Great Tang Idyll - Volume 4 Chapter 215

Autumn arrived and the fruit grew fragrant. In Yizhou, harvesting kept everyone busy. The wealthy were invited from afar in hopes of visiting the snowfields; nearby, craftsmen were hired to fire vats for fermenting fruit.

Still muddle-headed from the previous night’s drinking, Zhang Zhong refused Qiang Hu’s attempt to keep him overnight. Before nightfall, he left the village with Qiang Hu’s son and daughter, preparing the next steps.

Early the next morning, once he sobered up, Qiang Hu remembered what he had said the night before. He immediately gathered all the adults and children in the village and headed into the mountains to pick the ripe fruit to help the Zhang family brew wine.

While Zhang Zhong discussed with the three old men how to send invitation letters to various dandies and wealthy young ladies to come here for leisure, he also sought craftsmen nearby to fire vats for fermenting fruit. 

Notices were also posted in the city, encouraging the townspeople to assist the kiln workers so they could learn the craft and later build their own.

With Qiang Hu leading, his entire village worked with eagerness. Such activity could not help attracting attention. While Qiang Hu was wondering how to persuade other villages to help pick fruit, the others came on their own.

The nearby villages, once they learned that wild fruit could be exchanged for money, and that the official who had treated them to food, drink, singing, and dancing was helping them earn wealth, joined with joyous enthusiasm.

Three days later, heaps of fruit were delivered to the prefectural city of Yizhou. 

The Zhang family members hastily finished setting up temporary living quarters. A large section of the adobe city wall had been torn down, and they had not yet found time to rebuild it. They would need to wait until fruit harvest and autumn harvest were finished before hiring locals to repair it.

Another day passed, and the people Zhang Zhong had sent out returned, bringing wagonloads of daily necessities. They began paying the locals for the fruit they had collected.

This was because the locals were accustomed to barter.

On the first day, when Zhang Zhong tried to pay for the fruit with money, Qiang Hu panicked. He did not know how to shop outside with money and feared others would intentionally charge him more. He told Zhang Zhong it would be better to trade the old way — goods for goods.

They all knew exactly how much their goods were worth and were unafraid of being cheated.

Zhang Zhong had been speechless. Using goods to trade for goods and you think you’re not being cheated?

When he heard that they had fixed people who always handled exchanges with outsiders, he understood even more clearly that they had been completely controlled. Seeing Qiang Hu look troubled, Zhang Zhong had no choice but to send people out to purchase items.

Thus, the largest and most well-stocked shop in Yizhou prefectural city came into being, specializing in exchanging goods with the locals. It purchased all kinds of furs and medicinal herbs at eighty percent of outside market prices; the remaining twenty percent covered transportation costs.

Once the nearby villages learned outside prices and discovered what their traded items actually sold for, they nearly marched out to kill the people who had exchanged with them all these years.

They had been cheated. Cheated terribly.

A single bearskin could sell for fifteen strings of cash — even twenty strings if it was good. With that much money, they could buy enough salt for a hundred-person village for two years, with some left for curing meat. But previously, they had only received one dou of salt for a bearskin and had thought it cheap, rationing it carefully so the village could eat for a month.

Zhang Zhong could not allow them to cause trouble. After much effort, he stopped them and promised that the shop in the city would continue providing daily necessities and would even handle delivery of their money to purchase specified goods.

Of course, this required the locals to gradually adapt to using money as currency.

Though they swallowed their anger over being cheated for years, the villagers became even more eager to pick fruit for Zhang Zhong. They acknowledged his status in their hearts — a truly good official, one who shared such important matters with them.

Several villagers who spoke the official language best were also beaten. They were the ones who had always accompanied the trading trips. In Yizhou prefectural city, they possessed large mansions and many fine fields. No one needed to be told how those had been obtained.

Once the income problem of the nearby villages was resolved, Zhang Zhong prepared to let people farther away know about these developments. But before he sent anyone out to persuade them, those distant villages learned about it by accident.

Gong Shi was the son of Gong Mu, clan chief of Little Bear Village. His father was old and preparing to pass the position to him, but this year’s harvest did not look good. Continuous rain had caused the crops to grow worse than half of last year’s yield.

The village had also recently suffered a fire, burning much of their hemp cloth and the furs meant for exchange. He did not know how they would survive the coming winter.

He needed to find a way. He planned to take a group from the village to search for work outside. If they could trade labor for grain and cloth before winter arrived, they could endure the cold instead of falling ill with every rainfall.

With this in mind, Gong Shi turned to look at the twenty strongest men from the village walking behind him. Then he looked at the sky — it was getting dark. He remembered that not far ahead was another village where they might stay the night, or they could hurry onward to reach the city.

“Hurry up, quickly. We don’t need to sleep outdoors tonight. Move!” He called twice, quickening his pace, head lowered, watching his footing as he walked.

The people from Little Bear Village understood the purpose of the journey. They had never done this before; facing the unknown made them anxious, excited, and expectant. If they succeeded, they would return as heroes.

So even after more than ten days of traveling, they ignored their fatigue and followed behind their future clan chief, hoping to reach the city, sleep well, and eat a full meal before finding work.

As evening approached, the sky grew dark, but those familiar with the weather knew there would be no rain tonight. By midnight, they might even see stars. They would not be soaked like in previous days.

Just as they sped up and jogged forward, countless points of light appeared ahead — firelight shaking across the mountainside, illuminating people moving around. They had no idea what was happening.

Curious, Gong Shi stopped. The men behind him also stopped, puzzling over what these people were doing outside at night instead of resting.

Unable to figure it out, Gong Shi moved forward slowly. When he drew closer, he finally breathed a sigh of relief — he recognized them. They were people from High Mountain Village who had not made it home in time and were staying the night here, with both adults and children climbing up and down the slope.

As he spotted them, they saw someone approaching as well. Because he and his group carried no torches, the others could not see who they were and quickly gathered together, shouting loudly toward them.

“Is Qiang Shan there? It’s me — Gong Shi of Little Bear Village!” Gong Shi did not want any misunderstanding or arrows flying toward him. He immediately shouted at the top of his lungs. His voice echoed through the mountains.

After shouting, he signaled the group behind him to stay put and stepped forward alone. 

When he entered the range of the firelight, the others finally relaxed. A man with a bow came out laughing and clapped Gong Shi on the shoulder.

“Gong Shi! Why did you come here? Tired, right? Come, have some fruit. Later we’ll drink some wine at my place — good wine! The wine that the new official named Zhang is going to sell. Yesterday, while picking fruit, we happened to hunt a deer. We gave half of it to the official, and the other half is waiting for you to try. And he brought new spices! It tastes different from before.”

Qiang Shan was extremely enthusiastic — so enthusiastic that Gong Shi almost failed to recognize him. Normally, if they hunted a deer, they would trade it outside. Whether deer skin or deer meat, it always traded for more than other goods. A live deer was even more precious.
But today they were eating it?

What puzzled Gong Shi even more was that some official had come, and they had given him half the deer. Was this official powerful enough to control their people?

Still doubtful, Gong Shi beckoned his group forward and asked Qiang Shan, “Who is this new official? Does he have many people with him?”

“A big official — the biggest. All of Yizhou must listen to him. Even that old Fang something-horse person from before had to obey him. He has nearly two thousand people. The city couldn’t fit them, so they tore down part of the city wall to build houses. They just finished building, enough to live in, but once winter comes they’ll have to rebuild.” Qiang Shan handed him a piece of fruit and continued talking.

Hearing this, Gong Shi’s expression grew worried. He looked at the fruit-pickers from High Mountain Village and said with sympathy: “He must have many family guards. You couldn’t fight them, so he forced you to give up many things. You ran out of food and had to come up here to pick wild fruit to eat? I wonder whether he’ll go to Little Bear Village to plunder too. If he comes, I’ll fight him.”

“Fight him!” The men from Little Bear Village shouted together, filled with hot-blooded resolve.

“Hahaha!” Qiang Shan burst into laughter, spraying the fruit pulp in his mouth. He doubled over holding his stomach, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. The people behind him also began to laugh.

Gong Shi felt his face burn. Before he could speak, a seven-year-old child from High Mountain Village pulled a small pouch from his chest, took out a piece of candy, and held it up to him.

“Uncle Gong, here — have some candy. The new official is called Zhang Zhong. His youngest child is called Xiao Bei. Xiao Bei is fun, and he has lots of candy. This is called malt candy. When you put it in your mouth, it tastes like sweet wheat. Zhang Zhong is a good official. The deer skin we hunted — we gave it to him to use as a mat. I helped bring it to him! He even let me eat a meal called hot pot. The shrimp were this big!” The child stretched his hands wide as he spoke, eyes sparkling with excitement.

Gong Shi’s doubts deepened. He looked at the candy the child offered. He wanted to refuse, yet he also wanted to understand. So he accepted it, pinched it, peeled off the outer layer, and found a translucent candy wrapped in edible rice paper.

He knew this thin paper was only used for something truly good.

Unable to resist curiosity — and the child’s eager gaze — he put the candy into his mouth.

A sweet, honey-like flavor spread instantly over his tongue.

“Uncle Gong, is it good? I have more!” The child waited eagerly for him to share the joy of sweets.

A wave of childhood memories washed over Gong Shi — the few times he had tasted sugar. It was overwhelming. This candy was far better than anything from back then. He wanted to take it out and put it back into the child’s mouth, but held back.

“Is this candy expensive?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Xiao Bei’s sworn brother, Xiao Man, said they made it themselves. You can’t buy it or trade for it. I only know that Xiao Bei’s house looks very nice. It even has shiny lights. I can’t crawl inside though. It has three floors! And the carpet inside is really smooth!”

The child only knew what was fun — that the candy was delicious and the house beautiful. The courtyard built for the seven children had polished stone floors that reflected people’s shadows.

Seeing he could not get a clear answer from the child, Gong Shi turned to Qiang Shan.

Qiang Shan had lived comfortably these days. The fruit they traded earned many necessities and even beautiful porcelain bowls. He was in a great mood. 

Seeing Gong Shi look at him, he chuckled twice and explained everything: Zhang Zhong’s arrival with his people, the feasting and singing outside the city, the fruit-collecting and winemaking, the new shop in town, and how they had been cheated for years by traders.

The more Gong Shi and his group listened, the more shocked they became. The more they heard, the more unbelievable it sounded.

What kind of official was this?

That old Fang fellow had never invited them to drink, sing, or dance. He certainly had never traded precious goods for the wild fruit nobody wanted.

Every winter, the Fang official went from village to village, demanding rent and tribute. If not for pitying his miserable appearance and poor land, they would have refused him outright.

But this new official? He had not even mentioned rent or tribute. Instead, he collected fruit, brought outside goods to set up a shop, and helped everyone earn money.

What was he planning?

“Gong Shi, if fruit can be traded for things, then we don’t need to go outside looking for work anymore. Outsiders bully us. The villagers can just pick fruit and bring it here.” A man from Little Bear Village was rather sharp and immediately grasped the key point. He moved closer to Gong Shi and offered a suggestion.

Gong Shi wasn’t foolish, so of course he had also thought of it, but he had other concerns in mind. 

He asked instead, “Then can the items we offer as local tribute also be exchanged?”

“They can. This year High Mountain Village is planning to offer more tribute, and whatever remains will be left for Official Zhang to use for himself. Qiang Hu’s village said the same. Even if the other villages don’t hand anything in, they will cover everything,” Qiang Shan said generously.

“So that means this Official Zhang is the same as that former Official Fang—he also needs us, and he’s afraid the court will make trouble for him if we don’t hand in tribute. He’s just giving the benefits first,” Gong Shi analyzed.

“You blockhead, do you really think Official Zhang is like that Official Fang? Official Zhang isn’t afraid at all of not gathering enough tribute. Yesterday when I brought people down to deliver fruit, he was standing right in front of the shop watching. Someone from the court came on fast horseback with an imperial decree—an imperial decree, something written by His Majesty himself. Guess what? If it were any other official, wouldn’t he have set up an incense table and made his whole family kneel? But Official Zhang didn’t care at all. He caught it with one hand, opened it, glanced at it, and tossed it straight to a servant behind him. The man delivering the decree even wore a smiling face—it looked like he didn’t dare mention anything about disrespecting the throne. How could someone like that fear not being able to hand in local tribute? And there’s more. After we delivered the fruit, I sent someone to investigate. Guess what they found? This time he wasn’t the only official who came—there were several officials of the Third and Fourth Ranks. Later we heard the decree was for conferring titles on his elders. They’re all Second Rank. Even his mother received a Second Rank titled-lady honor. And get this—even that little boy called Xiaobao, who we’ve never seen, actually holds an official position of the Sixth Rank. The people I sent overheard the three old seniors saying His Majesty thought the journey was too far and didn’t give the conferment gift money or even the official robes—only sent over a few gold-fish pouches and said their household could prepare the rest themselves.”

Qiang Shan relayed all this secret gossip with a deliberately mysterious tone, and the whole group listened with the same air of mystery.

Someone from Little Bear Village then said, “Does that mean His Majesty is treating them poorly? He didn’t even give the reward?”

“I think you’re a blockhead,” Qiang Shan glanced at him before continuing, “This shows His Majesty treats their household without formality. If he didn’t treat them well, why would he confer titles? If he didn’t treat them well, would Official Zhang dare treat an imperial decree like a rag? I saw clearly how casually he tossed it. Listen to me: This year you don’t have to hand in the grain rent. If you do, it’s only for Official Zhang’s stipend, and he probably won’t like the food anyway and doesn’t care about such a small amount. But tribute—tribute must be plenty. You must never use tribute to threaten him. Otherwise, you won’t even need to make him angry. The villages around here would object first.”

“That’s true. We will hand it in. Grain may be little, but we have plenty of tribute items. Keeping them is useless—we might as well give them to him. And if it’s like you say, he truly doesn’t care whether local tribute reaches the capital or not. Didn’t His Majesty also skip giving him the conferment gifts? Those balance each other out. But if we don’t give them to him, and he feels we’re not treating him as a brother, then if he speaks a word to His Majesty and asks to be transferred, who will collect our fruit then?” Gong Shi finally understood. Whether Qiang Shan exaggerated or not, he would see it clearly once he went down the mountain.

At the thought of going down, Gong Shi felt a spark of excitement and said to Qiang Shan, “How about this—let me take some of the fruit you’ve already picked. Each man will carry one basket down to see if we can exchange it. Ah, but we have to wait until tomorrow. Let’s pick fruit together first today and go down tomorrow.”

“No need. There are people working even at night. Around midnight I can send one batch down, and before dawn another batch. Each of you can carry one basket and go take a look. The shop is open twelve hours a day without closing. And there’s a place called the hospital—it also stays open twelve hours without closing. When you get down there, go to the hospital first. Let the doctors check your pulse. If you’re sick, they’ll boil medicine for you immediately. The medicine doesn’t cost money. They said it’s covered by the two-tenth profit on the fur and herb exchanges.”

Qiang Shan explained the situation in the city while directing people from the village to load big baskets of fruit onto the backs of Gong Shi’s group.

Gong Shi then led his people onward, full of hope for a better life, thanked Qiang Shan, and headed down the mountain.

They walked quite a long way. Though they were already tired earlier, they now felt strength returning to their limbs. 

One after another, they hurried for more than half an hour until they finally reached the bottom of the mountain. In the distance stood the prefectural city, and music and singing drifted from the brightly lit open ground outside the city walls.

A gust of wind carried over the scent of meat and wine. After walking so long, they couldn’t help but sniff greedily.

The whole group sped up, wanting to see what was happening below.

As they drew nearer, Gong Shi and the others could finally hear clearly. Someone was singing a kind of toasting song they had never heard before, but somehow it still sounded like it belonged to their own people. They didn’t even know what instruments were being used, but the accompaniment was perfect, making one feel an uncontrollable urge to jump in and dance.

When they got close enough to see faces by the firelight, Gong Shi recognized someone. The man was squatting next to the musicians, watching closely as if learning.

He also felt someone staring at him, turned his head, and immediately stood up in surprise and came over.

“Gong Shi, you heard the news and ran here too? Good! After rushing all day, have a drink first. This wine is good—one cup and you’ll feel dizzy. Then eat two grilled fish. After that, I’ll find you a place to rest.”

“Qiang Hu, why aren’t you in your village? What are you doing down here at night?” Gong Shi put down his basket of wild fruit and rolled his shoulders, looking around curiously.

“Just for today. I came to see my two kids. After they’ve had supper and fallen asleep, I come out to join the fun.” Qiang Hu waved vigorously at someone delivering wine.

Gong Shi still couldn’t understand why Qiang Hu’s kids needed to be down in the city, so he let his eyes sweep across the dancers and onlookers before asking, “Wasn’t there supposed to be an official named Zhang here? Where is he?”

“He didn’t come out tonight. Do you want him to accompany us every day? He’s an official—he has duties. From now on, this will be the place to have fun. Unless it rains, every night outside the city will be like this—sing if you want, dance if you want. But they say after New Year everyone will have to bring their own wine and food.”

Qiang Hu accepted a bowl of wine from the server and handed it to Gong Shi, sharing his feelings about the atmosphere here.

Gong Shi liked drinking but usually couldn’t bear to waste grain on wine—now he could drink without trading anything for it. Overjoyed, he grabbed the bowl and downed it in one gulp, then burst into coughing fits, face flushed red. But he held himself together and still praised it as good wine.