Chapter 388
Xia Jinghong's heart leaped into his throat. He knew exactly what Fang Zichen was like, yet he clung to one last sliver of hope and asked:
"And the funds for building all those factories—where did that silver come from?"
The imperial guard shot him a nervous glance, barely daring to breathe: "It was... the silver Your Majesty originally gave Lord Fang..."
That beast is absolutely obsessed with money!
The problem isn't that the beast is greedy—it was that his greed left you with nothing to say.
If you didn't let him build, the common people had no work.
If you did let him build, it used up silver I'd given him.
"Lord Fang said that Your Majesty and he are brothers," the imperial guard continued, "that Your Majesty is wealthy and powerful, while he himself barely has enough to eat or wear. His three children are always crying from hunger, with barely any meat on their bones—they're practically skin and bones. He said that if Your Majesty knew, you'd surely be moved to pity and would support what he's doing. He said he understands you, so..."
Behind them, Eunuch Huang was struggling not to laugh.
Before Fang Zichen first left the capital, Eunuch Huang had seen Gungun and Dandan at their one-month celebration. Their faces were so pudgy, their little arms chubby and segmented like bamboo shoots—so plump you could hardly bear to look. With builds like that, once they reached Hezhou and couldn’t eat well, it would probably take two or three years before they even started to look thin.
Xia Jinghong's brow twitched violently. "Brother my foot! This brat—back in the capital, all he ever thought about was taking advantage of me. Now he's off to Hezhou, thousands of li away, and he still can't find someone else to leech off of—he's dead set on fleecing me! That bastard, why can't he just act like a decent human being?"
Both the Left and Right Chancellors wanted to laugh.
What a rascal.
They'd said it from the start—this guy was greedy. They'd tricked him into going out there, and once he realized the silver wasn't actually for him, given his nature, he'd pull out all the stops to make that money take a detour straight into his own pockets. And sure enough, it happened exactly as predicted.
They wanted to laugh.
Xia Jinghong wasn't truly angry either. After all, how much could building a few factories actually cost? It was just that Fang Zichen's antics left him both exasperated and amused at the same time.
The imperial guard then went on about the chemical fertilizer. The three of them listened with wide eyes, their hearts pounding like thunder in their chests, and kept insisting it couldn't be possible.
The imperial guard was practically parched from talking—he'd seen it with his own eyes, so how could it still be impossible?
After he'd finished telling them everything Fang Zichen had done, Xia Jinghong and the others found their emotions hard to settle. For a long while, the only sound in the imperial study was the heavy sound of breathing.
Back when they'd first thought highly of Fang Zichen, it was because he seemed capable—someone with real skill.
Since he knew about things like chemical fertilizer, why hadn't he mentioned it even once back then? If they'd used it earlier, the common people could have started living better lives sooner.
The moment Xia Jinghong thought this, he realized the answer.
How could he have mentioned it? Back in the capital, all that brat could think about was where and how to take advantage of people. Now that he's in Hezhou—that barren wasteland where everyone's so poor they've got nothing left but their underpants—there's no one left to mooch off of. So of course his brain finally turns to real matters, and of course he has to stand on his own two feet.
But he really is lazy at heart. Good thing I saw this coming early on and made that move—Zhao Ger didn't disappoint.
With that thought, Xia Jinghong felt rather clever and perked up again.
He discussed it with the two Chancellors and granted Fang Zichen's requests.
However…
The Right Chancellor said, "If what the imperial guard said is true, could this explosive powder be used in warfare?"
If it can blow up mountains, surely it can blow up people too?
But thinking that was one thing—no one actually knew if it could work, or how exactly it would be used in battle. From what the imperial guard said, the fuse burned very fast and the destructive power was enormous. It also had to be placed on the ground. Would the enemy just walk right onto it? If the person lighting it wasn't fast enough, would they get caught in the blast? There were also questions about whether it would be difficult to produce—a whole host of unknowns. And the man himself wasn't around to ask.
Then there was the chemical fertilizer—if it could be promoted widely, it would be a blessing for the people.
Xia Jinghong thought it over. "Let's not rush the explosive powder for now. But the fertilizer—that needs to be rolled out as soon as possible!"
Earlier, when he'd read the letter, his heart had felt heavy. But now, Xia Jinghong let out a sigh of relief.
This kid really could get things done.
Back then, despite all the objections, he'd sent Fang Zichen to Hezhou. In his heart, he'd hoped the man could do some good for the people there. If not, just holding the territory steady would've been enough. But it's only been a year! And he's already sent back all these surprises.
True, the people weren't rich yet, but in just one year he'd changed their very spirit and demeanor—that was already more impressive than anyone else. Asking himself honestly, if it were him in that position, could he have achieved this much in such a short time? Xia Jinghong didn't think so. He didn't have half as many tricks up his sleeve as that rascal.
If the fertilizer really worked—four dan per mu—then all the common people of Da Xia could live abundantly.
Would it be long before every household prospered?
Fang Zichen had once said: if you want the nation to be at peace, the nation first must become strong and wealthy.
The reason countries like Da Yuan dared to act this way was because Da Xia hadn't yet become so formidable that others shrank back in fear at the mere mention of its name.
How to become strong?
If the people couldn't even fill their bellies, wobbling with every step, skin and bones—how could they be strong?
When they had enough food and clothing, when military rations were ample, when the army could be armed to the teeth—that was strength.
And what was needed to support all that?
Grain.
Without enough to eat, everything else was just empty talk.
So what if he took some land and some silver? The imperial guard had said that the villagers there could barely fill their stomachs before. In better-off households, they could eat coarse grains every now and then. In poorer ones, they'd boil four or five sweet potatoes with whatever odds and ends they had for one meal. In the worst cases, they'd dig up tree roots to stave off hunger.
But even that wasn't enough to keep them full. The people were sallow and emaciated, and in winter, they had no warm clothes to protect them from the cold.
The life the common people lived there was truly bitter beyond words.
Yet now—how much time had passed? The factory was built, they'd gone to work there, they could not only eat their fill but also have meat two or three times a month, their children had clothes to wear, and every face wore a smile.
Xia Jinghong had traveled in disguise before, but never to places like this—he'd always gone to prosperous areas like Shangyang. Every meal he ate was exquisite, every dish perfect. His clothing and lodgings went without saying. When it was hot in summer, he had ice and palace maids fanning him. When it was cold in winter, the finest charcoal burned in his rooms—not a trace of smoke, the whole chamber warm and cozy.
How would people at the top ever know the suffering of those at the bottom?
Hearing for the first time that people ate tree roots, that coarse grain was considered good living—it sounded like something out of a fairy tale. But the imperial guard wasn't exaggerating. If it weren't so, why would people freeze and starve to death year after year in Hezhou?
If Fang Zichen had withheld wages and tried to pocket that money too, Xia Jinghong would have issued an imperial edict charging him with crimes without a second thought. But just as they'd said from the start—this man knew what he could take and what he couldn't.
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