After Transmigrating into a Frail County Magistrate, I Became an Overlord - Chapter 4

Yun Zhensong’s childhood was quite monotonous; visiting the city library to read books was his only hobby. Even during the busiest times of his senior year of high school, Yun Zhensong would read diligently and jot down a comment or two.

Among them, he had read quite a few history books, mostly focusing intently on the Ming and Qing dynasties.

Yun Zhensong set down his brush and just as he raised a hand to pound his sore lower back, Yusheng, who had been quietly accompanying him the whole time, crawled over on his knees and began to knead his back and waist with appropriate pressure.

“So obedient.” Yun Zhensong was extremely fond of Yusheng.

He flipped through the work he had been writing, and Yusheng was very curious about what exactly his master had been working on for the past three days: “What is this?”

Yun Zhensong smiled and explained it to him.

Drawing lessons from the failure of the Hundred Days’ Reform during the Qing Dynasty, Yun Zhensong decided to proceed little by little. He decided to utilize Daxuan’s “tuntian” (state-farm) system, transforming the original recruitment system into a “weisuo” (garrison) system though it was a modified version: local county soldiers would be deployed during wartime and perform agricultural labor during peacetime. Although this reduced the specialization of the army, it could rapidly develop Yuanqing County’s agriculture.

When it came to agriculture, Yun Zhensong discovered that because Yuanqing County was situated at the confluence of three rivers, much of the soil was saline-alkali land, where not a blade of grass grew. With the technology of this era, these areas were undoubtedly considered wastelands, impossible to cultivate. Yun Zhensong had inspected them; the soil there was coarse and granular, carrying a salty, bitter taste. The salt content was too high; it was imperative to dig ditches to divert water and drain the salt, and then plant the seeds of salt-tolerant crops provided by the system seepweed, oleaster, and soybeans. These could both absorb the salt from the soil and increase its fertility.

By next year, this 100-mu wasteland could be planted with grain. After paying taxes, the county would have a significant surplus.

The villagers and county soldiers listened quietly to the Magistrate’s explanation, but they remained confused, glancing at one another in hesitation, and none moved to start work.

“Will it work?”

“What kind of seeds are these? Why haven’t we heard of them before?”

They knew that the Magistrate had a kind heart and that “the law does not punish the masses.” As long as none of them went down to the fields to work, the Magistrate wouldn’t be able to do anything to them.

Moreover, up until now, the Magistrate had not shown a shred of annoyance, nor had he uttered a single harsh word.

Yun Zhensong rubbed his forehead in frustration. Under the blazing sun, just standing there wasting time wasn’t an option. Furthermore, Yun Zhensong’s health had never fully recovered; occasionally, when he covered his mouth to cough lightly, his frail figure swayed as unsteadily as a candle in the wind.

Qi Jianshuang had received news a few days prior: the Profound Iron Camp, as he had expected, had not sent a military officer, but only a eunuch to supervise. The eunuch was afraid of the rough men in the army, and the iron-blooded soldiers looked down upon the eunuch; the two sides were mutually incompatible.

Meanwhile, Cheng Sui and a group of trusted aides were on their way, bringing three thousand refugees.

Qi Jianshuang leaned against the rough trunk of an old tree on the hillside, a blade of wild grass hanging carelessly from his mouth, his eyes dark and inscrutable as he watched Yun Zhensong’s frail and helpless posture.

Zhou Si was busy urging them to pick up their shovels and dig the ditches. The other officials from the county whispered to one another in doubt. A cup of tea’s worth of time passed, yet not a single soul moved.

Qi Jianshuang shifted his gaze to the salt-crusted land before him, which looked like a layer of unmelted, thin snow.

Everyone was content with the status quo, lacking the drive to improve. No wonder Yuanqing County was so poor.

Yun Zhensong wore his official robes, and when he lifted his feet, the white-washed undergarments beneath were visible. He sighed. Forcing himself to endure his bodily discomfort, he walked with a somewhat unsteady gait, yet he deliberately straightened his back. Without another word, to the astonishment of everyone watching, he picked up a shovel, jumped into the field, and used all his strength to dig a deep trench.

Zhou Si’s eyes darkened; he no longer wasted his breath. He tucked the drawings his master had made into his robes, entered the wasteland alongside Yusheng, and said with concern: “Master, your health…”

“I’m fine.” Yun Zhensong’s voice was soft, yet possessed an indisputable firmness. Sweat beads coursed down his fair cheeks, gathered at his chin, and evaporated the moment they fell onto the earth.

The villagers were moved by the sight and whispered among themselves: “The Magistrate is actually…”

“Let’s get to work, let’s get to work. The Magistrate has gone down to the fields himself; we have no reason to keep watching.”

“That’s true, but… the Magistrate doesn’t know anything about farm work!”

“Shut up, keep your voice down.”

The man immediately clamped his mouth shut and ducked his head. The crowd loosely grasped their farm tools, thinking to themselves that the Magistrate had never done a day’s work in his life; in two days, when he realized this method wouldn’t work, he would give up on his own.

Many county soldiers remained standing on the hillside, unmoving.

Qi Jianshuang let out a “tsk” and began to walk over.

Yun Zhensong really was unskilled at farm work. He didn’t know how to exert his strength properly; after digging a few shovels, his lower back was already aching, and he sighed.

Suddenly, Yun Zhensong felt a lightness in his hands. A second later, he looked sideways and discovered that it was Hongke who had taken the shovel from him. He paused, feeling strange: “Why are you here? Are your injuries healed?”

“Mm.” Qi Jianshuang had great strength, and when he took on heavy labor, he was much faster than Yun Zhensong. His voice was low: “Your hands are only meant for holding a pen. Go back and rest.”

Before Yun Zhensong could speak, Qi Jianshuang roared at the county soldiers watching the fun on the hillside: “All of you, get your damn selves down here and get to work! Do you not know who you are just because you have the title of county soldier?! The Magistrate just doesn’t want to argue with you lot of idle loafers, but with this kind of behavior, one word from my master would have had your asses in jail long ago!”

The county soldiers were startled and terrified; knowing this man was a relative of the Magistrate, they didn’t dare talk back.

Yun Zhensong was also taken aback by his outburst. Fearing that he would anger himself into worsening his condition, he reached out to smooth Qi Jianshuang’s back to comfort him: “Calm down, don’t get angry.”

Qi Jianshuang’s back instantly stiffened. This was the first time he had seen such an easy-going official, and he glanced at him with a strange expression: “…”

Everyone finally buried their heads in their work.

Yun Zhensong sat in the shade, letting out a sigh of relief. Thinking of what Hongke had said earlier, he subconsciously raised his hand. His fingers were long, fair, and articulated, yet they possessed light calluses from years of holding a pen. Having swung the shovel just a few times, blisters were already beginning to form on his delicate fingertips.

Yun Zhensong picked up his gourd and took a sip of water, carefully considering what his next step should be.

Education in the county was backward; there was only one academy, and it only taught the “Way of the Sages.” They were already this poor he really needed to teach something practical. He wanted to find someone skilled in engineering. The County Assistant would be a good choice, but he was old and didn’t like to move around. He’d have to ask him when he had the time.

Public security also needed attention. He’d heard that the refugees from the north had been driven to ruin by some nineteen tribes of the Northern Frontier. Yuanqing County was too close to the Northern Frontier; military defense needed to be put on the agenda quickly, but there were no suitable candidates to drill the army. The county soldiers had long been lax in their training, developing lazy habits. The military power was still in his hands, but how on earth was he supposed to manage an army? It was killing him…

The most pressing issue right now was the group of refugees who had fled here. The grain in the county granary was stretched thin at most, it could last half a month. What was he to do?

[Hello, Host. 1224 is online. Preparing to issue Task 2.]

His contemplation was interrupted. The gourd in Yun Zhensong’s hand flew out of his grip, and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

Can you give me a heads-up the next time you pop up! You scared me to death…

[1224 acknowledges.]

…What is the task?

[Task 2: Prevent conflicts between the residents and the refugees. Time limit: three days.]

How was “conflict” defined? Yun Zhensong didn’t understand it clearly, but since the system played dead whenever it reached a critical moment, Yun Zhensong had no choice but to head back to the county office to handle official business, taking it one step at a time.

Once he got busy, Yun Zhensong forgot to eat his midday meal. When he looked up again, a patrol inspector rushed in, reporting with a panicked expression: “My Lord! The refugees have arrived outside the city gates.”

Yun Zhensong steadied his mind. He knew that the scene he was about to see was something he would never have dared to imagine in his lifetime, but when he truly pushed open the heavy city gates and stood before three thousand people, accepting three thousand gazes, the shock in his heart was beyond words.

The setting sun, like congealed blood, spilled over the eaves of the city tower. People were milling about; the ragged clothes of the three thousand refugees were dyed a dark red by the sunset.

Coincidentally, they happened to cross paths with the people who had just returned from working on the hillside. The county’s own commoners and soldiers, escorted by yamen runners, squeezed through the city gates first. There was constant agitation among the crowd; Yun Zhensong felt his heart racing uncontrollably.

The commoners in the county had gotten word that the city was filled with refugees fleeing here, and now they were all craning their necks to look outside the city. They were protected by the Magistrate; although they had to tighten their belts and weren’t wealthy, at least they didn’t have to worry about food or clothing.

Looking at the outsiders, their lament was mixed with a sense of relief and contempt.

Yun Zhensong wiped the sweat from his brow and said: “Everyone, please be patient. This official promises that I will let you all enter the city to settle down tonight. These people have just returned from farm work and are already very tired. Once they enter, I will distribute grain to everyone!”

Qi Jianshuang stood in the crowd, his eyes narrowing. At a time like this, he was still saying things that were ambiguous and thankless.

If one didn’t show official authority, how could one awe the hearts of the people?

Sure enough, the very next second, a brawny man carrying a hoe and baring his chest shouted with dissatisfaction: “Why give our grain to them?!”

The dissatisfaction of the first person was like a stone thrown into a sea that looked calm but was actually surging with waves, creating layers of ripples.

“Yeah, yeah!” Some echoed.

“Why should we give it to them for nothing!”

“We can’t even get enough to eat ourselves!”

Zhou Si tried his best to hold back the increasingly agitated commoners and the bewildered refugees.

Yun Zhensong knitted his brows.

The next second, a harsh, reprimanding shout suppressed all the unrest.

“Shut up!” Yun Zhensong’s tone carried agitation and anger; the deepened pitch of his voice actually had a deterrent effect. “In front of this official, who dares to act recklessly!”

His excessive kindness and gentleness would ultimately turn into a sharp blade pointed at him. Yun Zhensong had gradually come to realize this amid the skepticism of the past few days.

Qi Jianshuang raised an eyebrow in surprise and gave a signal to his trusted aides hiding among the refugees.

Cheng Sui gave a slight nod. According to the original plan, he quietly commanded the refugees to open up a path for them to pass through.

The Record Keeper, who had been standing beside the Magistrate, spoke at the right moment: “This county needs to register the population in the books before we can distribute porridge one by one. But Yuanqing County is also poor; we cannot afford to raise idlers.”

The implication was that they had to serve Yuanqing County and demonstrate their worth.

This was exactly what Yun Zhensong intended. It was better to speak the ugly truth upfront than to let people into the city in a muddled state and have them refuse to leave.

In this scene involving several thousand people, there was a sudden silence.

An old woman at the very front of the crowd suddenly collapsed due to hunger. The long silence finally ended, and the wailing of the infant in the woman’s arms tore through the dusk, like a rusty, dull knife slicing through the stagnant air.

“Magistrate, have mercy!” The woman threw herself down onto the stone floor, her forehead knocking until it bled, clawing at the boots of the line of soldiers protecting the front of Yun Zhensong. “Have pity on us!”

“Get up first, get up first.” Yun Zhensong wanted to reach out to help her up, but was blocked by his subordinates, who shielded him. They took it for granted that this was what the Magistrate needed and wanted; it was just that the Magistrate was too embarrassed to say it out loud, and they had to be “considerate” in understanding it.

The crowd suddenly exploded. The scarred-faced man suddenly tore open his clothes, exposing three claw marks on his chest: “I caught spies in Liaodong! I can serve the Magistrate!”

As he spoke, he spread his arms and lunged fiercely at Yun Zhensong.

Before the words had even faded, two yamen runners had already kicked him to the ground. As the iron ruler pressed against the back of his neck, it emitted a teeth-grating sound of bones.

Amidst the crisp sound of an ink stick falling and snapping on the bluestone, the baby’s crying suddenly stopped—the woman wailed in despair, stuffing her shriveled breast into the child’s mouth, but only bloodstains seeped out.

“Silence!” The city tower’s bronze gong was struck by the patrol inspector, shaking the roof tiles into falling dust.

An immense sense of powerlessness engulfed him; Yun Zhensong didn’t know what to do. He had never encountered such a scene.

“Thump.”

The sound was extremely faint in such a noisy environment, but Yun Zhensong heard it.

Yun Zhensong looked toward the sound.

A gaunt, skeletal body fell straight to the ground, withered like rotting wood; calling it a “walking corpse” while it was alive would be no exaggeration.

This person, whom he had never met, had died silently in a pile of people, dead right before Yun Zhensong’s eyes, yet no one showed even a hint of being moved; they weren’t even afraid—everyone was numb.

Yun Zhensong’s eyes widened instantly, and he stumbled back two steps in astonishment. His heart slammed violently against his ribs; it seemed as though he could hear his own rapid breathing.

Those were all living, breathing people.

In just a few short days, Yun Zhensong had seen no fewer than a dozen corpses.

This was truly… an era that ate people without spitting out the bones.

Yusheng observed Yun Zhensong’s abnormal expression. Before he could take any action, Qi Jianshuang had appeared at his master Yun Zhensong’s side.

Qi Jianshuang raised his hand, pressing his calloused, rough palm over Yun Zhensong’s eyes. He leaned into his ear, his tone soft yet powerful: “It’s all right. You are not allowed to be afraid; I am right behind you.”