Chapter Forty: Returning Home

No title or rank can be granted except for military merit—this was a rule set down by the founding emperor of Great Yan. Yet, the emperor, a conqueror on horseback, could never have imagined that over three centuries later, this very rule would become the lever by which the civil officials would manipulate the military establishment.

In the bureaucracy of Great Yan today, the most fashionable pursuit is for scholars to take up military affairs, retaining their scholarly prestige while securing noble titles—a perfect balance of honor and advantage. Meanwhile, in the ranks of the army, all military supplies and funding are tightly controlled by civil officials, sapping the strength of the generals from the very root. There are even jokes circulating in officialdom about third-rank generals saluting seventh-rank civil officials, a testament to the arrogance and overbearing nature of the civil bureaucracy.

What’s more, as the restrictions on ennoblement tighten year by year, noble titles in Great Yan have become ever more precious. Although Zhao Hengyi was but a baron—the lowest rank—he had truly stepped into the ranks of the nobility, and the benefits that came with it were innumerable.

Zhao Hengyi had received his title in Yonggu City, and with certain parties eager to keep him invisible, it was as if he’d been turned into thin air; his home county of Dangyang had no idea that a noble had arisen among them. Zhao Hengyi was only too pleased by this. While others might use such a nominal barony as an excuse to show off and seek favors, he preferred to amass his fortune quietly, hoping to go unnoticed until his power had fully matured.

Moreover, his official baronetcy of Cangwu County, conferred by the imperial court, was properly documented and in his possession, so whenever he needed to make use of his noble status, he would not be hindered by his own discretion.

The seventeen veteran soldiers who had traveled with him were to return home first, reunite with their families, and then bring their households to join Zhao Hengyi. Each one of them had been handpicked by Song Ying’an for their loyalty and capability, and Zhao Hengyi, after observing them on the journey, was willing to accept them.

After the events in Yonggu City, Zhao Hengyi felt an urgent sense of purpose and offered these veterans generous terms. Relocating with their whole families, they would receive a settlement allowance, proper brick houses to live in, a monthly salary of two hundred coins as guards, with pay increases for promotion, and even if they remained as guards, their wages would rise yearly.

In the vicinity of Dangyang County, such wages were considered high. Moreover, Zhao Hengyi’s close brotherly ties with the Marquis of Weiwuhou and the Lord of Dangyang were plain for all to see, so the veterans were eager to follow Master Zhao and seek a better future.

Without delay, Zhao Hengyi left Dangyang County with Wang Dahu, Wang Erhu, and Zhang Daniu, hurrying straight back to Elm Bay.

As they reached the village entrance, the four men were stunned by what they saw before them.

Billows of smoke rose from the brick and lime kilns in the village. Men who once idled now bustled about, women hurried to the weaving workshop, and even the elderly and children dug for earthworms to earn extra work points. Such vibrant activity, with everyone gainfully employed, was rare even in the county seat.

“Master’s back!”

“Hurry, tell Sister Xiaoyu—Master’s returned!”

“Master’s come back with Dahu, Erhu, and Zhang Daniu! Go announce it in the village!”

Dusty and travel-worn, the four were quickly surrounded by enthusiastic villagers, peppering them with questions and looking at them with envy. In these times, anyone who traveled afar was considered worldly in the village. Zhao Hengyi, as the master, needed no introduction, and Wang Dahu, the veteran who had served at the frontier, was well-known. But now Wang Erhu and Zhang Daniu had also become the objects of admiration among the young.

The crowd parted as Miao Xiaoyu, accompanied by many, hurried over. Now in charge of work points and wages, Miao Xiaoyu had, through two months of training, become the competent stewardess in the hearts of the villagers. Yet, seeing her husband return from his long journey, the ever-strong Miao Xiaoyu could not stop her eyes from reddening.

Suppressing the urge to throw herself into his arms, she carefully looked him over. After more than two months at the frontier, her husband had become darker, stronger, and, clad in fitted clothes, looked more spirited than ever.

The six little ones who followed had no such reservations. The little girls cheered and flew into Zhao Hengyi’s arms, laughing and crying at once, overjoyed.

After two months apart, it felt like a lifetime. Zhao Hengyi gazed at Miao Xiaoyu across from him, listening to the six little ones chirp about how their elder sister missed her brother-in-law, how she called for her husband in her dreams. The warmth of family enveloped him completely.

With her secret longings exposed by her sisters and teased by the womenfolk, Miao Xiaoyu’s cheeks burned red. Yet, her shyness could not hide her longing for her husband, and at last, amidst everyone’s laughter, she lowered her head and gripped his sleeve, and the whole family bustled home together.

With ample funds, all the tasks Zhao Hengyi had set before leaving had progressed smoothly. With Miao Xiaoyu at the helm and the old village chief and elders supporting her, the brick kiln, lime kiln, weaving workshop, and poultry farm were all running as they should.

Even the dilapidated thatched hut Zhao Hengyi once called home had been replaced by three spacious tiled rooms. The weaving workshop had been expanded to resemble a modern factory floor, with space reserved for further growth. However, since Zhao Hengyi had left in haste, there were too few of the new looms, and the village women had to work in three shifts.

The poultry farm, lacking Zhao Hengyi’s technical guidance, could not yet attempt artificial incubation, but the chicks bought from the county and nearby villages were thriving, and the advantage of feeding them earthworms was abundantly clear.

The brick and lime kilns, however, drew Zhao Hengyi’s attention. These kilns, which provided a livelihood for the village’s able-bodied men, were far too polluting. Zhao Hengyi quietly began to plan to build two larger kilns near Daqingshan in the coming days, and abandon those near the village.

No sooner had he washed away the dust of travel than the old village chief and elders arrived, needing to consult him on a host of matters, both large and small, that awaited his decision. Fortunately, the accounts were still managed by Miao Xiaoyu, else there would have been even more to discuss. Even so, it was not until night fell that the elders reluctantly took their leave.

The six little ones, eager to see their brother-in-law, remained at Zhao Hengyi’s side, chattering even through dinner, unwilling to part.

Only when the moon crept up to the treetops did Sun Xiuying, who had been living with the family to keep Miao Xiaoyu company, finally coax the six girls to sleep in the next room, leaving the couple alone.

“Xiuying’s quite capable,” Zhao Hengyi said, grasping for a topic in the suddenly intimate atmosphere.

“She really is,” replied Miao Xiaoyu. “Without her help at home and in the workshop, I couldn’t have managed.” After over two months of experience, Miao Xiaoyu had become more independent and daring. “But right now, I don’t want to talk about Xiuying. I just want to ask you, husband, did you miss me while you were with the army?”