Chapter 421: What to Do When the Work Runs Out?
Receiving the order, the laborers quickly resumed chiseling holes in the stockade walls, a joyful buzz of activity filling the air.
As the stockade neared completion, an unsettling apprehension began to stir among the common folk who had sought refuge from Pujiu Temple.
Once the construction of the stockade was complete, would they simply run out of work?
What if the salt smuggler boss simply declared, "Alright, you can all go home now"?
How would they survive then?
A palpable sense of anxiety began to permeate the district where the common folk were settled. Large groups gathered around Zhan Seng, their voices hushed, as they confided their deep-seated fears.
Zhan Seng nodded. "Understood," he said. "This monk will go inquire with Chief Xing."
He departed the commoners' district and headed towards the infantry camp.
As he traversed the gate separating the two zones, a squad of guards barred his path. "Token!" they demanded.
The soldiers exchanged a slightly awkward glance. "Indeed," one admitted.
Zhan Seng stated, "This monk has an important matter to discuss with Chief Xing."
Knowing the monk was the commoners' representative, the soldiers helped relay his request. Moments later, a guard returned with the reply: "Master Zhan Seng, you may proceed."
Zhan Seng nodded, thinking to himself: *They claim to be salt smugglers, yet their conduct is remarkably organized, their discipline superior to any government troops. If this group truly consists of mere salt smugglers, then this monk would gladly gouge out his own eyes and feed them to the dogs.*
Led by a soldier, he reached the infantry camp's "deliberation hall"—a grand name for what was essentially a large wooden hut, hastily erected. Inside, Xing Honglang, the nominal leader of this force, was deep in discussion with her subordinates.
In truth, however, the real authority in this army lay with Gao Chuwu. Though he merely nodded and uttered "Sounds good, let's do it," if he didn't approve, no one dared to act rashly.
As Zhan Seng arrived at the entrance, he saw Xing Honglang intently carving a piece of wood into a token. On it, she had etched the characters "Chuwu," and she gazed at it from all angles with clear adoration, even pressing the token lovingly against her cheek...
Zhan Seng cleared his throat. "Ahem! Chief Xing."
"Ah!" Xing Honglang yelped, leaping to her feet. "Just now... well... I simply liked the texture of the wood, so I couldn't help but rub it. I certainly wasn't fondling those two specific characters!"
Zhan Seng uttered a quiet "Amitābha Buddha! Blessings, blessings! This monk saw absolutely nothing."
Xing Honglang relaxed. "That's more like it. Now, why have you come to see me? What important matter brings you here?"
Zhan Seng relayed the commoners' worries, his voice hushed. "Everyone is deeply concerned there will be no more work, and no one to feed them. You know yourselves how things are outside: a great drought grips the land, chaos and war reign, and bandits roam freely. Natural disasters and human calamities have converged, making life incredibly hard for ordinary folk. They were used to hardship before, but after working here for a few days, with food provided and three *jin* of flour every day, these good times have barely begun and now they fear they're ending. Their hearts are very uneasy."
Xing Honglang smiled. "Oh, is that all? Tell everyone there's no need to fret; the work will never run out."
Zhan Seng looked puzzled. "Hm?"
Xing Honglang explained, "Now that the stockade is complete and our position is secure, we must, of course, strive for an even better life. The next step, the second phase, is to construct blacksmiths' forges, carpenters' workshops, mills... essentially, everything a thriving port town should possess. We'll build all that's needed and establish all the necessary enterprises."
Upon hearing this, Zhan Seng mused: *They intend to transform Gudu Ferry into an artisanal town? Such grand ambition! This is even less like the work of salt smugglers. If anything, it sounds more like the plans of a local government official.*
Xing Honglang continued, "Go back and tell the common folk to build this place as if it were their own home. All manner of houses, artisans' workshops, and shops can be constructed freely. And all workers' wages will remain at three *jin* of flour per day."
"But you can't just let them build wherever they please," Zhan Seng said, a wry smile on his face. "If two residents build their houses connected, they'll inevitably end up fighting over the land."
Xing Honglang paused, realizing he had a point. *Heavens, that's true. Town planning requires actual foresight. You can't just let the villagers build whatever they want, or it'll end up a jumbled mess of houses with no space to even walk between them...*
Damn it!
*As for planning and construction, I certainly don't know how. Zao Ying wouldn't either, and Gao Chuwu is out of the question. Lao Nanfeng probably struggles with it too, right? Everyone who came to Shanxi this time is a military commander; there isn't a single civil administrator among us.*
Xing Honglang felt a touch embarrassed. "Master Zhan Seng, once we embark on all these projects, I'll be quite swamped. It seems we'll need to recruit a scholar for assistance. Do you happen to know any learned individuals skilled in planning and managing town construction? Someone who's served as a magistrate's aide would be perfect."
Zhan Seng couldn't help but chuckle. "What scholar would ever be willing to work for salt smugglers?"
"You have a point," Xing Honglang conceded. "Never mind, I'll find a solution for that. For now, don't concern yourself with it. Just tell the common folk to remain calm; there will be plenty of work soon enough. And for these few days without work, I will still ensure they are fed. Oh, and have any merchants among the commoners come to see me."
Gudu Ferry was, by its very nature, a hub for tradesmen and merchants. Many small vendors operated there, most dealing in smuggled salt, but others hawking all manner of miscellaneous wares.
Xing Honglang handed the freshly carved token to Zhan Seng. "Give this to the merchants," she instructed. "With this in hand, they won't need to be announced when they come to the main camp for discussions."
Zhan Seng took the token, examined it, and subtly asked, "This token is Chief Xing's, isn't it?"
Xing Honglang responded, "Yes, it is. What about it?"
Zhan Seng inquired, "If it's your token, shouldn't it bear the character for 'wolf' from your name? Why is 'Chuwu' carved on it instead?"
Xing Honglang fell silent, caught off guard.
After a few seconds, her face flushed crimson. *Should I just kill this monk to ensure his silence?* she thought, but then a sudden realization struck her. *Gao Chuwu and I are already married! Why should I feel any embarrassment?* She swiftly regained her composure. "I am a traditional woman; when I marry, I follow my husband. Therefore, my husband is the true chief of this army. What's wrong with carving his name?"
Zhan Seng chuckled inwardly. *Keep up the act, hahaha.*
He pressed his palms together in a respectful gesture. "Amitābha Buddha! This monk will take his leave now."
Once Zhan Seng was out of earshot, Xing Honglang waved over the guards at the gate. From her pocket, she produced another identical token and whispered conspiratorially, "Look, on the back of the tokens I carve, in this precise spot, I intentionally make a small notch. If you peer closely into that notch, you'll also see two faint, crooked knife marks inside... Any token carved by me will have these specific markings."
The guards at the gate looked utterly bewildered. "Madam Xing," one asked, "why exactly do you do this?"
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