If it had been some other issue—something the common folk simply didn't understand—Fang Zichen wouldn't have been so upset. It would have been unreasonable to come down too hard on them for that. But this was about money, and that was what truly made his blood boil.
At this very moment, riding on horseback, he was cursing Old Man Qiu over and over in his mind.
Zhao Ger found it amusing: "Husband, so are we really not building the road anymore?"
"No," Fang Zichen said flatly.
Seeing that he wasn't just speaking in anger, Zhao Ger paused and said, "Wouldn't that be a bit... improper?"
Zhang Quan thought the same.
Fang Zichen snorted. "What's improper? If I don't make an example out of one village, every single one of them will think I'm easy to bully. Zhang Quan, go and look into this so-called Old Master Qiu for me—find out who he is."
His tone was fierce, and the name "Old Master Qiu" came out through gritted teeth, as if he were grinding it to dust.
Zhang Quan glanced at Fang Zichen's gloomy face and shuddered.
He was genuinely furious.
Zhang Quan knew better than anyone just how tight-fisted this man was. He had been working for nearly thirty years and considered himself experienced in the ways of the world, but in all his life, he had never seen anyone so fond of taking advantage of others. And yet, the prefect's household was far from destitute. Still, the man would haggle over a single vegetable leaf and grumble for ages over spending even one extra copper coin. Now someone had the audacity to try and turn the tables on him—and not just for a little, but for a hundred taels or more. He had to admit, the other party was bold beyond measure.
To pull a stunt like that, they clearly hadn't done their homework on the prefect!
This Old Master Qiu had fallen into the prefect's hands. Even if he didn't die, he'd certainly lose a layer of skin.
Old Master Qiu's background was easy enough to investigate. When Fang Zichen heard the report from the imperial guards, it only made him angrier.
Just a powerless old man—and he dared to cross me? Damn it. I've been too soft, and now everyone thinks they can walk all over me.
Zhao Ger had initially thought Fang Zichen was being a bit rash, but now he no longer felt that way.
The fertilizer was nearly ready. Fang Zichen didn't have time to deal with Old Master Qiu right now, so he had to set it aside for later.
With Zhao Ger and Uncle Tang personally overseeing the work, Fang Zichen dared not slack off even a little. After a full seven days of effort, the fertilizer was finally completed.
Zhao Ger stared at the basin of whitish-gray substance, somewhat dazed.
"This is fertilizer?"
Fang Zichen wasn't entirely sure either. "It should be."
Zhao Ger looked at him. "Should be?"
Fang Zichen scratched his head. He'd read a lot over the years, but fertilizer was never something he'd paid much attention to. For one thing, he just wasn't interested. For another, it felt so far removed from his daily life—he'd never had any real contact with it. The only exposure he'd had was during chemistry class, when the teacher showed them a few videos as an extra lesson. At the time, he had skipped grades and was already in high school. That was years ago now, and he only remembered the general outline. But he had followed the instructions from the books—everything plants needed for growth, he had included in this fertilizer. So it should be right.
The fertilizer gave off a sharp, pungent smell that stung the eyes if one got too close. Zhao Ger blinked a few times and stepped back.
"Husband, how do we apply this fertilizer?"
That was exactly why Fang Zichen hadn't wanted to make it in the first place.
He was the kind of person who only licked the lid when drinking yogurt—how would he know how to apply fertilizer?
The first time in his life he'd ever worked the land or held a hoe was back in Xiaohe Village, when he helped Aunt He dig up sweet potatoes.
Now, being asked this question, he truly didn't know the answer.
"Back when I watched those videos, people seemed to use just a small handful. They said if you used too much, it would burn the plants."
Zhao Ger didn't quite understand the first part, but he understood the latter.
In the village, people always built their outhouses in the backyard because of the smell—putting one out front would make the whole yard stink. On cold winter days or rainy nights, when it was too much trouble to go outside, everyone would use a chamber pot indoors instead.
At first, people would just dump the contents directly onto their vegetable plots. But the next morning, they'd find that the greens they'd watered with urine had turned yellow, their edges curling up as if scorched by fire.
This had happened to every household. Zhao Ger had lived in the village for a long time, so he knew this well.
Now, uncertain of the correct dosage—too little and it would be ineffective, too much and the crops might get "burned"—Zhao Ger could only take the fertilizer to the small garden beside the house to test it.
It was his own planting. The farming couple who lived there were old, with poor teeth and appetites, so they didn't eat much vegetables. They usually only grew two small plots. After Zhao Ger arrived, with their permission, he had planted several more plots on the other side.
One plot was left untreated. On another, half of the plants received one handful each, and the other half got two handfuls. On a third plot, he applied three handfuls directly.
For plants, this fertilizer works much like meat does for people.
Just as eating plenty of meat helps a person grow strong—like how a well-fed mother gives birth to a chubby, healthy baby, while a poorly fed one has a frail, thin baby—the right amount of fertilizer makes crops thrive.
But if you give too much, just like overeating meat, it overloads the plants and harms them.
For now, this was only a test. If he let the ordinary villagers use it and it really boosted their harvest, that would be wonderful. But if it ended up killing all their crops, Fang Zichen would have no choice but to grab his things and slip away in the dead of night, all the way back to Hezhou City.
---
In the eighth month, the cement roads that had been built in various places were finally ready for people to walk on.
Daping Village in Luoshan County was the very first one to be finished.
Because they needed to haul cement out from Taiping Village, and the old road to the county seat was too narrow for oxcarts, Li Yisheng assigned the conscripted workers from the surrounding areas to begin work on Taiping Village first.
Widening the road and tamping it down—everyone understood that much. But once they had flattened it out and thought the job was finished, Li Yisheng told them to sprinkle water all over the surface.
This left everyone completely baffled.
When the workers asked Li Yisheng why they had to do this, he didn't really know the answer himself. He was simply following Fang Zichen's orders exactly as given.
In his eyes, his brother had a sharp mind and never made mistakes. If Fang Zichen said to water the road, there had to be a good reason for it.
The real purpose was this: soaking the ground thoroughly allows it to absorb enough moisture, which stops the cement from cracking after it's applied. If the ground doesn't absorb enough water, the cement won't bond properly to the base layer underneath.
Fang Zichen had already given detailed instructions on the proportions of cement and sand to mix, as well as how to proceed with the construction. The foremen in charge were all clear on this.
First, water the ground; then lay down a gravel base; and finally, spread the cement mixture over it. After that, because the weather was hot, they had to keep sprinkling water over the surface to stop it from cracking as it hardened. If it rained, they had to cover the road with straw. And before the cement was completely dry, no one could walk on it—not even touch it.
It was certainly a lot of trouble.
Building a road was being treated like some kind of grand ceremony. Why make it so smooth? It wasn't as if anyone was going to sleep on it. When a heavy rain came, it would all wash away anyway—just a waste of effort.
Everyone secretly thought the prefect was being way too fussy, but since they were getting paid, they kept those thoughts to themselves and never voiced them aloud.
Then, a few days later, a heavy rain fell during the night. Since the road had been made with such care, everyone got up in the morning sighing with regret.
They figured that all that sand and material had probably been washed clean away by now.
But then someone from the village entrance came running in haste, face full of shock and disbelief, voice trembling as he shouted for everyone to come and see!
"See what?"
"The cement road..."
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