My life is like walking on thin ice

Chapter 530 Another Autumn
When the Chanyu returned from his western expedition, he brought back rare items from the Western Regions and even Central Asia.

At the same time, as promised when they left, they brought back autumn.

--autumn.

The nomadic people of the grasslands are the most prosperous and at ease, while the Han people who cultivate the land are also at their busiest time of the year.

While "busy season" and "slack season" are broad and general terms, they can still be subdivided into several time periods based on the intensity of farmers' labor.

For example, in spring, farmers say they are busy sowing and spring plowing, but in reality, they are only busy for the first few days.

Once the seeds are sown and watered, all you need to do is stay in the field and wait for the seedlings to sprout before you can relax.

The following two months, although also the busy farming season, were not very busy.

Besides the established irrigation schedules and water amounts, what farmers need to do during this period is simply to remove weeds and catch pests.

These tasks don't require a mature, able-bodied farmer to do—any few children can take care of them while playing.

What farmers should really worry about is the competition for water resources and ensuring timely and adequate irrigation.

The real "busy season" in farming is actually the autumn harvest and the final sprint before the harvest.

At this crucial moment when everything is down to the last hurdle, farmers always involuntarily become tense.

After all, for future generations of students, this single exam determines only their future.

For farmers—especially those in feudal times—the quality of a year's harvest directly determined whether someone in the family would starve to death, whether a child would be sold to a wealthy household as a slave, and even whether their bloodline could continue.

So even knowing it's pointless, at this time of year, farmers will always find the most experienced and knowledgeable elders they can reach to help them predict this year's harvest.

Even if they receive positive feedback from elders such as "This year's harvest is good, it's a bumper year" or "You've done a good job with your crops this year, your harvest will be better than others," the farmers dare not slack off in the slightest.

Irrigation, weeding, and even offering sacrifices to ancestors and gods—they spared no effort, all in pursuit of a good harvest.

For the past few years—and even for the past thousands of years—this is how the common people of the Chinese nation have lived.

But this year, or rather in recent years, the atmosphere around the autumn harvest in Guanzhong has been much more relaxed than ever before.

The farmers were busy working in an orderly manner, and although they instinctively felt both anticipation and trepidation, they were undoubtedly much calmer.

The elderly are no longer visited by younger generations, nor do they feel uneasy taking the initiative to go to the fields to give their opinions.

It's as if they're completely unconcerned and absolutely certain that this year, or even every year, will be a bumper harvest. They sit leisurely under the roots of an old tree, enjoying the cool shade, chatting and laughing with two or three old friends, and basking in the joy of being surrounded by their children and grandchildren.

As for why this is the case?

Of course, it wasn't because the Han dynasty's farmers had truly achieved the epic feat of 'unconditional bumper harvests every year'.

Instead, the farmers of the Han Dynasty, especially those in the Guanzhong region, no longer have their fate for the entire year decided by the autumn harvest.

To put it simply, let's talk about ten years ago, when Emperor Xiaojing had just ascended the throne.

The somber atmosphere following the death of Emperor Taizong Xiaowen lingered in the air for a long time.

Inside and outside the court, there was praise and admiration for the deceased Emperor Taizong—even back then, there were already accusations of the 'Prosperous Era of Emperor Xiaowen'.

It might be an exaggeration to say that everyone in the world is grateful to Emperor Taizong.

However, in the Guanzhong region, everyone was deeply grateful to Emperor Taizong and would not tolerate anyone slandering or defaming him. If anyone showed the slightest disrespect, they would be immediately punished severely, and this was not an exaggeration at all.

That was the first time in the feudal history of China that such a prosperous era had appeared.

Everyone feels fortunate and proud to live in such a wonderful era.

But beneath this prosperous facade and under that beautiful sky, there are still some corners where the sunlight cannot reach, stained by the blood and tears of the people at the bottom of society.

For example, under the benevolent rule of Emperor Taizong, who reduced taxes and allowed the people to rest, created various pretexts to bestow titles, and frequently granted wine, meat, and cloth as gifts, while intermittently exempting farmers from agricultural taxes and routinely exempting them from labor services, a farmer's life, if not particularly prosperous, was at least increasingly hopeful.

The stability that lasted for more than ten or twenty years allowed this farmer to gradually grow from someone who was extremely poor, struggling to make ends meet, emaciated, and weak in the hands and feet, into an experienced old farmer.

The family's hundred acres of fertile land can support the family's daily food supply, as well as the expenses for firewood, rice, oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, and tea—not to mention being full every meal, they can at least eat until they are about 70% full.

The old farmer thanked his ancestors, thanked Heaven, and was even more grateful to Emperor Taizong Xiaowen for bringing him all this wonderful life.

Until one year, during the autumn harvest.

Whether it was an experienced elder or an agricultural official sent down by the government to inspect the harvest, everyone said that this year would be a bumper year.

And it was a bumper harvest!

The old farmer was full of expectations and enthusiasm, taking excellent care of the millet in the field, even more carefully than he would a new bride!
When the harvest day arrived, everything seemed to indicate a bountiful harvest, but as the old farmer, with a smile on his face, piled up the harvested millet, he instinctively frowned.

——Why is it so little?
Subconsciously glancing to the left and right, at a glance, he could roughly estimate that everyone had indeed had a bumper harvest.

The old farmer's harvest was strangely meager.

Clinging to a last shred of hope, the old farmer weighed all the harvested millet, and his anxiety finally subsided.

A little over two hundred shi (a unit of dry measure).

It is nearly one-third less than the average grain yield in Guanzhong: three shi per mu!

The old farmer couldn't believe what he was seeing and began to frantically deny the reality.

They went to the government office to report the incident, but the officers who came to investigate clearly told them that there were no signs of theft or cutting.

He doubted the measuring instruments, but was mercilessly berated by the cold-faced tax collector. He also saw the rice and grain in his neighbor's and fellow villager's homes, and the measured figures were all very encouraging.

Before the old farmer could recover from his shock, the tax collector had already taken away his seven bushels of agricultural tax, which was levied at a rate of one-thirtieth of the harvest.

The poll tax was also converted into several bushels of grain and taken away, leaving only the old farmer's family with less than two hundred bushels of grain.

No matter how bitter or difficult things get, life must go on.

The old farmer had no choice but to muster his strength and take the two hundred bushels of grain home.

At home, there are seven people: myself, my wife, two young sons, and three unmarried women.

Although they wanted to keep more, the outbuilding in the house, which was used as a granary, could only hold fifty bushels of grain in the end.

The old farmer sighed helplessly and, with the remaining 150 bushels of grain, went to find the most honest grain merchant in the area.

Unexpectedly, the grain merchant said: This year's harvest is bumper, and the grain is not selling for a good price. He can only buy grain at a price of forty coins per shi (a unit of dry measure).

The old farmer couldn't understand why this year's harvest was so bountiful.

At least the old farmers didn't realize that this year was a bumper harvest.

But the old farmer had no choice, and dared not think too deeply about it, fearing that he would be defeated by the cruel reality.

One hundred and fifty shi of grain, at a price of forty coins per shi, were exchanged for a total of six thousand coins.

Among them, there was a small portion of three zhu coins, which was already the fairest and most generous payment among the grain merchants who bought the grain.

Returning home with the money, the old farmer forced himself not to think about it and went to winter with his wife and kitten. As the saying goes, a half-grown boy can eat his father out of house and home.

Even with five of the family members being immature children, the remaining elderly farmer and his wife, who couldn't eat as much as the young and strong, couldn't survive the fifty bushels of grain they had set aside until winter turned to spring.

When spring came, the old farmer's family already owed their neighbor twenty bushels of grain.

The owed grain must be repaid, and the grain seeds must be purchased.

Of the six thousand coins earned from selling grain in the autumn, only a few hundred were spent on firewood, rice, oil, and salt; the rest remained.

When the old man, filled with trepidation, entered the town with the five thousand coins and arrived outside the grain shop, he could no longer hold on and collapsed to the ground.

—This past winter, several grain merchants' granaries were afflicted with the plague, and all the grain was wasted!
Last year's bumper harvest meant that a significant portion of the locally produced grain was sold to other regions.

Of the remaining portion, nearly half was abandoned, leading to a sudden food shortage.

Therefore, in the spring, the price of grain skyrocketed from a high of forty coins per shi after the autumn harvest last year to a low of seventy coins per shi, and the supply was limited and available on a first-come, first-served basis!

The old farmer lowered his head blankly, looking at the money bag he was carrying.

Five thousand coins could only buy less than eighty bushels of grain, of which twenty bushels had to be used to repay the neighbor's debt.

Last winter, the family ate porridge every meal and still managed to consume seventy bushels of grain.

Now, from the beginning of spring until the autumn harvest, the family only has sixty bushels of grain left.

This doesn't even include the cost of grain seeds, firewood, rice, oil, salt, and the rationing of grain, which will inevitably increase over time.

And then there are the two boys in the family; they grew quite a bit in just one winter. They already had big appetites, and then they went through a winter of not having enough to eat…
The old farmer wanted to cry, but couldn't utter a sound.

You want to blame someone or something, but you have no idea who to blame.

Back home, he and his wife sat in silence, and soon, the couple silently wiped away their tears.

That year, two of the old farmer's three daughters were sold to wealthy families.

One was luckier and won the favor of her master, marrying another young slave and thus starting a family.

The other was a young child who died under mysterious circumstances.

—Of her two sons, one died from hunger and illness, and the other suffered health problems due to prolonged hunger.

Before the autumn harvest, the old wife collapsed from exhaustion and was bedridden, and the old farmer also felt increasingly weak in his hands and feet.

The family has only one young daughter who is still learning to speak and can't even speak clearly yet, so she takes care of the household chores.

He had only one son, who was thin and injured, but he forced himself to go to the fields to help the old farmer plow the land.

Until autumn.

The nightmare of the year was finally coming to an end, and the old farmer's family finally saw a glimmer of hope. However, the old woman could no longer hold on and died.

All the grain harvested in the autumn was used for the old woman's funeral.

The old farmer sat blankly on the threshold of his dilapidated farmhouse, watching the hurried pedestrians on the street, oblivious to the increasingly violent coughing of his son and the increasingly emaciated figure of his daughter behind him.

I just stood there, lost in thought, pondering: Who was really in the wrong...?

Almost every farmer in the Han Dynasty had such a nightmare.

Many farmers who were barely able to make a living were reduced to tenant farmers, slaves, or even lost their families after experiencing such a nightmare.

People often say: Wealth doesn't last more than three generations.

Because wealthy families spoil their children, the family fortune will only last for three generations before being squandered by their disdainful descendants.

Some people jokingly say: poverty doesn't last more than three generations.

At first glance, it seems to suggest that poor children learn to be independent early, and that if three generations of poverty are maintained, a determined and hardworking member may emerge to bring honor to the family.

But this is not the case.

At least in feudal times, the saying "poverty doesn't last three generations" had only one standard interpretation.

If three generations remain poor, there will be no fourth generation.

This family is going to die of poverty.

Today, however, the farmers of the Han Dynasty no longer worry about such a thing happening.

Grain prices remain constant!

Although it was much lower than in the past—26 coins per shi in autumn, and 28 to 30 coins the following year, with occasional fluctuations of 1 coin up or down.

But just like in feudal times, they didn't seek change, but rather stability.

Farmers in feudal times preferred stable grain prices to soaring prices and the prospect of profiting from selling grain.

At least the selling and buying prices shouldn't differ too much, or even double, causing farmers to grow 300 bushels of grain but end up not even being able to eat 100 bushels themselves.

Admittedly, the common people and farmers of the Han Dynasty remained poor.

But they were poor but lived a very fulfilling life.

No longer like in the past, living in constant uncertainty, never knowing when they would be crushed by the overwhelming tide.

Furthermore, grain prices have decreased, but the harvest has increased.

In the past, farmers would grow one crop of millet a year, and the income would be no more than forty coins per shi (a unit of dry measure). After deducting taxes, the total income would be only about ten thousand coins.

Nowadays, farmers plant millet in spring and harvest it in autumn, and then replant wheat. With the help of the alternative farming method promoted by large-scale farmers, farmers in Guanzhong can grow an additional crop of wheat every year in addition to the default millet crop.

Millet yielded 26 coins per shi, and wheat yielded 45 coins per shi. With a harvest of nearly 300 shi each, the income would be close to 20,000 coins!

My income has increased, and I have more money in my hands.

Most importantly, the grain harvest has increased.

With an abundance of grain, there will be no shortage of food in the world, and farmers will no longer have to worry about going hungry.

And all of this is not a fleeting dream that will end at any moment.

—The successive-field system, waterwheels, and fertilizer made from human and animal excrement all contributed to increasing the crop yields of the Han people to new heights every year.

Last year, the highest yields in Guanzhong were 6 shi per mu for millet and 8.5 shi per mu for winter wheat!
Although both are located north of the Wei River and are fields where only millet or wheat is grown, the farmers in Guanzhong still have increasingly high hopes for the future.

Life is good enough, and there is hope for the future.

Such a period seemed no less prosperous than the "Reign of Wen and Jing" as described by scholars and officials.

Even more so, if not worse...
(End of this chapter)