The Fulang's Modern Young Husband Chapter 406 Part 2

The commotion grew loud, so the young apprentice came over to ask what had happened.

The old woman apologized to everyone repeatedly, then explained the old man's situation.

The old man was still on his son's back, unconscious. When the young apprentice touched him, he was burning hot. But the people wouldn't give way, and the young apprentice had no choice either: "Go queue outside! You can't cut in line unless you have a certificate issued by the yamen."

"Huh? What certificate?" Not only the old man's family, but even those queuing nearby didn't understand.

The young apprentice said: "You didn't know? Didn't you go to the yamen when they were conscripting? Those who were selected—didn't the yamen issue a little booklet?"

They had, but the commoners couldn't read! At the time of conscription, things were hectic. The prefects at the county yamen had been useless before, embezzling funds left and right. The yamen runners hadn't been paid, so many had quit. Later, when Fang Zichen came, he conscripted soldiers, trained them, and after they learned a few moves, sent them down to various places to serve as constables. So the yamen hadn't rehired runners—there were only a few people there.

At the time of conscription, things were busy. Those selected were given the little booklets, but the yamen runners hadn't had time to explain them clearly. The booklets were finely made, with hard covers and the prefect's seal stamped inside. The yamen runners had said not to lose them, so everyone took them home and put them away. Then they got busy with spring planting. Who could remember this?

When the magistrate's aide had read the notice aloud, he'd also said military families could enjoy priority policies, encouraging everyone to enlist enthusiastically.

But priority for what? No one understood. If it was priority for buying pork, well, that was nothing—waiting a bit didn't matter, it wouldn't take long.

Now the young apprentice asked: "Does your family have the booklet?"

The old woman quickly said, "Yes, yes! My second son enlisted last year."

The first conscription last year hadn't had this policy. The little red booklets were issued afterward, delivered to their homes by officials. The old man had shown it off all over the village back then.

The young apprentice said: "Then go get it! With the little red booklet, you can have the physician see your husband first, and get a discount on medicine too."

Ah! 

So that's how it works? 

Really? Truly? 

There's such a good thing? 

Hard to believe!

Everyone watched as the old man's son set him down under the eaves and rushed off toward the street. In the time it takes half an incense stick to burn, he came running back.

"The little red booklet! I have the little red booklet!"

The young apprentice took it and showed it to the old physician. The old physician examined it—no mistake. This red booklet was issued by the yamen, with the lord's seal stamped in bright red.

"Bring them over!"

The patient who was about to be seen was unhappy. The old physician glared at him. What was he unhappy about? If he had a complaint, go to the yamen. If he dared make trouble in the medical hall, they'd call the yamen runners and give him a beating with the plank.

He took the pulse—indeed, the fever was severe. The old physician quickly had the young apprentice fetch herbs and brew them in the back.

They were all common cold medicines. Everyone knew the price of a dose.

The old physician took out a ledger from his desk, wrote down the old man's name, and told the old woman to press her thumbprint.

Why press a thumbprint?

As proof! Later, they would take this ledger to the yamen to claim reimbursement.

The discounted portion would be covered by the yamen—the medical hall couldn't be expected to bear it.

So that was how it worked.

This time, when they saw the old woman press her thumbprint and pay ninety-three copper coins, they did the math—it really was a discount.

So that was what "priority benefits" meant all along.

Being a soldier is great!

Many thought that if they had known earlier, they would not have feared the hardship and would have sent their children too. If they had one of those little red booklets, it would be their turn by now — no need to stand in line anxiously.

When the old man's son saw everyone staring at the red booklet in his hand with burning eyes, he immediately put it away, afraid someone might snatch it.

After this incident, the common folk truly felt that being a soldier was a good thing! They had only recruited a few tens of thousands at first — for a place as big as Hezhou, that was far too few. So how about it, my lord, why not recruit some more?

Fang Zichen thought about it. He hadn't planned to agree, but then news came from Jizhou that things had been quite peaceful there lately. Da Yuan had been driven back by the Northwest Army two months ago and should have been scared off — they hadn't invaded again in the past two months, so please rest assured, my lord.

Rest assured my foot!

After hearing it all, Fang Zichen had already reached a conclusion.

Earlier he'd only suspected that Da Yuan and Northern Qi might be trying to ally with the Chao Kingdom to attack Da Xia from both sides. Now he was fairly certain.

There's no way Da Yuan would be scared off by the Northwest Army alone.

Da Yuan used to send troops to invade every few days. Sometimes the Northwest Army chased them and fought; sometimes they chased the Northwest Army and fought. The two armies just went back and forth like it was a game. If they were scared, the Da Yuan Army should've been scared long ago.

But no — they were like a dead pig that isn't afraid of boiling water, like a dog that can't stop eating shit. First, Da Yuan was warlike by nature. Second, they coveted Da Xia's fertile land too much. Right now they were probably just resting and rebuilding their strength.

But they had been fighting so frequently before—if they suddenly went quiet, something was fishy. They were probably deliberately using this as a pretext.

Things were not looking good!

Fang Zichen ordered another round of conscription.

But this time, it was mainly young women and gers, with five thousand more men.

You can't keep shearing wool from the same sheep.

He'd already conscripted tens of thousands before. Though the locals had plenty of children—three or four per family—the fields basically relied on manual labor. If all the young men were taken, how much could the elderly, women, gers, and children farm? Half the land would probably go to waste. That wouldn't do either.

Fang Zichen didn't personally oversee this matter—he left it to the county magistrate below.

But the next day, the magistrate sent word back: "My lord, it's no good—there are too many of those young women and gers. What do we do!" 

"Then raise the requirements. No matter what, five thousand men, plus another five hundred  young women and gers." 

Once everything was arranged and the yamen runners left, Zhao Ger came to call him: "I stewed a chicken. Do you want to come have some?"

Fang Zichen had been away in Anxi County for over half a month and had lost a lot of weight. His dark circles were worse than when he'd smeared soot under his eyes to extort Zhang Huaiwen at the yamen. Guaizai had also gotten thin as a monkey—even his little topknot couldn't stand up properly, drooping listlessly. Zhao Ger's heart ached terribly, and ever since they got back, he'd been stewing chicken to nourish the father and son.

Fang Zichen shook his head: "I've eaten it for two days straight. I'm sick of it. Come here so I can kiss you."

Zhao Ger glared at him: "Shameless." But he still walked over quickly with a red face, sat right down on Fang Zichen's lap, wrapped his arms around his neck, and offered up his face.

Fang Zichen chuckled softly to himself: This ger says no with his mouth, but his body is completely honest.