Chapter 366
When Zhao Ger heard the news, he was momentarily stunned.
The entire canal was now almost completely dug through and connected. Originally, the waterway had been divided into nine sections, with each section assigned to a different village below.
Now it was almost complete, but the remaining finishing work—according to the schedule—would still take about seven or eight days.
Completing it within four days was truly pushing it.
That evening, Zhao Ger brought Guaizai back to the residence. He saw Fang Zichen in the courtyard, playing with the two little ones, holding one in each arm. He kissed this one, then that one—their cheeks were as soft as jelly, and he was having a great time.
Gungun and Dandan were plump and round, looking very festive. They kicked their little legs about, their faces flushed red from all the kissing, but they just kept giggling happily, clearly delighted.
Zhao Ger washed his hands and joined in the fun. Xiao Feng went to the kitchen and brought back some food. Guaizai wolfed it down, and Xiao Feng patted his head: "Slow down, eat slowly."
Guaizai lifted his shirt, showing his little belly: "Brother Xiao Feng, Guaizai's tummy is all flat—can't slow down!"
Xiao Feng felt it—it was indeed a bit flat—but he wasn't fooled. The boy reeked of chicken, and his sleeves were glossy with oil!
Zhao Ger pinched Dandan's chubby little hand and asked, "Husband, has something happened?"
Fang Zichen explained in a few short sentences.
Zhao Ger's brows knitted tightly.
Guaizai forgot all about his snacks and clenched his little fists.
"A whole bunch of bad guys! Father, take them out, take them all out! Bad guys need a beating!"
"Mmm!" Fang Zichen was fired up too. His fists tightened, veins bulging on his forehead as he swung his arm: "Once we're done here, Father will go over and wipe them out. Damn it, I'll show them who's boss!"
Guaizai bounced around excitedly. "That's right! Wipe them out! Raid their den! Restore peace to the world!"
"Good! Father will smash them to pieces!"
"Get them! Get them!"
Zhao Ger: "..."
He watched the two of them—over a decade apart in age, yet somehow perfectly in sync, their faces flushed with excitement as if they'd downed several catties of wine. In their eyes, those bandits might as well be chickens and clay dogs—nothing to fear, the whole bandit-suppression mission seemed like a sure thing.
"Husband," Zhao Ger said, feeling uneasy. In his mind, bandits were no joke, and he truly couldn't rest easy. "When the time comes, I'll go with you."
Fang Zichen understood his concern: "I'll just take the boy with me."
Zhao Ger knitted his brows: "But—"
"Don't worry—you know me." If he got there and realized they truly couldn't handle it, he'd definitely pull back. He was still young, not tired of living yet—no way he was getting himself killed. Fang Zichen added, "I'll actually have something else for you to help with when the time comes."
Zhao Ger knew that Fang Zichen was a proud man who never took on anything without being sure of it. He asked: "What is it?"
Fang Zichen handed the children over to Xiao Feng and Guaizai, then led Zhao Ger into the study.
Recently, Fang Zichen had been shadowed every step of the way by Uncle Tang—so much so that he'd become diligently "studious." By now, he had fully mapped out everything about Hezhou: what was produced where, what was grown where, and what the terrain and soil conditions were like.
Zhao Ger took the notebook Fang Zichen handed him, read it carefully for a long while, then exclaimed in surprise: "Husband, you want to build a factory in Anping County? What's a 'factory'?"
Fang Zichen paused, then explained.
Zhao Ger listened intently, his eyes growing brighter by the end. "Husband, don't worry—I'll make sure this gets done."
In the past, Zhao Ger would never have spoken with such confidence. But over this past month, he had been solely in charge of the entire canal project in Anhe County, and nothing had gone wrong. Fang Zichen had seized every opportunity to praise him. Now Zhao Ger was walking on air—feeling like even Da Xia itself was too small to hold him. A factory? That was nothing.
Fang Zichen pulled him into a hug, buried his face in the crook of Zhao Ger's neck, and let out two deep breaths before pressing his forehead against Zhao Ger's. "You've worked so hard."
"It's no trouble." Zhao Ger wrapped his arms around Fang Zichen's waist. "I enjoy it. Being able to help you makes me happy. But—do we really need to rush this much?"
"We have no choice but to rush," Fang Zichen said with a grimace.
After learning that the previous prefect had disbanded the city-defending troops, Fang Zichen had immediately sent a few of the Qin family soldiers to Jizhou to scout things out.
Jizhou was the prefecture on the farthest edge of Da Xia, where the Northwest Army was stationed. Its counties—Wanping, Nanhe, and the city of Jilin—bordered small states like Da Yuan, Beiqie, and Beimang—conflicts never ceased. The Qin soldiers had returned quickly, and the news they brought back made Fang Zichen deeply uneasy.
Dayuan had been having unusually close dealings with Beiqie lately.
What were they planning?
If Da Yuan couldn't take Da Xia on its own, would it try to join forces with Beiqie and the other small states?
Putting himself in their shoes—if he were up against someone too tough to beat—Fang Zichen knew he'd definitely seek outside help. The only reasons these states hadn't allied yet were either: the terms weren't settled, they were still preparing, or they were wary of Da Xia and couldn't make up their minds.
These small states were a perpetual nuisance. For the past century, they'd been constantly "harassing" Da Xia's borders. Back when the Zhou family army was around, they'd been beaten so badly they'd submitted a surrender letter and behaved themselves for years. Now they were stirring again, with small troops active along the border.
They hadn't attacked yet, but Fang Zichen wasn't about to believe they'd laid down their weapons. Da Yuan had just been defeated by the Northwest Army the year before last—they'd likely taken losses and were probably rebuilding their strength, waiting to strike again once they'd recovered.
He had to be on guard.
As for the Northwest Army... Fang Zichen had a nagging feeling they couldn't be fully relied upon. If they were capable, those small states wouldn't have been allowed to provoke Da Xia for so long—and last year they'd even let Da Yuan's troops fight their way right to their doorstep. A reserve force had to be raised as soon as possible. Otherwise, if something really happened, he'd be the one taking the blame. He was stuck here for five years—there was no way he'd let anyone come raising hell on his turf.
---
When word came down from above to speed up the work, none of the villagers raised any objections.
The other villages didn't know about Fang Zichen's mountain-blasting plan, but with nine copper coins a day in wages, a shortened noon break, and longer work hours—adding over an extra shichen each day on average—nobody complained. After all, if they went to town to find work, they'd only earn seven or eight copper coins a day—and that was without meals included.
As for Ronghe Village and Xiaping Village—they didn't need to be told twice. Everyone was eager to work overtime, day and night, to dig out the channel and clear away the rocks, just so the prefect could come and blast that mountain to pieces.
For generations, the village elders had stood at the foot of the Stone Mountain every autumn harvest, sighing at it—it had trapped them here. If only they could dig through that mountain, level it to the ground, and channel the water here...
Bringing the water through—it was a dream that had been passed down for over a dozen generations.
It was finally going to happen.
They pushed hard, and after two days, when the explosives were finally remade, Fang Zichen took the imperial guards up the mountain again.
On the 12th, the entire waterway was finally complete.
Villagers from every village—young and old alike—stood along the riverbanks. The notice had come down: today was the official day to blast through the mountain and release the water.
Earlier, they'd all thought it was impossible. Yet now, an uncontrollable hope stirred within them... Maybe it really could work?
But just as they thought that, they felt silly.
They hoped and hoped, but their reason reminded them: how could it be? The prefect was young—he didn't know how hard or how tall that Stone Mountain was. But they knew. How could they be daydreaming in broad daylight?
Even so, no one moved a step. They all faced toward Ronghe Village, eyes fixed, watching intently—their gazes unconsciously carrying a flicker of hope.
Xingping Village bordered Ronghe Village, which sat higher up—at the upstream end.
They stood like statues. The weather wasn't even that hot, yet everyone's palms were slick with sweat.
Then, in the afternoon, two imperial guards came riding down from the upstream banks on either side of the channel, shouting sternly:
"Water will soon be released upstream! In a hundred breaths, no one is to approach within two meters of the riverbank! Water will soon be released upstream! In a hundred breaths, no one is to approach within two meters of the riverbank!"
[1 breath (息, xī): one full inhalation and exhalation]
They rode past the villagers shouting their warnings, then continued down to notify the villages further along.
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