Wang Yan never shortchanged those who followed him, much less those who had rendered meritorious service.
Thirty able-bodied adult men were practically the bulk of Wang Family Village's manpower. If they had all died outside, the village's productive capacity would have plummeted off a cliff.
Thus, after returning to the village, Wang Yan arranged for meat, cloth, oil, and salt to be delivered to every household. For the two families whose men had died in battle, he directly had new houses built. For those who had been seriously injured and survived but had essentially lost their ability to work, only capable of light tasks, Wang Yan had the steward Wang Fuli lead an ox over from the household, along with a large pile of fodder.
Beyond that, he announced plans to expand the village school and establish a mill in the village for rough grain processing.
That was why primitive accumulation was always bloody—without bloodshed, there was no sudden wealth. This one raid had brought back enough to transform Wang Family Village from top to bottom. But clearly, he could not do that. After all, there was a great difference between simply handing money to the villagers to make them wealthy and leading them to work together toward prosperity. One concerned the villagers' cohesion, while the other concerned their lasting prosperity.
Wang Fuli had just returned from delivering the ox when he saw the young master, fresh from a bath, lazily lying in the courtyard to bask in the sun and dry his hair. He was still outrageously indecent, wearing only a pair of oversized shorts altered by one of the old women in the household. Tea sat at his side, while Little Pillar sat nearby on a small stool, holding a book and reading aloud. It was utterly comfortable.