Great Wilderness Demon Lord

On the evening of the third day, the last wheat field was successfully harvested, and all 600 acres of farmland were harvested, with the faint fragrance of grain still lingering on the field ridges.

Xiao Yunlan stood at the edge of the field, gazing at the newly harvested crops. His weariness seemed to have faded, and he turned to Old Liu beside him, asking in a steady tone, "Is it still possible to plow and sow?"

"There's still time!" Old Liu smiled, his face full of wrinkles, his tone confident. "The land has just been harvested, and the soil is still loose. We can start plowing tomorrow, and after that, we can sow winter wheat immediately. We can plant it before mid-August, just in time."

Xiao Yunlan nodded slightly and said no more. He immediately instructed Steward Wu to make proper arrangements for the manpower to turn the land the next day.

The day after the summer harvest, as soon as it was light, the work of turning the soil began in full swing.

It was still the same group of more than 500 people, but they changed their hoes and plows and started working on the fields that had just been harvested in the west of the city.

Old Liu led several elderly farmers ahead, giving clear and orderly instructions on which plots needed deep plowing, which needed shallow turning, and which needed manure to be spread first.

Xiao Yunlan also personally got down to the ground, took off his heavy general's robe, and wore only a single garment. He rolled up his sleeves and mingled among the crowd, burying himself in turning over the soil. When his personal guards saw this, they wanted to step forward to dissuade him, but he gently stopped them with a raised hand.

"We're short-handed in the fields, what am I supposed to do if I'm just sitting around doing nothing?"

Turning the soil is more strenuous than harvesting. The hoe is swung high and slammed into the soil to break up the hardened clods and then the underlying subsoil is turned up.

One stroke of the hoe can only turn over a patch the size of a palm; it takes dozens of strokes to cultivate a single furrow.

The new recruits were panting heavily, but seeing the general doing everything himself, no one dared to complain. They all gritted their teeth and persevered, not dawdling at all.

While the fields on one side were being plowed in an orderly fashion, the threshing work on the other side of the threshing floor had already begun.

The bean stalks have been drying for three days and are completely dry.

Dozens of people, each holding a flail, took turns striking the straw, creating a continuous "slap slap" sound. Beans popped out of the straw and landed on the mat with a crackling sound.

After one round of threshing, everyone turned the bean stalks over and threshed them again until all the seeds fell off, leaving not a single grain of waste.

Wheat is crushed with a stone mill. An old farmer leads an ox and pulls the stone mill over the wheat straw, grinding the wheat grains off in a flurry.

After threshing once, everyone picked aside the straw and swept the wheat grains into a pile, a golden expanse that made people feel particularly at ease.

Xiao Yu, along with several accountants, stood guard by the threshing ground, keeping a close eye on the threshing progress while meticulously keeping accounts. They recorded exactly how much grain was harvested from each plot of land and which team contributed the most labor, leaving no detail unaccounted for.

On the evening of the fourth day, the last heavy bag of grain was carried into the granary by several young soldiers. It landed next to the neatly stacked sacks with a dull but reassuring sound.

The sounds of flail and stone mill on the threshing floor gradually subsided. People who had been working for several days straightened up, looked in the direction of the granary, and their faces showed less fatigue and more undisguised smiles.

Several laborers wiped the sweat from their faces and huddled together, their voices full of relief: "We've finally finished harvesting. This is the first crop of grain we've grown on the Shuofeng Plain." "It's really tiring, but seeing this grain makes us feel at ease."

The young soldiers rubbed each other's aching backs, their faces beaming with youthful excitement. One of them patted the wooden pillar of the granary and joked with a smile, "From now on, Wangbeibao can produce its own grain and won't always have to rely on supplies from the rear."

Even the usually composed jackal auxiliary soldiers were gesturing around the grain sacks, their eyes shining with genuine joy as they whispered among themselves in their barbarian language.

Manager Wu, holding the ledger with a smile on his face, reported loudly to Xiao Yunlan: "Beans, 218 shi. Spring wheat, 179 shi. Miscellaneous grains: soybeans, mung beans, and buckwheat, totaling 270 jin."

Xiao Yunlan stood at the entrance of the granary, gazing at the neatly stacked sacks inside. The air was filled with the unique fragrance of new grain, mixed with the smell of sweat from the people, which was surprisingly touching.

His gaze swept over the people around him. Although they looked tired and their clothes were covered in dust, their eyes reflected the image of the grain sacks. Their joy was not as flamboyant as a celebration, but hidden in every eyebrow and every whisper.

It is the solace after hard work, the expectation for this land, and the confidence for Wangbeibao to take root in Shuofengyuan.

Four hundred bushels of grain—the amount is not astonishing, far from a bountiful harvest, yet every word carries immense weight.

This is the first batch of grain produced in Wangbeibao. It was not transported from the rear, nor was it allocated by the imperial court. It was the result of the tireless work of more than 500 people day and night. It is a real harvest that grew on this once barren land, and it is the hope that everyone supported together.

He stood inside the warehouse for a long time, quietly feeling the sense of security, before slowly walking out.

Manager Wu followed closely behind, a smile still lingering on his face, and reported in a low voice: "General, the tilling is still ongoing. Old Liu said that in two more days, all 600 mu will be tilled, and then we can sow the seeds. We can finish planting the winter wheat by mid-August."

Xiao Yunlan smiled slightly and nodded, the fatigue of the past few days was lightened by a sense of relief, and turned to walk towards the General's Mansion.

Back in the study, Xiao Duo brought him hot water to wash up and refresh him, his tone revealing a hint of joy.

Xiao Yu followed closely behind, holding a thin book in his hands, his eyes full of lightness: "Grand Uncle, this is the summer harvest work account. The number of people and working hours of each team have been recorded clearly, without the slightest error."

Xiao Yunlan took the ledger and glanced at it, his fingertips brushing over the numbers on the ledger. His tone was gentle yet firm: "Keep it safe. We'll calculate everything after the autumn harvest. Those who deserve rewards should be rewarded. We can't let those who contributed be treated unfairly; they deserve it."

Xiao Yu responded and was about to leave when Xiao Yunlan suddenly spoke up: "Wait."

He paused, a hint of expectation flashing in his eyes, and slowly said, "Go back and draft a plan. Once the autumn harvest is in the granary, hold a small celebration in the fortress and invite friendly tribes from the surrounding area."

The centaurs, the grey-horned deer, the digging tribes, and the chieftains who frequently came to trade all sent invitations.

Xiao Yu's eyes lit up: "Grand-uncle wants to..."

"Although the summer harvest was small, it was the first year that we produced our own grain." Xiao Yunlan's voice was calm, but it contained a hint of confidence and joy. "We should celebrate and let the surrounding tribes see that Wangbeibao can stand firm in this Shuofeng Plain, grow grain, and survive."

Xiao Yu's eyes shone even brighter, and he quickly agreed, "I've got it in mind, I'll go and draft the regulations right away, and I certainly won't let my great-uncle down!"

Xiao Yunlan waved his hand, signaling him to step back.

Outside the window, the sun had already set, and the afterglow bathed the fortress walls in a warm glow.

Lights still shone on the threshing floor in the distance, and people were guarding the newly stored grain. Occasionally, a few shouts were heard, which were light and cheerful. Soon, they disappeared into the night, leaving only the peaceful atmosphere of the village, which lingered and held the sense of security and joy after the summer harvest.