After Transmigration: Building a Kingdom in Turbulent Times-Chapter 675 - 669: Uneasy

Zhao Ming watched her silhouette disappear, lost in thought for a long time.

Changqing stepped forward to collect the documents and was about to rise when he noticed Zhao Ming’s grip was too tight. Surprised, he asked, "My lord?"

Zhao Ming finally returned to his senses, glanced downward at the cup in his hand, and slightly loosened his grip.

Changqing hurried forward to inspect, "Are you injured?"

Zhao Ming dismissively waved his sleeve and clasped his hands together, "It’s nothing."

Changqing was puzzled, "Why is my lord so uneasy?"

Earlier, he had been listening nearby, and there seemed to be nothing wrong with the conversation with the lady.

Zhao Ming did not answer and stood up, "Distribute the approved documents."

After speaking, he turned to leave, but had not gone far when he saw his father.

Zhao Ming turned to leave, but Zhao Song had already seen him and called out, "Zi Nian."

Zhao Ming had no choice but to turn and go over, greeting, "Father."

Zhao Song frowned tightly, "Why are you avoiding me? Where is Hanzhang? Last night, your Seventh Uncle interrupted, and I haven’t had the chance to discuss the new currency issue with her."

Zhao Ming replied, "Seventh Uncle and Third Lady have exchanged a large batch of new currency. As far as I know, he plans to transport the new currency to Jiangnan for use. The money is already minted; even if you want to stop it, you can’t. Why bother discussing it further?"

Zhao Song: ...

Zhao Ming looked at his stunned father and sighed softly, "Father, you should leave this matter alone. Let them mess around on their own."

Zhao Song frowned tightly at him, "What’s wrong with you?"

Zhao Ming hesitated, pursed his lips, and said, "It’s nothing, just something I haven’t figured out yet. Once I have, it will be fine."

Zhao Song perked up and curiously asked, "What can’t you figure out? Tell me, perhaps your father can help alleviate your confusion."

Zhao Ming glanced at his somewhat inexplicably excited father and straightforwardly asked, "Father, do you think loyalty outweighs filial piety, or vice versa?"

Zhao Song opened his mouth but could not find an answer.

Zhao Ming continued, "Loyalty—are we loyal to the ruler, loyal to the country, or loyal to the people? Filial piety—are we filial to our parents, to the entire clan, or to our ancestors?"

Zhao Song was now certain; this son was born to challenge him.

He looked around for something useful but couldn’t find anything, and thus shouted, "Shanmin, Shanmin, where is my ruler? Bring me my ruler."

Zhao Ming immediately raised his hand and quickly bowed, "Your son will take his leave first."

He turned and hurriedly left.

Zhao Song, exasperated, picked up a stone from the flower bed, intending to throw it at him, but upon raising his hand, he realized the stone was too large, about the size of a fist, so he put it down.

But this did not stop him from punishing his son. He instructed the approaching steward, "Shanmin, go confiscate all his wine. He is not allowed to drink for the next two days."

Shanmin readily agreed, appeasing the old master, but dared only to target the wine in the storeroom, not those in Zhao Ming’s room or study.

Nonetheless, Zhao Ming’s mood improved significantly as he put aside Zhao Hanzhang’s "the world" and concentrated on the current labor crisis.

The orders signed by Zhao Hanzhang were sent to various counties, which began conscripting labor according to the plan. Despite their anxiety, the people complied.

Serving was arduous, laboring from sunrise to sunset, doing tasks like digging and moving earth, all of which required heavy physical effort, leading many to feel as though they had reverted to previous times.

Whenever they thought they could settle down, unexpected issues arose, both internally and externally.

The impoverished people weren’t yet pondering deeper causes, but they possessed their own wisdom and had summarized a set of rules.

No matter how well the generals and officials who recruited and managed them spoke at first, quite a few eventually changed.

Some generals and officials were strict from the start, growing more severe year by year. When the pressure became unbearable, people either worked themselves to death like Old Niu or abandoned their homes to continue as displaced individuals.

This was largely a matter of luck.

Before the labor recruitment orders, they were filled with happiness, believing their luck was good to settle in Yu State. But now, it seemed as if a shadow had cast over their hearts.

Yet, they promptly regained their optimism.

"It’s still better than starting badly," Old Man Chen squatted in front of his house, speaking to his sons, "This year, the governor reduced many taxes. I heard over in Yan State, they’re not only doing labor but also increasing taxes, making their lives much harder than ours."

His two sons were worried, along with their neighbors, who asked, "Uncle Chen, do you think our governor will also raise taxes later?"

After a moment of silence, Old Man Chen replied, "Even if he does, it won’t be as harsh as before. We are currently paying only half the taxes; surely they would increase them fully before increasing further, right?"

They were speaking when some commotion arose at the village entrance, prompting everyone to stand and stride over to see what was happening.

A teenage boy ran over, excitedly shouting, "The governor is here! The governor is here!"

Everyone, including Old Man Chen, brightened up and rushed toward the village entrance.

Zhao Hanzhang donned a short brown coat, her gray-blue clothes stained with some mud. If not for riding on horseback and being relatively familiar to the people of Chen County, she might not have been recognized as the governor.

Zhao Hanzhang dismounted, grinding off the mud on her boots on the grass, and asked the village head who came to meet her, "It’s going to rain tonight; are there any spare houses?"

There were naturally no spare houses, but the community could squeeze together, managing to make room for them.

Zhao Hanzhang thanked them, smiling as she greeted the villagers, and then was ushered along with Fu Tinghan and others into the village head’s home.

Old Man Chen, unable to squeeze inside, tiptoed and watched intently. Soon, his son excitedly squeezed back to him, saying, "Father, I just saw the governor. I was right in front of her, and she smiled at me."

Old Man Chen felt both envious and proud, grabbing him and asking, "Did the governor say why she came?"

"Apparently today the governor was digging mud with us, managing river mud," his son sighed, "But as it was going to rain and heavy rain is expected tomorrow, they temporarily halted work. They found traveling back to the city too time-consuming, so decided to stay overnight in our village."

Old Man Chen was taken aback, asking, "The governor really dug mud with us?"

"Of course, didn’t you see how thick the mud was on her boots? Just seeing it, you would know she had just been on the river channel."

A student brought over a small desk, placing it on a mat, allowing Fu Tinghan to unfold a map. The group examined it with furrowed brows, "This won’t do; we need to optimize the labor force. Today management was too chaotic; working like this is counterproductive. We don’t have much time, and in September, we still need to plant winter wheat."

Zhao Hanzhang also nodded, "You gather the data, have the students mark all the channels, and then segment the labor; this way, progress will be faster."

A young student hesitantly asked, "On the ground?"

Zhao Hanzhang turned to look at him, smiling, "Yes, draw on the ground using lime; it’s quick, and then convey the depth and width specs to the workers for them to follow."

The students selected for the construction bowed respectfully, acknowledging with a "Yes."