Three Kingdoms: A Million Soldiers Grown from the Fields

Chapter 4: A Compassionate Heart Sharpens the Edge (Please continue reading)

"What will happen to them in the future?" As the horse slowed down, Zhang Xian asked, looking at the numb, blank faces staring in their direction.

Although Xiahou Lan was not as talented as Zhao Yun, he was more knowledgeable about the ways of the world. He said, "They will go hungry for a while longer. When there is nothing left to eat around, the powerful clans will send people to issue them indentures. Those who sign will become the private property of the powerful families, and those who do not sign will be left to their own devices and drift along with the crowd."

These are all common practices; perhaps the reason the county government doesn't bother with them is because the wealthy households have demands.

"That's it"

Zhang Xian's knuckles, gripping the reins, were slightly white, and his voice trembled slightly.

"Young masters, please have pity on us and give us some food. Good deeds will be rewarded, and God will bless you to become high-ranking officials and bring glory to your ancestors."

Perhaps seeing that they had slowed down, or perhaps seeing three rather childish faces, the refugees on both sides of the road mustered their courage and stepped forward to beg.

Subconsciously, Zhang Xian reached into his robes, where there were a few pieces of cornbread given to them by the village elders when they left the village, which they said to eat when they got hungry on the road.

He grabbed one, but when he saw the emaciated children following behind the beggars, he took out all the cornbread and bent down to hand it to the beggars.

"Thank you, young master, I am so grateful to you, young master." The old woman, her face gaunt and bony, kowtowed to Zhang Xian repeatedly, while wolfing down cornbread as if afraid someone would come and snatch it away.

Just as Zhang Xian was about to dismount and help, Xiahou Lan shouted, then quickly pulled Zhang Xian and slapped the horse's rump.

The horse suddenly sped up after being slapped, and Zhang Xian swayed slightly, startled, and quickly grabbed the horse's neck.

"Ah Yun, hurry up and keep up."

"Oh"

Xiahou Lan and Zhao Yun quickly followed and protected Zhang Xian's horse in the middle.

After Zhang Xian steadied himself, he looked back.

At this moment, Zhang Xiancai understood why Xiahou Lan had shouted and provoked his horse.

Behind them, the refugees had gathered in one place. They had originally been scattered on both sides of the road, but after Zhang Xian gave alms, they suddenly gathered together. If it weren't for Xiahou Lan's quick thinking, they would probably have been surrounded by now.

The thought of those hungry, almost green eyes filled Zhang Xian with dread.

"Brother Lan, thanks. Luckily you were quick-witted."

He expressed his gratitude to Xiahou Lan.

Xiahou Lan shook her head and smiled shyly, "Of course, the teacher knows that Brother Xian is kind-hearted, so he asked us to come along."

"Facts have proven that Brother Ming is indeed a kind-hearted person. However, Brother Ming, our teacher often taught us that when people are starving, kindness and righteousness are the most deadly measures."

Zhang Xian tightened his grip on the reins; he had already seen the old woman who had just received the cornbread being pushed and shoved by the crowd.

Good intentions led to bad outcomes. Knowing full well that the problem lies not in scarcity but in inequality, how could one be so foolish?
Was the impact of witnessing it firsthand too great?

He wanted to help, but hesitated. He didn't dare to kill anyone, nor did he have the awareness to do so. His fingers and palms were clenched until they turned white.

"They've dispersed, the old woman went back to her shack, Brother Xian, everything's alright."

"Um"

The horse continued trotting.

For the rest of the journey, Zhang Xian remained somewhat silent, while Zhao Yun occasionally cast worried glances his way.

The closer to Zhending County, the more scattered shacks there are, and the more refugees there are.

There were no fewer than two thousand. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have had any concept of refugees at all, but after seeing it with his own eyes...
When cold, hard numbers became the people he saw...
He took a deep breath, straightened his chest a bit, and his gaze became much more focused, as if he had come to some realization.

"Brother Xian."

Zhao Yun, who was always watching him, felt that his brother Xian seemed to have become a different person, and couldn't help but voice his concern.

Zhang Xian turned his head and smiled warmly: "It's nothing. I've thought some things through. Don't worry about me."

"Oh," Zhao Yun said absentmindedly. The way Xian Ge looked at him just now felt familiar.

Like the night a few years ago when his older brother looked at him and his mother after learning of their father's death, his eyes were filled with sadness, but also with determination.

From that day on, he sensed that his elder brother had become busier, and his mother often told him that his elder brother was becoming more and more like his father, something he had never understood.

But seeing that similar look in his eyes again today, he seemed to understand somewhat.
The horse continued its pace, and Zhang Xian no longer avoided the gazes of the refugees looking at him.

He knew that he couldn't change anything right now, and that no matter how much he thought or said, it was all just castles in the air.

Only by firmly believing in the path he is on can he create something he wants to give to this era.

"Just you wait and see what happens in this world!"

A soft murmur lingered in the wind, and the horse quickened its pace, galloping towards the city walls not far away.

Not long after Zhang Xian left, a middle-aged man who looked like a Taoist priest arrived with a group of people from the imperial road.

He looked at the disaster victims on both sides of the road, said "sorrowful," and then waved.

"Distribute porridge and burn yellow talismans to relieve the suffering of the world!"

"promise!"

The group of believers following behind him familiarly began to set up earthenware pots, and many of them, dressed as Taoist priests, lit talismans and spread some message among the disaster victims.

The city gate, with its mottled blue bricks, stands over three zhang tall. The lacquered wooden door, covered in iron sheets, is wide open in the dust and light. A straight path paved with bluestone leads inward, with shadowy figures moving about.

Zhang Xian and his two companions walked along the streets of Zhen Ding County, leading their horses. At this moment, he had little interest in appreciating the ancient scenery.

"Brother Xian, shall we go straight to the Guo family's house?"

Zhao Yun, leading his horse and carrying a long spear slung across his shoulder, asked.

Zhang Xian nodded: "Yes, finish the business in Zhen Ding County as soon as possible, get what I want, and then leave."

"What does Brother Xian want? Is it a household registration?" Xiahou Lan asked curiously.

The three had become acquainted in the small mountain village. Although Zhang Xian's main target at first was Zhao Yun, after spending several days together, he discovered that Xiahou Lan was also a very good young man.

"No, what I want is a period of peace and tranquility."

Along the way, Zhang Xian had come to realize what he truly needed: not a household registration, nor any connection with the Guo family; what he needed most was a period of stable development.

Healing the young son of the Guo family would give him face, and with the Guo family's prestige in Changshan, he could avoid a lot of trouble. In ancient times, it wasn't as simple as just wanting to live peacefully.

Taxes, corvée labor, and military service are all responsibilities of ordinary people. Leaving aside taxes, the main concerns are corvée labor and military service. The former requires ordinary people to spend at least a quarter of their time each year, while military service is even more demanding, with short-term service often starting at a month and long-term service being calculated in years.

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(End of this chapter)