It comes as no great surprise to learn my ideas don’t always translate into workable solutions, but considering I intend to uproot one and a half million families and settle them along a thousand kilometre border, I can’t really afford to use my tried and true tactic of ‘make it up as I go’.
A good thing I’ve been set up for success. My greatest advantage as a civil servant is my past life’s memories. Scattered and inexact though they may be, they offer me a working model of an effective society to not only emulate, but improve upon, since I’m pretty much working with a clean slate. Money also helps, but ten-million gold does not go as far as I would like considering it only works out to six gold and six silvers per family. Things would’ve been fine if I went with my initial plan of pricing the land at double what I paid for, but the Legate insisted on charging six times the initial price in order to take a bigger cut, which means there’s less money in the budget for things like food, clothes, tools, building materials, and more.
Luckily, as the influential Minister of Finance, I can call on my allies to supply me with big brain planners to help work out all those finicky details standing in the way of success. Alongside the hundred Royal Guardians he dispatched to guard my money, the Legate also provided me with an army of pencil pushers to help out with paperwork. It turns out the Eastern Province is truly a haven for the noble elites, where Imperial Peers are as common as clouds and even the lowliest non-Supreme Family Scions have a cadre of trained slaves to handle the day to day drudgery, leaving these pampered nobles free to pursue education and the Martial Path. Aside from being amateur Warriors, many of my new clerks are also ninth generation ‘nobility’, so unless they render enough merits to warrant a new title, then their family lines will end with them, because the tenth generation is obligated to enter Imperial Service.
Luo-Luo touched on this the first day I met her, but I never really gave it too much thought. It’s horrifying, is what it is, an entire generation given into slavery, whether it be as an Imperial Servant, a Death Corps Guard, or just a plain old slave indoctrinated from birth to believe themselves inferior to ‘proper’ Imperial Nobles, despite the fact that they themselves would be Nobles if not for a minor quirk of fate. All my Death Corps guards have ancestors who were Imperial Nobles, some as recent as their parents, and others as far back as a hundred generations or more. Once you fall from grace, there is no climbing back up, not even for someone as exceptional as Luo-Luo. Her noble parents gave her over to Imperial Service, and the best she can hope for is for her children to become Nobles, ones who would be laughed at for having an Imperial Servant for a mother.
This monstrous and insightful glimpse into life in the Eastern Province notwithstanding, it’s actually somewhat refreshing to meet Imperial Scions who are lower-ranked than I am, though the rules for hierarchy are fairly fast and loose, from what I can discern. Supreme Families aside, there are no set tiers or levels to adhere to, but more of an unspoken pecking order which is based on who you know. Being Minister of Finance isn’t worth shit to these haughty Imperial Scions, but being the Legate’s golden boy puts me in the upper stratosphere of individual rankings. Conversely, my pencil pushers are all on the bottom rung of the ladder and are treated as only one step up from slaves, which is disheartening to see since most are more competent than my de-facto supervisor and superior, Administrator Liang Yin Hang.
Take for example, Liu Xuande, a ninth generation Imperial Scion who quickly rose to become my right hand man, or at least one of my right hand people, if you include Luo-Luo, Rustram, Muyang, Junior, and my various other associates who I couldn’t live without. A soft-spoken man with the most glorious beard I’ve ever had the pleasure to be jealous of, Xuande is an intelligent scholar with a quick wit and an easy smile, and is also one of the few Imperial Scions who doesn’t treat slaves and commoners like trash. Not exactly high praise, but I’ve had to lower my standards significantly since entering the cutthroat world of politics and administration, and he seems like a decent enough sort. What’s more, Xuande is a Martial Expert who uses his Natal Palace to memorize vast swathes of data and can solve complex mathematical equations faster than I can read them out in full. With him at my side, I never have to sort through stacks of documents to find the information I’m looking for, as Xuande and his three Expert assistants, Guan Yunchang, Zhang Yide, and Jian Xianhe, have everything memorized and can not only recite the information I need, but also locate the relevant documents in record time.
Meanwhile, Administrator Liang Yin Hang has trouble processing things one sentence at a time, but he enjoys a high status because of his surname and close relation to the Grand Marshal and Legate both. It’s bullshit, but such is life.
The best part is I don’t have to pay any of them. In fact, Xuande and the others straight up refused my offer of salary, as they are all here working for ‘exposure’, meaning the Legate promised them they could ride my coattails to success and obtain Imperial Titles of their own. Hungry for success, it only took them one full day to go through my notes and come up with a plan of action, and they set to writing up lists, contracts, and standardized forms for me to stamp and hand over to the Marshals. Fun fact, it turns out that marking something with an Imperial Seal makes it illegal to tamper or alter the document without express permission. This means the Guardian Turtle stamp I had made for shits and giggles, and the Legate made official for what I believe are the same reasons, is exceptionally useful for making these standardized forms ‘official’. Adding required information to official documents is perfectly fine, but changing the terms of the contract to take advantage of an illiterate populace is punishable by death, which is pretty helpful when doing this much paperwork.
My new printing press also came into vital play, and Xuande became fast friends with the inventor, an outer-provincial Clerk by the name of Bi Sheng. That was the first clue I had that Xuande was a good man, because most of the other Imperial Scions won’t give the time of day to someone from the outer provinces, but the magnanimous Xuande cares little for background or status. That said, I’ve been undervaluing Bi Sheng because I thought his printing press was kinda trash, since it didn’t really fit my vision of what a printing press should be. It’s just a whole shit-tonne of clay character stamps which are painstakingly arranged by hand to create one giant, full page stamp, but it’s good enough for my purposes, so I guess it’ll hafta do.
I don’t know what I expected from a printing press, but I always thought heat would be involved somehow, because of the phrase ‘hot off the presses’. Also, it would be really nice if I didn’t have to manually stamp everything, as it is both boring and painful going through the same motions hour after hour after hour. That was my job for several days, just stamping stacks upon stacks of documents, and were it not for Taduk’s Healing, I might well have developed a repetitive stress injury from those boring, nightmarish days.
This is my life now. Office drudgery by day, and studying a megalomaniac’s research diary by night. Fun, fun, fun.
Aside from my highly-educated and unpaid Imperial interns, I’m also fortunate enough to have my beloved wife to help me in my endeavours. Rather than run off to the bamboo grove every day, my lovely Mila actually took an interest in my work for once, and spent two or three days a week keeping me company at the office, as well as several hours after dinner poring over documents to make sure I hadn’t done anything too stupid. Proving once again she isn’t all brawn and no brain, she turned out to be exceedingly well-versed in logistics, which shouldn’t have come as a surprise considering she grew up watching her mother run the Sentinels and her father operate a successful blacksmithing enterprise. While numbers and documents aren’t Mila’s thing, she has an intuitive grasp of how to coordinate between multiple organizations and shipping routes so things arrive not only in a timely manner, but in an order that makes sense.
It’s all black magic to me, but Mila just makes it work, and she even helps me understand Cao Cuo’s instructions which are just gobbledygook to me. There’s nothing this woman can’t do, and I am in complete awe of her capabilities. Good thing she has terrible judgment though, because otherwise she would never have married me.
Hehe. My wife. I have a wife. Seems crazy, but amazing.
Another advantage I have is an eclectic group of friends and subordinates to draw on for their wealth of life experiences. Typically, I turn to Rustram for matters like this, but having been born and raised inside a city, he wasn’t of much use figuring out what farmers on the frontier would need. Instead, I found help elsewhere, in the most surprising of individuals. Few people care to navigate through the uncharted wilds of the North, but as a smuggler, Siyar travelled through areas untouched by humanity before his arrival. He knows more about bush-craft than most people learn in a lifetime and knows exactly what not to do when arranging homes and villages. As such, he was able to pick up on problems even the Marshals’ planners failed to spot, so I made him my chief urban planner and had him poring over maps day in and day out.
Lang Yi was another valuable resource, as he made a living as a fisherman in the bandit-infested wilds of Sanshu and knows a thing or two about survival. One day, on a rare trip to the training grounds to watch Mila and my friends spar, I got to complaining about having to decide between buying wood, stone, or leather for proper housing. Cutting short his training session with Argat, Lang Yi brought me aside and said, “Boss, they are commoners, not children. There is no need to concern yourself with so much.”
Which I thought was pretty callous. When I asked him how he expected the farmers and tradesmen to build homes without tools or materials, Lang Yi frowned and fell silent for a long minute, before understanding dawned on his stony expression. “Not all homes are made of wood and stone, Boss,” he said. “They will make do with what they have.”
And it turns out, he was right. After looking into the matter, I discovered that while Central’s Cities have plenty of wood and stone structures, this is only because those are the areas where wealth is concentrated. Unlike in the North, there aren’t too many dangerous wild beasts forcing the population to congregate around the cities to stay safe, so the population is far more spread out than I once thought. In fact, I’ve never laid eyes on a proper Central village before, because given the scarcity of wood here on the plains, most commoners in the province build their homes out of sod, grass, mud, or clay. It was kind of embarrassing to have overlooked something so basic as dirt for a building material, but I wasn’t the only one, as Luo-Luo and my Imperial interns also failed to pick up on it, but that’s hardly reassuring. I’ve been afflicted with a mild form of affluenza as it were, unable to see past my own wealthy perspective and realize how the other ninety-nine percent live.
Lang Yi was right about a lot of things. I didn’t need to give away clothes, tools, or even possibly cattle like I was considering, because most farmers could make do on their own. If they didn’t own or couldn’t fashion tools on their own, then they could trade labour for tools from other families who could, or even promise a share of their harvest in exchange for goods and services. As for giving away cattle, I only ever considered it because Mila pointed out I have hundreds of moo-moos I’d never met taking up space on my ranch, but now I don’t have to give them up and can feel free to meet and name them.
Which is good, because Luo-Luo almost threw a hissy fit when I first brought the matter up. Poor girl loves those cattle, but I need to do something about them, because they’re multiplying like bunnies and I’m running out of room to keep them. I admit I have an animal hoarding problem, and it’s probably for the best only one person gifted me a pet at my wedding, but so long as all my floofs and honorary floofs are happy and well cared for, I don’t see a need to change.
Also, baby cattle are so adorable... I can’t help it.
For fifteen days, I worked day and night to ensure every last detail was accounted for, aside from taking a few nights off to indulge with my beautiful blushing Mila after she rigged up some new restraints, and one frantic, passionate night with Yan before she set off for the front lines with Huu. I also hosted my War Bond Bearer Banquet, which the Legate attended, and rewarded my supporters by giving face at public events and favouring them for contracts, but all in all, most of my time was devoted to making sure everything was in place for the first group of settlers, twenty-thousand families delivered by Marshal Yo to the outskirts of the Central Citadel two weeks after my wedding.
And I, in a misguided sense of guilt and concern, decided I should be there to greet at least one group of them, and introduce them to all the new hardships they were about to face.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Though only a small portion are here before me, my heart aches as I watch the tired masses step down from their wagons clutching all their worldly possessions. A minority have mules, chickens, sheep, or other livestock with them, including one big family with a massive herd of sheep, and they all scurry about getting everyone settled in place. Some people stop to pray before Ping Ping, who looms overhead with a new crown of cloth flowers, because I thought she was too cute to go without one. Others nervously eye the Citadel in the distance behind me, and huddle closer to their loved ones for comfort and security. The majority of the settlers, however, go bug eyed at the sight of my official Imperial Scion robes and almost trip over themselves trying to kowtow, but I’ve long since learned that trying to help them up only makes things worse. “There is no need to bow,” I shout, waving them along. “So please make your way into the square so everyone can disembark in a timely fashion.”
Never before have I seen a crowd organize themselves so quickly or quietly, with mothers shushing their children and fathers glaring at sons. In a matter of minutes, all eight-hundred families are gathered in the square with plenty of room to spare, which is good because this massive, open field marked by bundles of reeds is their future safe haven. “Hello. I am Minister of Finance Falling Rain,” I begin, smiling for all I’m worth while Xuande echoes my words. He’s a much more emotive public speaker than Kuang Biao, and while he can’t project his voice loud enough to be heard over the din of battle, addressing quiet crowds like this is perfectly fine. “Allow me to be the first to welcome you to your new homes.”
There is no applause, as most of the crowd is staring at their shoes, though a few curious youngsters are bold enough to peek up and earn themselves a smile and a wave from yours truly. “I’m sure you’re all tired from your long journey and eager to begin your new lives, but I’d like to briefly go over some key details before showing you your new property.” Pausing for a moment to consider how to phrase this, I deviate from my script and add, “If you could all look up so you can follow along with my gestures, that would be much appreciated.”
Even with a politely worded order, the commoners are scared to meet my eyes, and I make a note to be more of a public figure and leave the explaining to others. I mean, this isn’t the only group who will have to hear this speech today, as I wrote it up and instructed my people to go over these same points, but I wanted to be a part of the moment and didn’t consider how my presence might scare some people. Well, it’s too late for regrets, and asking Xuande to take over probably wouldn’t make a difference, since he’s also an Imperial Scion and far above these common people, so I push on with the script.
Gesturing at the reed markers, I say, “This square is designated district one, and will serve as the central hub for blocks one through four, which is where you all will call home.” As expected, the words mean nothing to these people, so I explain, “Think of this as your town square, a town made up of the fine folk around you, while each block is a smaller neighbourhood inside the town, where your purchased land sits.” That earns me a few nods, though there are many doubtful looks, as they’re more used to living together and travelling out to their farms each day, but that’s inefficient with so many people gathered in one place. “Directly to the south sits blocks five through eight, which surround district two, and south of that, blocks nine through twelve surrounding district three, and so on, and so forth. You are all free to travel wherever you please and visit other blocks or districts, but keep in mind that those lands belong to other people like yourselves, so please be mindful of their privacy and keep to the designated paths. Trespassing on private property without permission is punishable by law, but I warn you against taking the law into your own hands.”
Pausing because I expect a question, I continue on when no one speaks up, because obedience and subservience is baked into their bones. “If you have any crimes to report, whether it be trespassing, theft, violence, or anything else, you can do so here in your district.” Pointing at a surly, ink-stained fop standing off to my right, I introduce him as their new Mayor, Yanbo. “Though currently living out of a yurt, Mayor Yanbo is the duly appointed representative for district one, and will eventually have a proper office built here in this square.” I wanted one Mayor per block, but literacy is necessary for the position and I could barely scrounge up enough Mayors as it is. Most are extra sons and daughters of noble houses, and Yanbo was actually one of the idiot dandies who used to make fun of me as a cripple. I’m guessing he and many of his comrades were pressured into this job because their families were worried I’d want revenge, but I’m not sure this is the best move. There is massive potential for abuse of power here, but I’m hoping Disciplinary Corps oversight and constant reports will keep Yanbo and his ilk in line. “Bring your grievances to your Mayor, and he will either sort them out himself, or he will take it up with the proper authorities.”
After explaining the basics of law enforcement and how to protect themselves, I add, “Mayor Yanbo is also responsible for tax and payment collection, as well as ensuring everyone adheres to the terms of your contract.” My ominous proclamation sets the crowd to grumbling, so I grin and nod along with their displeasure. “I know, I know, no one likes to pay taxes or follow rules, but they are a necessary evil.” The joke earns me a few laughs and chuckles, so I wait for their mirth to die down before pointing back at the Citadel Walls. “There stands the Central Citadel, where heroes of the Imperial Army stand vigilant to guard against the Defiled threat. Take one step west of the Citadel, and you will be in Enemy territory, where the Father’s foul minions seek to break through our defences in order to run rampant through Central. You have all heard of the Western Province’s tragic fate; I tell you now, if the Defiled break through the Citadel in great enough numbers, then Central will share that fate.”
There are no smiles now, no chuckles or grins, only palpable tension as every person in the crowd comes to grips with what life here on the border really means. There is only silence as I stand before the crowd, making eye contact with those who will meet my gaze. “I say this not to frighten you, but to ensure you understand the truth. This loan is not given freely, nor is your land to be used as you please. My Office loaned out the coin necessary to purchase your lands and bring you here because I see it as an investment, a price to be paid to ensure the safety and well-being of the Empire for years to come. Most of you are farmers, so you will be expected to grow crops on your land, half of which must be seeded with what my Office dictates each season and subsequently put up for sale. For you, this means growing soybeans, for which seeds will be provided to each household later on today, alongside your first week of rations.”
Feeding them is one thing, but it never occurred to me that I couldn’t just let every farmer decide what to grow, because if they grew according to what was most profitable, an overabundance of supply would glut the market and prices would bottom out. Then I’d be left with a bunch of penniless farmers with warehouses of beets or whatever cash crop they can’t sell, which is less than ideal. Lang Yi was the one who suggested this system, as most large-scale farm owners will specialize depending on location. Half the new arrivals are planting soybeans, and the other half rice, because both crops grow quickly and are staples in the average person’s diet.
Truth be told, I’m not entirely sure if this sort of required work is the right thing to do, as it reeks of indentured servitude, but I couldn’t come up with a better solution. What bothers me even more is that not every plot of land is equal, but again, I tried my best. There are a lot of issues I don’t love, like how we marked out where on their fields the landowners were allowed to build their homes, on a shared border with their neighbour and across the path from their other neighbours. Four houses, then two fields, then four houses, that’s how it’ll go while moving north to south from one end of the Wall to the other, because Marshal Yo figured that keeping their homes close together would allow the commoners to keep each other honest, and prevent lone Defiled citizens from escaping scrutiny. Not a terrible idea, but it’s not like each farm is all that big either. I pictured huge tracts of land owned by one family, but it turns out farming by hand is hard work, and people can’t really cover all that much ground without modern machinery.
Having scared the living daylights out of my audience, I extend my wholly inadequate olive branch. “I will not lie to you; there is danger living here on the border, but were it not so, then you all would not have this opportunity to own land. What’s more, I do not intend to leave you undefended. Today, this square sits empty, and I have already promised to build a Mayoral office, but in the future, this square also is where certain tradesmen will ply their trade, surrounded by towering walls which I will build. What’s more, every tenth District will be four times larger than a standard district and be built up into a veritable fort, one which will house a complement of Imperial soldiers as well as more disruptive trades such as smiths, tanneries, and the like.” This was a big part of those extra expenses, but I think my new building material will really cut down on the costs.
This is the Legate’s fault, for going on about using villagers as distractions for the Enemy. If the Defiled break through the Wall or Citadel, the bell-towers should offer the commoners living here plenty of warning. Not enough to run away, even if all the Defiled are on foot, but if they hole up behind locked fortifications with crossbows to defend themselves, then between that and the hour-long travel-time between the Wall and the closest district, there might be enough time for Army reinforcements to arrive and save everyone from certain death.
Which brings me to my next point. “I assume you have all heard my story. I was once a Martial Warrior, but my Core was shattered, and now I am no stronger than any of you. However, this does not mean I am helpless before the Defiled, nor are any of you.” Accepting a crossbow from Kuang Biao, I hold it up for my audience to see. “Defiled Warriors are stronger and tougher than you or I, but they breathe, and they bleed, which means they can be killed. They might shrug off one bolt, or two, perhaps even as many as a dozen, but I stand here before you and see hundreds of able bodied men and women who are just as capable as I, and even the most powerful Defiled will die when peppered with hundreds of bolts.” It is so gratifying to see the crowd straighten up, their eyes burning with courage and hope, and I pray that I am not mistaken. “To this end, I will dispatch soldiers to train you in the use of these crossbows, and those who are deemed capable will be gifted one at the end of training.”
Finally, the crowd cheers and I am left smiling as my people sort them into groups and bring them out to inspect their new lands. I was planning to pay for this with my personal funds, but the Legate was kind enough to allow me to use War Bond monies to pay for it, as well as a yet unannounced stipend to Martial Warriors who care to hold classes to teach commoners the Forms. Of course, this means he gets a cut of the profits, which are considerable since he also insisted we charge much higher than necessary. I suppose he needs the coin for a new Runic Codpiece, as his current one isn’t phallic enough or something, but regardless of his reasons, I find it hard to complain. Not impossible, because I can always complain, but I can put the extra coin to good use outfitting all my wives with Runic armour.
Even Lin-Lin, because why not? Can animals use Runic Armour? Maybe I could get Mama Bun a Runic Helmet with proper spikes she can bash with instead of her nubby little horns...
With my speech done, there’s nothing left for me to do out here in the sticks, so I head back to the Citadel to celebrate a job well done with Marshal Yo. I came here mostly alone, since Luo-Luo is busy overseeing things for the next group of settlers, and Mila and Lin-Lin thought it sounded boring, so for the first time in forever, I have no beloved to keep me company, only my Death Corps guards and Song, who had no choice but to come along, as well as Aurie, Mama Bun, and the bears who I stole away from Lin-Lin.
Honestly, even though I hated having so many guards around me all the time, it was kinda nice when my family followed me around wherever I went, so I suppose I’m feeling a little lonely. Two weeks married and already I’m on a business trip, but such is life, I suppose.
For the next few days, I impose upon Marshal Yo’s hospitality and check in on the various districts during my free time, and I marvel at the ingenuity and hardiness of the common people. When I heard ‘sod house’, I pictured a dirt hovel you could barely even stand in, but after plowing their fields (mostly by hand) and sowing their crops, the families finally start putting together their homes, and it is a sight to behold. They’re called sod houses because it’s not just dirt, but actually sheets of grass which have been pulled up in whole strips like carpet. Although the grass itself has already been harvested, the sheets of dirt are held together by the grass roots, and with careful preparation and a generous application of silt, mud, and clay, form surprisingly stable ‘bricks’ with which they use to build their homes. Most sod houses are built low to the ground, but they go deep underground which provides plenty of cooling in the summer and insulation in the winter. To figuratively and literally top it all off, the farmers cover their sod houses in a layer of dirt and grass which blends the architecture into the surroundings so well it’s possible to walk past the house without ever seeing it.
It’s possible that while travelling through Central, I passed by entire villages without seeing them, because they were so well hidden in the vast tracts of flat land. Some of these families could probably hide in their homes in the event of a Defiled attack, and would stand a decent chance of being overlooked.
After a handful of days, the transformation is startling to behold. Rope fences and stone markers shoot up all across the Central plains, stretching from one end of the horizon out to the other while I stand atop the Eastern gates. Furrows in the grass have been worn away by foot traffic, and the bustling blocks and districts are filled with hope and optimism as these brave people embark on their new lives. What’s more, twenty-thousand down payments have been made and the Legate collected his coin, no doubt off to pay his bribes to whoever he promised them to, though he didn’t say and I didn’t ask. As such, I grow wealthier with each passing day, but the coin is also spent as my people in the Spring and Autumn Consortium buy up the rights to future harvests and lock in a price with these newly settled farmers. A bit of coin today for the right to buy their crops six weeks from now is a pretty good deal in their eyes, and that coin goes right back into my pocket as they buy cloth, tools, livestock, materials, medicines and more from Consortium merchants peddling my wares. In a few days, we’ll start the cycle all over again with forty thousand more Central families, and a week from now, Yuzhen and Marshal Quyen will have delivered their first thirty-thousand settlers, and I will be down in the South welcoming them.
Then, a few days after that, it’ll be my wedding with Yan, which will be awesome. Harem for reals, instead of what feels uncomfortably a lot like cheating on Mila...
No, that’s silly. Mila knows and approves. Stop guilting yourself and focus on your job. Maybe I should hire some locals to teach the foreigners how to build sod houses. Maybe I should even have one built for Taduk, because he loves his underground homes, though I have no idea why. It might have something to do with being half-Cloud Chaser Hare, though I’ll be honest, I have no idea why a sky-jumping hare would live underground.
Giving up on staying focused for the next little bit, I stand upon the Citadel gates and stare out at my work, filled with a strange sense of belonging, one I’ve never experienced since coming to this world. The village accepted me, but not for me, because if it wasn’t for my amber eyes, Baatar probably would have sent me back to the mines. I don’t blame him, because why should he stick his neck out and risk his life for an unaffiliated slave? But this? Out there, on the Central Plains, sits a community I helped plan and put together, filled with people I brought here and helped. They’re here because of me, have land and a livelihood to depend on because of me, and I gotta say, it’s a pretty great feeling.
I, Falling Rain, am finally making a difference in this world, and it feels great.
...Of course, now that I’ve affirmed this, the universe must destroy me. That’s the pattern so far, but maybe this time, things’ll be different.
Well, probably not, but a man can hope...
Chapter Meme