They couldn't even be bothered to keep up appearances anymore…
Tang Wan and her younger brother returned home carrying empty clay bowls. After finding the land deed among their grandfather's old belongings and carefully memorizing the marked location, they took their city gate passes and went out again.
This time, they first rented a mule cart at the market and headed straight out of the city.
Although called a county, Huai Rong County was actually an important frontier town. The county seat was built against mountains and alongside rivers, with towering, solid city walls protecting the safety of its military and civilian inhabitants. Outside the city walls were scattered numerous garrison forts where soldiers stood guard, patrolled, and kept watch against possible invasions by the Northern Di.
Elm Tree Alley was relatively close to the western gate of Huai Rong County. The mule cart carried the siblings along the riverbank out of the alley. The road was busy with people and vehicles coming and going – it was spring plowing season, and many people carrying loads or driving carts were heading out of the city, making it a particularly busy time.
At the western gate, they encountered even more people and vehicles queuing to leave the city. The exit process was relatively relaxed – the guards merely glanced briefly at passes before waving people through.
The entry process, however, was much stricter. Not only were passes carefully inspected, but unfamiliar faces would have their belongings examined as well.
Watching this scene from a distance, Tang Wan felt an inexplicable sense of nostalgia.
Once outside the city gates, the view suddenly opened up considerably.
Looking out, the view was filled with vast expanses of plowed farmland. Neat furrows already showed faint traces of tender green, with orderly irrigation marks visible – evidence that planting had already been completed.
"All this land here is official military farmland. Your family's plot is further out," the mule cart driver casually explained.
The siblings had occasionally ventured outside the city before but never went far and had never visited their family's land, so they didn't know the way. They had to describe the location marked on their deed to the driver. Fortunately, having transported passengers for many years, the driver was quite familiar with the areas outside the city. Although he hadn't been to that particular spot, he had some general impression of it.
After leaving the city, the mule cart began to bump along more noticeably. Tang Wan gripped the cart's edge tightly while looking around and observing her surroundings.
She asked the driver, "What do they plant in these fields?"
Given that the siblings didn't look like they were accustomed to farm work, such questions weren't surprising.
The driver chuckled and said, "Mostly sorghum, spring millet, and spring wheat. The vacant plots will be planted with corn later."
Tang Wan nodded.
Sorghum was gaoliang, while spring millet was what southerners could plant in both spring and autumn seasons, though this wasn't feasible in the Northern Border where temperatures dropped quickly after autumn, making any planting impossible. Corn was what she knew as maize.
Tang Wan spent the journey asking the driver about farming matters, questioning this and that, listening carefully and making the road seem less long. Before they knew it, they had left the military farmland area. Beyond that were the private plots belonging to various Military Households, each marked by boundary stones with wooden signs displaying the surnames of the owning families.
The planting progress on private land was noticeably behind that of the military fields. Much of it was newly plowed wasteland, with freshly turned soil still moist. Some people were carrying manure buckets to fertilize the fields, others bent over planting seeds, while more still guided plows pulled by oxen, turning the soil row by row.
Tang Wan actually didn't have deep understanding of the era that had raised her, but it wasn't too late to learn now. She observed carefully and noticed that the oxen were pulling what appeared to be wooden plows, moving slowly and not turning the soil very deep.
She couldn't help but miss the conveniences of modern times once again.
When she had rented that small farmhouse before, she had also cleared a plot of land for growing vegetables. However, most of her effort had gone into planting—for the land reclamation, she had simply hired an excavator for convenience. In just an hour or two, the wasteland behind the yard was neatly leveled, though picking out stones took some extra time. Later, she bought a small tiller and, being a woman, managed to tidy up the entire plot beautifully in just a day or two by herself.
Now, everything had to be done by human labor alone. Just thinking about it gave her a headache.
However, after observing the local conditions, Tang Wan noted that although the farming methods here were rather primitive and time-consuming, the original soil quality was quite good. Vast stretches of military farmland on the Northern Border had been reclaimed from wilderness, where dense primeval forests once stood. The surface was covered with a thick layer of humus soil, and even after years of cultivation, the well-maintained earth remained dark with a grayish tint—loose and breathable to the touch. This type of soil should be excellent for growing anything, which offered some consolation.
After traveling a while longer, the uncle driving the cart began to lose his way. They had to ask for directions repeatedly as they headed toward the Tang family's plot.
The further they went, the more they noticed how sparsely populated the area was, with tenant farmers becoming increasingly scarce. Tang Wan spotted a few buildings not far ahead, among which one stood out—a structure roughly four or five stories tall.
"What's that?" Tang Wan asked the uncle driving the mule cart.
The uncle glanced in the direction she pointed and replied, "That's the watchtower of the garrison fort. If the Northern Di People invade, they'll light beacon fires to signal, and nearby garrison troops will rush to support."
Northern Di People invading?
For the first time, Tang Wan directly felt the reality of the situation—no wonder Grandfather had never allowed her and her brother to come to the fields. Their family's land was actually this close to the front lines.
She instinctively wondered if they should find a way to move away from here, to take Mu Ge'er and settle in a safer place.
But upon second thought, she knew this idea was unrealistic.
The Tang family belonged to a Military Household; without permission, they absolutely could not leave this area arbitrarily. Otherwise, they would be considered deserters, punishable by light penalties such as removal from the military register or severe consequences like conviction and execution. Even if she could manage to escape successfully, household registration in ancient times was strictly controlled, making it a major challenge to settle elsewhere.
Moreover, Tang Wan lowered her gaze as she looked at the surrounding land.
The benefits of being a Military Household were actually quite good. Thirty acres of fertile land weren't something just anyone could own in this era. Besides, Grandfather was a veteran military officer who had guarded the Northern Border his entire life, and Father had sacrificed his life for the country. The family's reputation for defending the homeland shouldn't be tarnished because of her.
Thinking from another perspective, if other Military Households could settle and establish themselves here, there was no reason she alone couldn't. With this thought, she felt much more at ease.
Noticing her prolonged silence, the cart driver thought she was frightened and comforted her, "Don't be afraid, ma'am. In recent years, the Great General has been guarding the border and has taught the Northern Di People many lessons. They wouldn't dare to invade lightly, so rest assured."
The Great General? Tang Wan vaguely remembered Grandfather mentioning him—apparently an exceptionally brave and formidable figure.
Hearing this, she felt somewhat relieved and nodded.
When they finally reached their destination, what they saw surprised them.
"Is this our land?" Tang Wan asked hesitantly.
"…It should be," Tang Mu replied, his brows furrowing.
The same stretch of land, separated by just a few paces, showed stark differences. The neighboring plot had dark soil meticulously tilled, with clear traces of last year’s plant ash visible. The moist earth appeared fertile and well cared for.
In contrast, the Tang family’s plot resembled neglected wasteland.
Weeds choked the field, last year’s dried stalks still standing where they’d been left, with no evidence of recent ploughing. Even if no planting had been done this year, the soil’s condition alone indicated no maintenance had been performed since last autumn.
Though the Northern Border’s harsh winters prevented farming, post-harvest practices like burning stubble for ash and burying straw were essential to aerate the soil and preserve its fertility. But this land lay hardened and pale, worse than barren wilderness.
Tang Wan crouched down, scooping soil into her palm and comparing it with the neighboring plot. Her suspicions solidified.
The Wu brothers hadn’t merely been negligent—they’d been playing her family for fools!
As the uncle turned his mule cart around, the siblings headed toward the nearest village.
Within the garrison boundaries outside Huai Rong County walls stood numerous villages. Years of warfare and famine had driven many from their homelands. Though the Northern Border endured severe cold, it still attracted displaced people.
Yinma River Village was settled by several dozen refugee households, named after the river flowing east of the settlement—where the Wu brothers resided.
The siblings had intended to confront the Wus directly, but before they’d gone far, Tang Mu tugged Tang Wan’s sleeve, pointing toward a figure in the distance.
Tang Wan followed his gesture.
Not far off, a farmer carried shoulder poles along a ridge between cultivated fields.
Tang Mu whispered, “Isn’t that Wu Laojiu?”
Tang Wan had largely forgotten the Wus’ faces, but Tang Mu wouldn’t mistake them—he’d mentioned the brothers coming recently to demand this year’s seed grain.
His sharp eyes scanned others working in the fields: old and young, all confirmed to be Wu family members. Wu Laoda guided a wooden plow behind an aging ox.
The ox moved slowly but plowed meticulously. Even from afar, the soil appeared dark and moist, furrows neat and well-defined—clear evidence of diligent effort.
Tang Wan watched quietly, puzzled. With six adult laborers, the Wu family should struggle to manage thirty mu of land. Had they leased additional fields from other Military Households?
She held her tongue, but Tang Mu’s eyes reddened with rage as he moved to leap from the cart and confront them. Tang Wan caught his arm.
“Not yet.”
“A-jie, they’re spitting on our kindness—”
“Let’s gather information first,” she reasoned. “We need to understand the situation.”
Being young and uninformed, charging in recklessly would gain them nothing.
Tang Mu steadied himself after his sister’s gentle persuasion, nodding with suppressed anger.
Tang Wan then told the carter, “Uncle, let’s proceed to Yinma River Village.”
The uncle sighed, having pieced together the situation from their conversation, and urged the mule onward without comment.
But resentment simmered in Tang Mu’s heart. He muttered bitterly, “When that family fled famine to the Northern Border, they begged on streets and nearly froze at our doorstep in winter. If Grandfather hadn’t taken them in, supported them through the cold months, and leased them our land come spring, they’d never have survived to put down roots here…”
Back when that family was crying and pleading to repay the Tang family's kindness, were they sincere or just putting on an act?
Tang Mu had faced one betrayal after another during this period, leaving the young boy's heart bewildered and aggrieved.
Tang Wan patted his arm reassuringly, "Don't overthink it. Let's get to the bottom of this first."
Hearing this, Tang Mu could only nod. No matter how others treated him, at least he still had A-jie.
Yinma River Village wasn't far. Tang Wan asked the cart driver to wait at the village entrance and brought Tang Mu into the settlement on foot.
The houses were low and humble. During this season, most villagers were busy in the fields, leaving few able-bodied adults in the village—only women and children remained at home. Seeing strangers approach, they initially showed wariness in their eyes, but upon noticing they were just two young teenagers, their guard relaxed slightly.
The siblings spotted several village women gathered together twisting hemp ropes and stitching shoe soles in the distance, so they headed in that direction.
The village women looked puzzled as they approached.
Tang Wan explained that they were siblings from a Military Household in the city, here to inquire about tenant farmers. At this explanation, the women's eyes grew more eager.
"We're young and don't understand farming matters, afraid of being deceived. If it's convenient, could you aunties give us some advice? Are there any tricks we should know about?"
Most villagers in Yinma River Village were reclaiming wasteland outside the garrison forts—not only far away but also requiring constant vigilance against Northern Di People raids. If they could tenant farmland inside the garrison forts, with the landowners providing funds and grain along with security, who wouldn't want to secure such work? They all began chattering enthusiastically.
Tang Wan listened carefully, committing everything to memory. When they had mostly finished speaking, she suddenly changed the subject: "I heard in other villages there are tenant farmers who take on two households' fields but can't manage both—cultivating one while leaving the other fallow. Does this really happen?"
Her tone was casual, but her eyes secretly observed the farmwives' reactions. Sure enough, some women's expressions shifted uneasily, though others dismissed it with laughter: "How could that be? We've only heard of multiple families helping cultivate one family's land, never one family taking two households' fields. Besides being unmanageable, the landowners wouldn't allow it, right? Whose fertile land would be left neglected like that?"
Tang Wan's lips curved slightly but her eyes remained humorless. Using the excuse of asking for water, she followed the uneasy-looking farmwife into her home. Through careful probing, she finally extracted the truth.
It turned out the Wu brothers hadn't taken on two households' fields—instead, they had used the Tang family's name to reclaim new land.
The original thirty mu of Tang family land received only perfunctory attention from the Wu family, just enough to ensure the annual military grain tax was paid on time. Meanwhile, the entire Wu family focused their main efforts on the newly reclaimed fields.
This was because Northern Border Military Households had a policy encouraging land reclamation.
Originally allocated land under Military Household registration required two dan of grain per mu annually, but newly reclaimed wasteland was exempt from taxes for the first three years, with only half required thereafter. While the imperial court intended this to encourage cultivation, the Wu brothers had found a loophole.
Having tenant-farmed for the Tang family for years, the Wu brothers had long realized the Tang family knew little about farming and were kind-hearted. As long as military grain taxes were paid on time, they could usually fabricate plausible excuses about the remaining harvest, whether abundant or meager.
Thus they conceived their scheme: secretly reclaim wasteland and covertly pocket the harvest from the new fields.
In recent years, under the guise of the Tang family's Military Household status, they had cultivated over ten acres of new land within the fortress yet never mentioned a word to the Tang family. All surplus grain went straight into their own granaries, not a single grain given to the main household.
While Lao Tangtou was still alive, the brothers had shown some restraint—even if just for appearances—prioritizing the original thirty acres for cultivation. But after learning of the old man's illness and passing last year, leaving behind two inexperienced young children, they couldn't even be bothered to keep up the pretense. As for how the thirty acres would be handled this year, that would have to wait until they'd finished tending to the new land.
That was why they had only visited the Tang family frequently recently. Seeing that the siblings couldn't even produce seeds for spring planting put their minds at ease.
The reason was ready-made: if the main household couldn't provide seeds, what good harvest could they expect?
Still, they feared the Tang family might truly fail to deliver grain, leading the military to reclaim the land under their name. So they planned to casually plant some crops on those fields and hand over the official grain quota after the autumn harvest. By then, they'd have the upper hand—the main household failed to provide seeds, yet the tenants supplemented the planting. Who could say they didn't know how to repay kindness? Who wouldn't praise their loyalty?
In time, the main household's thirty acres might just be swallowed up by them completely.
The peasant woman, unaware of Tang Wan's identity, shared this story as idle chatter and thumped her chest, vowing that her own family would never commit such unscrupulous acts.
Tang Wan pressed her lips together, her eyes turning cold.
It seemed she had been right to prevent Tang Mu from confronting the Wu family directly. With people who employed such cunning methods, if the siblings were to openly clash with them, who knew what disadvantages they might suffer?
Author's Note:
Here I am [Let me see]