The world of film and television starts from the flow of money

Twenty-five years after the establishment of the dynasty, in autumn.

North of Youzhou, in the Kaihua District of Liaodong, at Xin'an Post Station.

In the autumn beyond the Great Wall, the sky is high and the clouds are light, and the air is already carrying a biting chill. On the vast black soil, the once boundless primeval forests and marsh meadows have, after twenty years of continuous development and reclamation, presented a completely different yet clearly defined landscape.

Centered on the newly built, wide and sturdy "Beida Straight Road," the view extends to large areas of neatly planned field ridges. These ridges stretch into the distance, often separated from other fields by straight irrigation ditches, windbreaks, or rammed earth roads, resembling a giant chessboard.

In most fields, the last crop of cold-resistant millet and wheat for the year has been harvested, leaving neat stubble that gleams a dry, pale gold in the sunlight. Along the edges of the fields stand uniformly styled wooden or rammed-earth granaries, windmills, and several settlements with wisps of smoke rising from their chimneys. The houses in these settlements are mostly built on brick and stone foundations, with log walls covered in thick thatch or tiles, arranged neatly in a grid pattern, clearly "immigrant villages" constructed according to standardized blueprints.

This is the core area of ​​the "Civilized Zone," an agricultural reclamation area dominated by the Chinese. After two large-scale, organized waves of immigration five and fifteen years after the establishment of the dynasty, along with scattered merchants, artisans, and military dependents who voluntarily moved north, the Chinese population, which was originally "almost non-existent" here, has suddenly increased to tens of millions.

They brought advanced agricultural tools and farming techniques from the Central Plains, as well as methods of crop rotation, composting, and seed selection strictly implemented according to the "Complete Treatise on Agriculture: Northern Regions" of the Hua Dynasty. This transformed this fertile land, which had once been so barren that "even a chopstick could sprout" but had never been systematically cultivated, into the empire's new granary and strategic depth.

However, if you look beyond these neat rows of fields and new villages, towards the more distant foothills, valleys, or hilly areas that have not been fully leveled, the scenery is quite different.

Scattered there are more primitive, low-lying shacks or semi-subterranean dwellings (earthen houses), with a chaotic layout, livestock and people living together, and the smoke coming out of the chimneys is thin.

These were settlements of other ethnic groups who were "invited out" of their fertile hunting and fishing grounds along rivers and mountains and relocated to more remote and barren "reservations" or designated reclaimed areas. They were mainly settlements of the Korean (Goryeo), Balhae (part of the Yanghe), Shiwei, and Khitan (which had been greatly weakened).

They were allowed to retain some of their traditional way of life, but they had to perform designated labor, such as building roads, digging canals, working in state-run forest farms and mines, and paying taxes on furs, mountain delicacies, and medicinal herbs.

Their able-bodied men were often incorporated into the "Fan Yong Camp," undertaking tasks such as patrolling, guiding, and assisting in transportation. Their clothing consisted mostly of coarse linen or animal hides spun by themselves, with mixed styles, contrasting sharply with the uniform gray, blue, and black coarse linen or short brown of the Chinese immigrants in the new villages.

They could trade with the Chinese to a limited extent, move freely within the civilized area (with a travel permit), and their personal safety was protected by law. The Chinese were not allowed to kill them at will.

However, they were explicitly prohibited from participating in local governance, and their children, no matter how talented, had absolutely no chance of entering the "Advanced Military Academy" or "Institute of Physics and Refinement," which were only open to the Chinese community. Their upward mobility was strictly limited to serving their own ethnic group or engaging in low-level technical work. This was a limited form of inclusion, but more importantly, it was a clear separation.

The most unique of all were the Jurchen tribes.

Their situation was far more dire than that of the other ethnic groups mentioned above. Most of the Jurchen tribes had been dispersed and moved from the mountains and rivers to be concentrated in several large, settlement-like areas near major roads, mines, or large logging camps.

These areas were surrounded by high walls and guarded by soldiers, with extremely strict management. Jurchens were not allowed to leave without permission and could only engage in the most arduous and dangerous labor, such as mining, logging, and building treacherous roads, within designated areas, supervised by Han foremen or low-ranking military officers. Their personal safety was theoretically protected (unprovoked killing would be punished), but that was all.

They had no land, no private property (their earnings were only enough to buy basic food and very few other necessities), no right to engage in commerce, and were not even allowed to possess "idle goods" beyond what was necessary for basic survival for exchange.

They had no opportunity for education, and even learning Chinese was forbidden, except for a very small number who were selected as interpreters. They had no right to litigation (in disputes involving the Chinese, the Jurchen were almost always the ones who were punished), and they had no freedom to leave the civilized areas and return to their ancestral lands.

Like a herd of cattle kept in captivity and used for labor, their only "right" is to live, and then exhaust their strength for the Chinese people's pioneering plans.

Although Chinese merchants were at the bottom of the imperial hierarchy of "scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants," paid high commercial taxes, and were often among the first to be encouraged (or semi-forced) to migrate when the court organized immigration (in order to revitalize the frontier economy), in this civilized region, even Chinese peddlers selling needles and thread from carts naturally carried a sense of superiority over the Jurchens.

Xin'an Post Station was an important node on the Beida Straight Road, and a place where new and old immigrants, as well as various ethnic groups, converged and mingled. The post station itself was a well-organized brick and stone building, providing accommodation for officials, soldiers, and merchants with official documents. Outside the post station, a bustling market naturally formed.

It was afternoon. The market was bustling with people and filled with noise.

Old Wang squatted by the edge of his newly allocated land, smoking his pipe and squinting at the bustling market not far away.

He was among the first group of farmers relocated from Dengzhou Prefecture, Shandong Province, in the fifteenth year of the Dingding Emperor's reign. Ten years later, their humble shack had been replaced by three spacious brick and wood houses. Their fifty mu of cultivated black soil yielded bountiful harvests year after year. Besides paying grain taxes, their granary was overflowing, and they raised pigs, sheep, chickens, and ducks. His eldest son had married a woman from the Chen family, who were also immigrants, two years prior, and his younger son was studying at the local school at the post station. The teacher reportedly praised his intelligence and said he might one day pass the exam to become an agricultural technician. Life was infinitely better than when they struggled on meager rented land back in their Shandong hometown. He was genuinely grateful to the imperial court and to the distant Emperor Hua.

"Uncle Wang, what are you looking at?"

Zhao, a peddler from the same village, passed by carrying a load of needles, thread, and buttons on one end and cheap candy and rough porcelain bowls on the other. He was among the second wave of immigrants. He originally ran a small general store in Dengzhou City, but was "encouraged" to move north. He was given a small plot of land and some resettlement money, so he went back to his old trade, traveling between various immigrant villages.

"Nothing much, just watching the fun."

Old Wang tapped his cigarette ash: "There seem to be quite a few unfamiliar faces at the market today?"

Zhao the peddler put down his load to rest, lowering his voice: "That's right! The second batch of people has been arriving in large numbers these past few days. The official immigration office at the post station is swamped with work. And those Koreans and Shiwei people are also coming to exchange goods, selling furs and mountain products, buying salt, iron, and cloth." As he spoke, he pursed his lips: "You have to be careful when dealing with them, and keep the accounts clear."

Wang Laoshuan nodded, his gaze sweeping across the edge of the market. There, several Korean hunters, dressed in bulky fur robes and with their hair tied in strange styles, were cautiously haggling with a Han Chinese cloth merchant over a few fox pelts and bundles of ginseng. The cloth merchant, haughty and fiddling with his abacus, offered a price that was clearly very low, but after much hesitation, the Koreans finally agreed. They needed salt and iron needles, and these were items that only Han Chinese merchants could legally sell in bulk.

Further away, on the dirt road outside the market, a group of Jurchen people, ragged, emaciated, and wearing heavy wooden shackles, walked silently past, driven by several Han Chinese soldiers wielding leather whips. Their heads were bowed, their eyes fixed blankly on the ground, unresponsive to the market's clamor, like walking corpses.

They were laborers off-duty from nearby mines, being escorted back to their settlement. The people in the market were used to this; they'd glance at them at most before continuing their business. No one felt sympathy, and few even thought there was anything wrong with it. In the eyes of the Han Chinese immigrants, these barbarians, who had wreaked havoc on the border in the past, were now only reaping what they sowed; their contribution to the great cause of civilization was already a great favor from His Majesty.

A young Han Chinese boy curiously threw a clod of dirt towards the Jurchen group, hitting an elderly Jurchen man on the back. The old man only staggered slightly, lowered his head even further, and quickened his pace.

"You little brat, go play somewhere else!"

The soldier next to him chuckled and scolded the boy, but had no real intention of stopping or punishing him.

Wang Laoshuan frowned, but said nothing. He also felt that these Jurchens weren't human, but seeing the old man being beaten made him feel uneasy. He turned his head away and refused to look.

"Have you heard?"

Zhao the peddler leaned closer and lowered his voice: "In the mountains to the north, there seems to be a Jurchen savage tribe that doesn't submit to the king's rule. They come down from time to time to plunder and have killed several lone lumberjacks and exploration team members. The garrison is currently suppressing them."

Old Wang's heart tightened: "Is it far from here?"

"It's not far, it's separated by two hundred miles of mountains and forests. But the government said that all villages should strengthen their vigilance, and all able-bodied men should participate in drills and be given weapons."

Zhao the peddler patted his waist, revealing a rough but sharp short knife: "I heard that there are quite a few people in the second batch of immigrants who know martial arts and have served in the army, so they can fill in the gaps."

As the two were talking, a commotion of carriages and horses came from the direction of the post station. A much more impressive procession of carriages and horses stopped in front of the post station, and several middle-aged men dressed in silk robes and wearing wealthy men's hats alighted. The one in the lead, with a ruddy complexion, was exchanging pleasantries with the post station manager who had come out to greet them. Judging from their attire and demeanor, they were clearly prominent merchants from the second wave of immigrants.

"See that? That's the owner of the 'Fengyu' ship. I heard he owns several weaving workshops in Jiangnan. This time he was 'mobilized' to go north, bringing his family, employees, and several cartloads of goods."

Zhao the peddler's tone was somewhat complicated, containing both envy and a hint of sourness from fellow merchants who were worlds apart: "When they come here, they're probably going to open big shops and do business with the government and the army, which is different from our small-scale operations."

Old Wang smacked his lips: "Merchants pay more taxes and make money faster. We farmers are more stable."

They saw the owner of the "Fengyu" ship sweep his gaze across the market, lingering particularly on the stalls set up by the Koreans and Shiwei people. He then whispered a few words to the accountant beside him, a shrewd and calculating smile spreading across his face. Clearly, in this hierarchically structured yet opportunity-filled land, he had spotted a new path to wealth—buying local specialties, selling Han Chinese goods, and perhaps even exploiting the power and information gaps between different ethnic groups to reap huge profits. Although merchants were considered the lowest class within the Han Chinese community, in this remote region, their status and influence among other ethnic groups were still not to be underestimated.

As the sun set, the chill deepened. The market gradually dispersed. The Han Chinese immigrants, driving their oxcarts and carrying their purchases, chatted and laughed as they returned to their warm and tidy new villages. The Koreans and Shiwei people also packed up their salt, iron, and cloth, silently heading towards their relatively simple settlements scattered along the mountains and rivers. The Jurchen laborers, however, had long since disappeared at the end of the road leading to their dimly lit settlement.

Wang Laoshuan also shouldered his hoe and walked home along the ridge of the field. In the distance, wisps of smoke rose from the direction of their village, merging into the vast twilight. Further north, the majestic mountains revealed their deep blue outlines in the afterglow of the setting sun; there lay the still-undeveloped, wild forests, a place of danger and the unknown.

He tightened his padded jacket, feeling both content with the stable life he had, and also a vague unease about the strict hierarchy and potential conflicts hidden beneath the prosperous order.

In the civilized region, the fields and villages of the Han Chinese were the bright and orderly main color scheme, while other ethnic groups were the gray and blurry backdrop, and the Jurchens were like stains on the edge of the painting, almost to be erased. All of this was unfolding methodically according to the will of His Majesty the Emperor Hua in Luoyang.

He was just an honest, simple farmer who couldn't see the bigger picture. He only knew to protect his own land and live his own life. As for other things, those were not his concerns.

As dusk settled, the north wind howled across the black earth, whipping up countless waves. The lights of the civilized district lit up one after another, illuminating this new world, clearly divided into classes under the will of the empire, in contrast to the cold stars in the sky.

Carrying a hoe, Wang Laoshuan trudged along the hard, dry clods of earth on the field ridges towards the village. The setting sun cast a long shadow of his hunched back, falling on the vast, empty black earth behind him, now fully harvested.

The chill in the air intensified, carrying the scents of earth and hay. In the distance, above the dozens of brick-and-wood houses of Beiwang Village, all with a uniform style, wisps of smoke rose straight up in the windless twilight, exuding a peaceful warmth.

The village was built according to a unified plan fifteen years after the founding of the dynasty. It has three main streets running horizontally and vertically, and every household has three main rooms with a front yard, while the back yard contains livestock sheds and vegetable gardens. Compared to the crowded, chaotic, and unchanging villages of my hometown in Shandong, this place is so clean it's almost rigid, but after living here for a while, you feel at ease. Especially in winter, the thick walls and tightly sealed windows can withstand the bone-chilling "white-haired winds" from beyond the Great Wall. (End of Chapter)