Three Kingdoms: A Million Soldiers Grown from the Fields

Chapter 260 Business

Northwest of Taiyuan Prefecture lies a remote yet picturesque mountain valley.

The pines and cypresses are lush and green, silent and still, with only the whisper of the mountain wind rustling through the treetops and a few clear birdsongs.

An unassuming yet neatly maintained earthen mound stands quietly, without any ornate stone tablet, only a rough, unpolished bluestone in front of it, with a few words engraved on it in simple clerical script.

The Tomb of Zhang Gong of Julu

The absence of a name or honorific title was Zhang Xian's intention, serving both as a form of protection for the deceased and as a low-key arrangement.

This place is remote and rarely visited.

Zhang Ning, dressed in a plain white dress, knelt before the grave, her slender shoulders trembling slightly.

Her long, jet-black hair was simply tied up with a wooden hairpin, revealing her slender yet resolute profile. Nearly two years in Bingzhou had washed away the last trace of the bewilderment and vulnerability she had felt in Guangzong City.

The marks of wind and sun are faintly visible on her skin, but her eyes have become even calmer and brighter.

She was no longer the "daughter of the Heavenly General" who relied solely on her father's legacy, but a "pacification envoy" who could penetrate deep into the Taihang Mountains, persuade the Yellow Turban rebels of the Black Mountain, and appease the people.

She carefully arranged the simple offerings she brought—a few light cakes that Zhang Jiao might have liked to eat in his lifetime, a pot of water—before bowing deeply, her forehead touching the cool earth, and remained there for a long time.

Silent tears finally fell, soaking the fresh soil in front of the grave.

A thousand words are stuck in my chest: longing for my father, grief over the tragic past, and complex feelings about my current situation.

Zhang Xian stood behind her, with his hands behind his back.

He didn't disturb Zhang Ning, but stood quietly, his gaze also fixed on the simple blue stone, his eyes deep, carrying a hint of respect and sigh.

He secretly sent people to move Zhang Jiao's body back from Guangzong and bury him, thus giving this giant who had stirred up the world a peaceful final resting place.

After a long while, Zhang Ning's sobs gradually subsided.

She straightened up, forcefully wiped away the tears on her face with her sleeve, took a deep breath, and regained her usual composure, though her eyes were still red.

"Thank you, Lord Zhang." She didn't turn around.

"Let my father... rest in peace here. This place is good, very quiet. He... is tired and needs to rest."

"It is my duty."

Zhang Xian's voice was calm: "He was a man of outstanding talent. Although we had different paths, his aspirations were admirable. He should not have been left to die in the wilderness, to be trampled on and criticized by future generations."

Zhang Ning remained silent for a moment, then slowly stood up and turned to Zhang Xian.

The mountain breeze stirred her clothes and hair. Her gaze was fixed on Zhang Xian, a gaze that held gratitude, scrutiny, and a sense of composure.

“Bingzhou is very good, better than any ‘peaceful world’ that my father and I had ever imagined. The people have land to cultivate, jobs to do, children to read books, and medical care when they are sick. Although life is still hard, there is light in their eyes and strength in their bodies.”

She paused, her tone becoming somewhat complicated: "Sometimes I wonder, if my father had seen all this back then, would he have chosen a different path?"

Zhang Xian shook his head and looked toward the distant mountains: "It was the time and the circumstances. Without the beacon fires of Julu back then, there might not be room for reform in Bingzhou today. The price was heavy, but the wheel of history is often soaked in blood and tears."

What we can do is ensure that these tears and blood are not shed in vain, and that those who survive can embark on a safer and more hopeful path.

His words were almost cold, but they were also the truth of this world.

Zhang Ning remained silent. She knew it was true. The blood of the Yellow Turbans, to some extent, nourished many ambitious people in the Han Dynasty, including those in Bingzhou.

The atmosphere fell silent again, with only the sound of the wind passing by.

Zhang Xian suddenly spoke up, the topic shifting somewhat abruptly, yet seemingly logically: "Wenruo, Fengxiao, Han Ji, and Wang Lie, a few days ago, jointly submitted a suggestion to me."

Zhang Ning looked up at him, a questioning look in her eyes.

"About our marriage."

Zhang Xian spoke directly, without any beating around the bush: "They believe that marrying you as a secondary wife would greatly benefit the stability of Bingzhou, appease the millions of Yellow Turban rebels and refugees, and even be a good move for recruiting the various tribes of the Black Mountain in the future."

He paused for a moment, then looked into Zhang Ning's eyes: "I have also discussed this matter with Wan'er, and she... has no objection."

The mountain breeze seemed to freeze at that moment.

Zhang Ning's body stiffened almost imperceptibly, and her fingers curled up unconsciously.

She hadn't expected Zhang Xian to be here, and to so directly bring this matter up now.

She was exceptionally intelligent and naturally understood the political considerations involved.

Her identity has always been that of a special and sensitive figure under Zhang Xian's command.

Marriage is the most direct and secure way to form a bond.

She didn't answer immediately, but turned around again and looked at her father's tombstone. She guessed why Zhang Xian was talking about this here. He was talking to her, and also to her father.

After a long silence, her voice rang out, very calm: "What the general needs is a symbol, a bond, something that will allow the word 'Yellow Turbans' to be completely integrated into Bingzhou."

And I happen to be the most suitable one, right?

She tilted her head slightly, glancing at Zhang Xian out of the corner of her eye: "Just like how you resettled the refugees, promoted the new plow, and built workshops, every step was the best arrangement, right?"

Zhang Xian did not deny it, but said calmly, "Bingzhou is the foundation of everything. Every step is related to survival, prosperity and decline, and the lives of more than a million people who follow me. I cannot help but consider it."

He then changed the subject: "But it wasn't all scheming."

Zhang Ning finally turned around completely and looked him straight in the eye.

Zhang Xian's gaze was frank and profound: "If you were merely Zhang Jiao's daughter, I might heed your advice, grant you a title, and raise you in luxury in a secluded mansion, serving as a memorial tablet. But you are not."

His tone carried a hint of approval: "You are brave enough to venture deep into the Taihang Mountains on your own. You are capable of living and eating with the refugees in Zhaoyuze, quelling their grievances, and organizing production. You are resourceful enough to understand obscure official documents and reports and offer your own insights. You are intelligent. You have done a better job as the garrison commander than anyone expected."

He took a small step forward, closing the distance, his voice low but clear: "Marrying you is indeed a political consideration, but if you were just a caged bird, I wouldn't care too much about your thoughts. But it is precisely because you are Zhang Ning, who can stand on your own and work with the talents under my command, that this matter is worth bringing up seriously."

His words lacked any romantic veneer and were even somewhat cold, but they gave Zhang Ning a sense of being respected and grounded.

He did not see her merely as a symbol that needed to be comforted, but rather recognized her abilities and value as an individual.

Zhang Ning's heart began to pound violently.

She recalled everything she had seen, heard, and done during her one or two years in Bingzhou.

Those thriving workshops, those schools where students read aloud, those hopeful faces in the fields, and the man before her... He may have his own schemes, but he is truly building a different world, a world that her father once dreamed of but misused.

She looked at her father's grave again.

a long time.

She took a deep breath of the crisp mountain air and made her decision. Her gaze regained its firmness and clarity as she looked at Zhang Xian, no longer as a subordinate addressing her superior, but rather as if engaging in an equal dialogue.

“I understand. If it is beneficial to the overall situation in Bingzhou, if… Lord Zhang truly believes that I, Zhang Ning, have this value, and not just a title.”

She paused slightly: "I agree."

There was no shyness, no coyness, only a calm and decisive attitude after careful consideration.

Children of turbulent times, especially those with her experiences, have long been accustomed to finding cracks for survival and purpose amidst the harsh realities of life.

Zhang Xian nodded, his face showing neither joy nor excitement, as if he had simply finalized an important personnel appointment.

"Okay, I will have Wenruo and Wan'er handle the specifics after the meeting. You won't be wronged."

After the business was over, the atmosphere between the two seemed to ease slightly, but the sudden engagement added an indescribable awkwardness and stiffness.

Zhang Xian seemed to want to break the atmosphere. He glanced around and suddenly said, "Speaking of which, those promising young men you brought back from Black Mountain, especially that boy named Chu Yan, are quite skilled and courageous. I've had them put into the elite troops."

Upon hearing this, Zhang Ning's attention was indeed diverted, and he raised an eyebrow: "Chu Yan? That kid is unruly and difficult to tame. Can he adapt to the rules of the Elite Battalion?"

"Rules are meant to temper one's wildness," Zhang Xian said calmly.

"In a month or two at most, even a piece of stubborn iron can be forged into steel. I don't expect them to immediately become model soldiers who obey orders without question, but at least we need to wear away that undisciplined,江湖-like attitude and solidify the foundation for battle on the battlefield."

What I need is not hundreds of obedient elite soldiers, but rather a few promising generals who can lead an army independently and charge into battle.

He didn't say anything more about the Elite Battalion, but Zhang Ning could imagine the high pressure and rigorous training involved; she still vividly remembered the initial training of the Anbei Army.

After the memorial service was over and the marriage was arranged, the two said no more and left the quiet mountain valley one after the other in silence.

Only that solitary grave remains, quietly bathed in the mountain light and forest shadows, as if silently agreeing to the marriage.

Once you descend the mountain, you return to the everyday life of ordinary people.

The bustling city of Jinyang and the tranquil mountains seem like two different worlds.

Even before the spring planting season was over, commercial activities in the city were exceptionally lively.

Under Zhang Xian's rule, he did not follow the "emphasis on agriculture and suppression of commerce" proposition of some corrupt scholars. On the contrary, he believed that smooth trade was the lifeline for revitalizing the economy, allocating resources, and enriching the treasury.

Of course, this "emphasis" is different from laissez-faire. On the contrary, the laws and taxes on commerce are the most stringent in the entire Bingzhou.

If they don't commit any crimes, everything will be fine; but once they do, what awaits the merchants is the guillotine of the judicial authorities.

In a corner of the West Market, wisps of smoke rise from chimneys, filling the air with enticing aromas.

Under the sign of "Old Xu's Bakery," a crowd of citizens and migrant workers waited to buy breakfast.

The shop owner, Old Man Xu, deftly pulled golden-brown, crispy flatbreads from the oven, calling out in a loud voice, "Freshly baked flatbreads! Three coins each! Five for one yuan! Honest and fair dealing!"

A man dressed in a workshop-style short jacket squeezed through the crowd and handed over a grain coupon marked one yuan: "Old Xu, take five quickly! Hurry up and get to work!"

"Alright!" Old Xu took the money, neatly wrapped up five cakes and handed them over. He then pulled out a small wooden sign from under the stall and drew a line on it with a charcoal pencil.

"Fifth boy, you've bought thirty pancakes from me this month, so I'll give you a meat-filled one for free!"

This is a microcosm of Zhang Xian's "honest business practices" and "bookkeeping and tax payment" principles.

Every merchant had similar records. Every half month, the market officials would come to check the turnover and collect commercial tax at a rate of one-tenth. This tax rate was definitely high at that time. In other places, commercial tax exceeding six percent was considered a heavy tax, but in Bingzhou, the commercial tax was as heavy as one-tenth.

However, commercial activities in Bingzhou were relatively profitable, and the city had excellent public security with little exploitation.

Old Xu didn't have many complaints about this; in his words, it was...

"Paying taxes is only right and proper! With the former general building roads and bridges and sending troops to patrol the streets, our business is running smoothly. We don't have to worry about local thugs or extortion by government officials. Paying some taxes makes us feel at ease! Compared to back in our hometown, where we had to pay more than this amount to the village head and clerks, and still suffer their mistreatment!"

Next door to the pancake stall was a small general store, where the proprietress, Sun San Niang, was smiling as she saw off an old customer who had bought needles, thread, and fabric.

Her shop was filled with a wide variety of goods, from inexpensive but sturdy iron needles, scissors, and cotton cloth produced in Bingzhou workshops to bamboo ware and leather goods from the south.

A piece of paper with an official seal was prominently displayed on her counter, which read "Genuine goods at fair prices, full weight and quantity," and a standard market scale was hanging next to it.

While attending to customers and packing their orders, Sun San Niang reminisced with her regular customers.

“When I sold things before, although I was afraid that if I was short an inch or two, the customers would come back and cause trouble, but I didn’t care too much.”

"But that's not possible now. The clerks from the Judicial Office come in disguise to check every few days. If they find you shortchanging customers once, the fines are painful, and if you shortchange them three times, they'll shut you down and kick you out! Who would dare to shortchange customers now? Everyone is doing business properly now, and customers are more at ease, and there are far fewer problems!"

The regular customer took the package from Sun San Niang and laughed, "Guess why I thought it was heavy just because you said so? Hahaha, do you think I believed you?"

"I trust the market officials and the judicial officers!"

After saying that, the man picked up the package and walked out of the general store, which made Sun San Niang laugh and scold him from behind.

Further away, the entrance to a newly opened "Jinyang Auto Dealership" was even more bustling.

Several uniformly designed, larger and sturdier four-wheeled carriages than traditional carriages were preparing to depart, with uniform numbers and the words "Jinyang-Lishi" painted on their bodies.

These were private transportation companies encouraged by the government to undertake freight and passenger transport. They were required to pay a substantial franchise tax and business tax, but they were also protected by the government and enjoyed priority access to official roads.

The driver loudly announced the destination and departure time, while the waiters busied themselves helping passengers with their luggage and collecting fees.

Merchants from the north and south, people visiting relatives, and even a few people carrying book baskets who looked like traveling scholars all gathered here, creating a bustling scene.

Zhang Xian and Zhang Ning abandoned the carriage and rode their horses slowly through the bustling market.

Looking at this vibrant and orderly business scene, Zhang Ning's eyes revealed a complex expression.

This profession, which was considered "cunning" and "exploitative" in the doctrines of Taiping Dao, appeared so... vibrant and necessary under Zhang Xian's management.

It provided employment, facilitated the circulation of goods, made things convenient for the people, and continuously provided nourishment to Bingzhou.

"Think it's weird?"

Zhang Xian turned his head as if he could see through her thoughts, and said calmly: "Business is like water. It's better to guide than to block. If you set the rules and draw the channels, it can irrigate fertile fields and nourish all things."

If left to its own devices, it will lead to devastating floods; if forcibly blocked, it will become stagnant and the land will dry up. The key lies not in commerce itself, but in regulation and trust. Commerce, simply put, is the result of exchanging goods based on mutual trust.

Zhang Ning seemed to be deep in thought.

She increasingly realized that governing a region is far more complex than simply destroying and shouting, and requires much more wisdom and strength.

The man beside her seemed to always know where to set the rules and where to let the floodgates open.

(End of this chapter)