Chapter Two: Abundance Year After Year

The low house of blue stone bricks was exceedingly simple. To keep out the wind, no windows had been left when it was built. The space behind the wooden door was small, containing only a large redwood bed covered with thick quilts, a few short stools, two large vats, and a cooking stove. The short stools were cluttered with sundry items, clearly used more as tables than seats by the youth who lived there.

The redwood bed was a luxury only the wealthy could afford, starkly out of place among the rough stools. There was a reason for this: the redwood bed was salvaged by Zhong Ming from the home of a rich family, while the stools were made casually by the village carpenter—naturally, they did not match.

After the war, many had died, leaving much property unclaimed. Both the redwood bed and the blue stone bricks and tiles had been scavenged by Zhong Ming. These were fine things, but not just anyone was qualified to take them.

Zhong Ming could use them thanks to his status as “Master Zhong.” As for how he managed to bring these things back, that depended on the young man next door.

Yu Ni Village was small, with just over eighty households. In the ruined towns of broken walls, more than a hundred homes had been picked clean, not even a tile left behind, but only Zhong Ming and the youth next door dared use blue stone bricks and tiles.

Zhong Ming’s privilege came from the reputation of Master Zhong, a name respected by every soul in Yu Ni Village.

Among the eighty households and more than two hundred people, only Zhong Ming was literate enough to write auspicious couplets for the New Year. His calligraphy was excellent; even the wealthy from the city would bring wine and meat as gifts to obtain a pair of couplets from him during the holidays.

Three months ago was the first New Year since the founding of the New Tang dynasty—a grand festival, celebrated by all, rich and poor alike, eager to hang new couplets for good fortune.

It was during that festival that the previously unknown Zhong Ming made his name, becoming famous in the city and its surroundings as Master Zhong.

But literacy was not only about writing couplets—Zhong Ming also served as the village’s record keeper.

For decades before, war had raged, making military men far more respected than scholars. Angry scholars decried: "A scholar is useless in a hundred ways."

But after the war, things changed. The New Tang dynasty was founded; the country needed rebuilding, and the importance of scholars in governing gradually became clear.

Warriors win the land; scholars rule the realm. This is a truth as old as time.

To stabilize the nation, Emperor Li Yuan of Tang Zhen issued a proclamation before the year’s end: The court would employ talented men; those of real ability and learning could be appointed regardless of background.

This decree had profound effects—from the imperial court employing new ministers, to counties and local governments seeking learned men.

Even the remote border town where Zhong Ming lived followed suit, posting notices to hire scholars. Anyone with a drop of learning scrambled for a chance.

Zhong Ming himself had no interest in these empty honors. He did not wish to be an official—too exhausting. He wanted no part, not even as a lowly, nameless village officer.

There were many ways to live at ease. Having lived two lives, Zhong Ming’s experience surpassed these simple-minded folk whose thoughts were only of eating, drinking, and farming. He wanted to prosper and live well—after the war, there were plenty of opportunities to profit from the dead.

At home, Zhong Ming kept a small fortune in real gold and silver, hidden in a little wooden box. He simply hadn’t yet thought of a way to launder it, and so dared not reveal it openly.

But a man’s name precedes him, and once Master Zhong’s fame spread, there was no escaping the post of village record keeper.

That’s life—there are always reasons that force us to do what we would rather not. Zhong Ming could not escape such fate. All he could do was adapt to circumstances and live well in the moment.

After entering the house, the youth first closed the wooden door, then approached the redwood bed, lifted the thick bedding, and retrieved a small locked wooden box from a hidden compartment. He drew a bronze key from around his neck and opened the box.

Inside were ten gold ingots, some loose silver, and Zhong Ming’s treasured calligraphy books. He placed the calligraphy book inside, took out two pieces of broken silver, weighed them in his hand, tucked them into his chest, locked the box, and put it back in its place.

This small box was the foundation of Zhong Ming’s survival, the capital for his future ventures—a matter of utmost importance to him.

There were two things Zhong Ming never parted from: a redwood folding knife, and the bronze key around his neck.

If not for yesterday’s notification from the city wall that a census and land allocation meeting would be held today, Zhong Ming would never have taken two pieces of silver with him—those two nuggets, each the size of a finger joint, could buy a year’s grain for a common family.

Though rarely venturing into the city, Zhong Ming knew that the city contained troublesome constables. Carrying a bit of silver for protection was always wise.

When Zhong Ming opened the wooden door and returned to the courtyard, the cock with the scarlet comb and colorful plumes was still clucking and pecking at the ground.

The youth found it irritating. The creature was just like its master—arrogant, always running into other people’s yards to steal food. Impatiently, the youth waved his hand and shooed the rooster away. “Go on, go! We don’t even have enough grain for ourselves—what makes you think there’s something for you? Go find some bugs, you lazy thing!”

“Ming, are you scolding my Iron General again? What did he ever do to you?”

Suddenly a voice called out; a head popped up over the blue brick wall—a dark-skinned youth with long hair tied in a ponytail and a mischievous grin.

The speaker was Liang Yu—“Yu” as in “surplus grain”—a name given by Zhong Ming. Liang Yu’s real name was Liang Ergou, a refugee who had fled to Yu Ni Village with the tide of displaced people. His parents had died on the road, leaving only this tough young man alive.

Zhong Ming and Liang Yu met five years ago, when Zhong Ming was not yet the person he was now, and still had a living mother. Life was hard but bearable. Out of kindness, Zhong Ming gave the destitute Liang Yu half a cake of bran, thus forging a bond of goodwill.

Children who crawled out of the refugee heaps had witnessed too much darkness in human nature; their tempers were bad, their hearts ruthless and cruel. Liang Yu, when hungry, would steal over walls, and had even killed for food. Yet this hardened youth was utterly loyal to Zhong Ming, willing to put his life on the line for him. All because of the half cake of bran from five years ago. Liang Yu often said, “Without that half cake, I would have starved to death.”

When Zhong Ming first arrived in this era, he trusted no one—not even this fellow who secretly gave him licorice roots to chew.

Until one day, a starving group, eyes wild with hunger, targeted the frail Zhong Ming, planning to throw him into the pot. At that time, Zhong Ming had just arrived, weakened by a severe illness, barely able to raise an arm. Even with a folding knife, he could not have fought off five crazed refugees.

Weak, Zhong Ming struggled desperately, but the hands gripping his wrists and ankles were like shackles. The ravenous refugees, breathing heavily, eyes bloodshot, even licked his cheek with their wet tongues.

It was Liang Yu who burst out of the darkness, biting through the leader’s throat with his teeth. Raging like a mad dog, he roared and bit, finally driving the group away.

Five years ago, Zhong Ming had given Liang Yu half a cake of bran. Two years later, Liang Yu repaid Zhong Ming with a life.

How did two children, thin as skeletons, survive the war? It was a tale both of human depravity and the tenacity of life.

From that day, Zhong Ming had his first friend in this world—and so far, his only one.

Liang Ergou received a new name—Liang Yu. The day Zhong Ming named him, he said, “I hope from now on, we’ll have surplus grain every day.”

But Zhong Ming preferred to call him “Liang Blackie,” for Liang Yu was so dark-skinned that even with a lamp at night, he was hard to find.

The reason this dark-skinned Liang Yu could have a blue brick house was, first, because Zhong Ming had taught him to be ruthless, and second, because he truly had backbone, earning his place in Yu Ni Village by sheer grit.

After the founding of the New Tang, life for the refugees began to stabilize, but not everyone had land to farm. Those without land still went hungry, and landlords would not hire many hands in years of disaster.

Thus, the village lanes filled with ruffians and bullies, living off the protection fees they extorted from ordinary folk.

Yu Ni Village was no exception. Even today, ruffians were a necessary part of village life—each settlement needed its own toughs to avoid being bullied by others.

A village founded by displaced thugs—how could there be any easy marks? All had chewed on human bones to survive the war. For Liang Yu to become the leader of the ruffians among such men showed the severity of his methods.

It was rare to see Liang Yu up so early. Zhong Ming joked, “What good fortune gets Blackie up so early? Is it collection day again?”

“Collection? Someone’s just looking for trouble! Last night, Scarface Zhang from beyond the broken wall sent word—he wants to collect protection fees from Yu Ni Village. Like hell I’ll let him! If Scarface Zhang gets our village’s fees, I’ll quit being a tough guy and give him my head to use as a stool.”

As he spoke, Liang Yu vaulted over the low wall with ease. Even standing, the wall only reached Zhong Ming’s neck. For Liang Yu, a seasoned climber, scaling it was nothing.

Zhong Ming glanced at his waist and saw the leather-sheathed short knife. Usually, Liang Yu treasured this blade, hiding it at home and never taking it out unless he expected trouble with other toughs, both for protection and to show strength.

Zhong Ming frowned, unhappy. “Blackie, our lives are good now. We have silver, we have grain. There’s no need to risk your life over these petty matters.”

Liang Yu dug at his ear, dismissive. “Scarface Zhang and his bunch? I could skin them all myself! Back when you and I were scavenging among the dead, those cowards were still cowering in the city, arms crossed and trembling. Not worth worrying about!”

Seeing that Liang Yu would not listen, Zhong Ming could only sigh and shake his head.

Then he thought of Scarface Zhang’s men—truly a ragtag bunch—and decided not to press further.

Even if Liang Yu would not listen, Zhong Ming himself could not agree to let them collect Yu Ni Village’s protection fees.

Others might not know, but Zhong Ming was well aware. The messenger yesterday had said that a newly appointed Officer of Fruitful Achievement had arrived in the city, ordered to garrison this border town with troops. That was why today’s land allocation was being discussed.

Before, the city was ruled by a single official, a seventh-rank county magistrate who wielded all the power. Now, with a military officer of equal rank holding command, the court was clearly trying to keep the magistrate in check.

To ingratiate himself with the new officer, the magistrate had hastily summoned the village record keepers to discuss land allocation, to show his integrity and governance.

Not every village was eligible for land, but fortunately, Yu Ni Village was on the list. Once the land was distributed, every household would have fields to farm, and the village’s protection fees would increase five- or sixfold. No wonder Scarface Zhang was envious.

With this in mind, Zhong Ming was all for Liang Yu teaching those greedy bullies a lesson.