forcing a sacrifice in the progress of the Longshou Canal to divert manpower to Great Wall construction.

Though expected, Meng Tian had spoken of this matter before.

After nearly half a year of no contact, they met briefly, and soon he was off to the north.

Fusu bade farewell to Meng Tian and the thirty thousand prisoners.

Zhang Han gazed northward, as if seeing them off, his eyes unreadable—envy or sympathy.

After the prisoners left, Fusu felt a void behind Zhang Han—previously, one or two people always followed him, awaiting orders.

After collecting his thoughts, Fusu had to once again face reality and begin planning his private holdings.

His so-called private property was nothing more than three thousand servants and several hundred acres of land.

Outside, Li Si and Li You were arguing, seemingly caught in some father-son conflict.

Only after Fusu left did he feel some peace. He saw Tian An repairing a spinning wheel, watched by a group of women.

Fusu approached and glanced, “Why not install a pedal underneath? That way, you wouldn’t have to use one hand to pull the thread.”

Tian An paused his work.

Fusu explained some principles behind the spinning wheel.

Tian An nodded, “What you say makes sense. I’ll give it a try.”

Thus, Fusu found something to occupy his idle moments: standing by to watch Tian An modify the spinning wheel.

This old spinning wheel had been captured by the Qin army and brought here.

Seeing it not severely damaged, Tian An thought to repair it. As he tapped with a wooden hammer, he said, “Young master, this is a Chu spinning wheel. Back then, scholars from Qi and Lu came to Chu for clothing; Chu’s spinning wheels were the best.”

Fusu leaned against a pine tree and asked, “And now?”

“If what you say can truly be built, then this spinning wheel made by the Qin would be the best in the world.”

Fusu mused, “If the Chu and the scholars learned that Qin had a better weaving technique and lost their customers, they’d surely curse the tyrannical Qin.”

Tian An smiled knowingly, “If your servants can earn grain and money through weaving, your household will be well established.”

Fusu laughed, “I’m not short of money.”

Tian An nodded, “General Wang Ben’s gift of wines alone was worth tens of thousands of coins. You certainly have no shortage of money.”

Under current Qin law, wine was very valuable.

In this era, money was not as important as grain; agriculture was the foundation of the state.

Even the three thousand servants on this land had to budget carefully for grain.

Commoners did not know the true value of money, and barter was still prevalent.

Life at the foot of Shangyan Mountain was simple, with two meals a day.

Only the midday meal was warm and lively.

At night, everyone ate dry food with no open flame for roasting.

Page 3/3

Now that the thirty thousand prisoners had left, the pressure eased considerably, but the work of building underground canals and shafts could only rely on those three thousand servants.

Fusu stood by the spinning wheel, watching the diligent servants store the old items brought from the army into various warehouses. These were not their belongings, and even their lives belonged to young master Fusu.

Tian An skillfully crafted a lever using mortise and tenon joinery. Fusu eyed him suspiciously—was this old man a craftsman by trade?

He had never heard Tian An speak of his past, only that he had been in the Xianyang palace for many years.

Under Tian An’s deft hands, the spinning wheel was finally improved.

Sitting before it, Tian An held the thread in one hand, steadying the other end with the other, pressed the pedal with his foot, and the hemp thread smoothly fed through.

The surrounding women gasped in amazement as they watched, each coveting the spinning wheel.

Whoever obtained it would become the most prolific weaver here.

After Fusu and Tian An left, the older women began fighting over the spinning wheel, even resorting to scuffles and spitting at one another.

Thus, the Qin people were simple and plain, yet when it came to realizing their worth, they would stop at nothing.

As dusk approached, Fusu squatted with a bowl, eating pickled radish with millet rice.

“Young master,” Li You said, holding a flatbread stuffed with scallions and some celery.

Fusu continued eating his millet rice.

“Since you understand the power of the people, why not unite them now?”

Fusu chewed on the radish, swallowing some millet rice.

Li You chewed his bread, eyes fixed on Fusu, the crunch of celery audible.

“Li You, distinguishing friend from foe is very important. You know to unite with the people, but you are not yet one of them. You have not discerned who our enemies are. Qin has unified the six states, but the social strata formed over hundreds of years during the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods still exist.”

“First, we must investigate and understand who the enemy is, the contradictions between the enemy and the state, whom to unite with, and whom to oppose. You must learn more and observe more.”

The young master spoke with a calmness and steadiness far beyond his years.

Tian An stood nearby, taking it all in.

Li You’s eyes shone with admiration, as if he had found the meaning of life. He quickly saluted, “I, You, will obey young master’s teaching.”

He hurried off. Only then did Fusu realize that this man intended to live among the servants for a while.

Sitting in the carriage returning to the palace, Fusu suddenly remembered something and asked, “What were teacher and Li You arguing about?”

Tian An replied, “The Chancellor hopes Li You will remain in the court as a secretary, but he wishes to resign his post.”

Li You was merely a secretary in the court, responsible for delivering documents, checking their origins, content, and destinations.

The teacher taught Li You conscientiously, entrusting him with the best yet most demanding positions.

Of course, Li You was not the one in charge.

The one in charge at Shangyan Mountain was naturally young master Fusu, but the ones supervising canal construction and wielding real power were Wang Ben and Zhang Han.

It was the same with the missions to Hedong; the teacher always placed Li You on the front line but shielded him from blame should anything go wrong.

Arguments were to be expected—Li You was likely in his rebellious phase.

Fusu sympathized deeply; at that age, who did not want to live a bit freely? Rebellion was inevitable.

After the heavy snow in Guanzhong ceased, there was a rare sunny day.

The canal excavation work, halted for many days, finally resumed. Fusu’s servants tied hemp ropes around themselves and jumped down the shafts, and baskets of earth were lifted up.

When those below climbed back up, they were covered head to toe in yellow soil.

Li You truly lived alongside the servants and even descended with them to dig the canal.

After a day’s labor, the servants threw Li You into the cold Luo River to wash him thoroughly.

Only after washing off the yellow mud did the servants don their thick clothing and return home, welcomed by the children.

Li You shivered as he climbed ashore, teeth chattering, draping a cloak over his shoulders as he followed the group.

The young master’s words echoed in his mind as he observed the people—their expressions, their smiles.

Until Zhang Han stepped in front of Li You.

“The young master said the servants should learn to read and write. I wonder if Secretary Li could teach them?”

Li You smiled bitterly, “I can teach them literacy, but then I will no longer be a secretary in the army.”