Agricultural Commissioner Decree

"Just a few rumors, nothing more. True Person, you needn't take them to heart."

They say a man's reputation precedes him. As for how I'd heard of you, don't worry about that.

Feng Xiu didn't deny it. He only smiled, about to explain how the fields had cracked from drought and spring planting was proving difficult.

But Daoist Yellow Dragon raised his head solemnly, a glint of earnestness showing beneath his wrinkled eyelids.

"Still, I've heard that Young Master Feng is holding this Sweet Dew Grand Festival to pray for Heaven's blessings and bring down sweet rain."

He paused, then said gravely, "This old Daoist may not have much ability, but if I can truly help and give those common folk a chance to live, I'm willing to try."

Feng Xiu was momentarily taken aback.

He hadn't yet delivered the prepared words, the usual pleasantries about the Daoist's profound cultivation and the people eagerly awaiting him.

He hadn't really expected him to bring rain, but hearing him say this made Feng Xiu think much more highly of him.

Feng Xiu kept smiling. "It's a blessing for the people of Qingyan that you have such a heart, True Person. I'll entrust the rain-praying to you."

Daoist Yellow Dragon hurriedly stood and bowed. "I'm not worthy, I'm not worthy. This old Daoist will do everything in his power."

Just then, a dull thud suddenly sounded beside them.

They both turned toward the sound.

At some point, the little girl in the black hat had crept over to the table. She had a flower cake in one hand and was stuffing it into her mouth, while her other hand trembled as she reached for the teacup.

Her hat was pulled low, hiding her face, but her cheeks were bulging. She'd obviously stuffed them full.

Her arms were too short. She couldn't reach.

She leaned farther forward, and her body tilted.

"Crash!"

The cup fell and shattered, tea splashing across the floor.

Daoist Yellow Dragon's expression changed. He sprang to his feet and scolded her, "Jiaojiao, you—you little rascal!"

The girl hunched her shoulders, looking utterly unconvinced. Her mouth was still stuffed with flower cake, and she mumbled something unintelligible.

"Please don't be angry, True Person, please don't be angry." Feng Xiu hurriedly stood to smooth things over, glancing at the girl.

Her hat hid her face. The only thing he could see was a stretch of fair chin, speckled with crumbs of flower cake.

"Ah, children are always sneaking treats. It's normal." Feng Xiu waved a hand and called toward the door, "Someone!"

A maid answered and came in.

"Take the young lady along and look after her properly. Get her a change of clothes, and bring her some snacks and fruit," Feng Xiu ordered.

The maid nodded, walked over to the girl, and bent down to speak softly. "Miss, please come with me."

The girl glanced at her grandfather, then at Feng Xiu. After finally swallowing what was in her mouth, she muttered, "I'm not full yet."

Daoist Yellow Dragon's eyes widened at that.

But Feng Xiu stopped him. "Go on, go on. Come back after you've eaten your fill."

The girl's eyes lit up, and she followed the maid away.

"Please forgive me, Young Master Feng. I've failed to discipline my granddaughter."

The hall fell quiet again. Daoist Yellow Dragon looked embarrassed and apologized repeatedly.

"You're worrying too much, True Person." Feng Xiu invited him to sit back down. "She's just a child. By the way, is there anything else you need to prepare for the rain-praying?"

Daoist Yellow Dragon collected himself and replied, "This old Daoist needs a three-zhang altar, five-colored flags, a Seven-Star Sword, yellow paper and cinnabar, sandalwood incense and candles, as well as the three sacrificial animals."

"It's all ready, at one of my Feng Clan's courtyards east of the city. If you're concerned, True Person, you can go have a look first."

Feng Xiu listened, then smiled.

Daoist Yellow Dragon was stunned. "It's—it's all ready?"

"It is." Feng Xiu nodded. "The Scripture Troupe of Daoists you'll need has also been arranged. They're just waiting for you to meet with them."

Daoist Yellow Dragon remained stunned for quite a while.

Of all the wealthy families he'd dealt with over the years, which hadn't been arrogant and domineering, ordering people around as they pleased?

This was the first time he'd met someone like Feng Xiu, so courteous and so thorough in handling things.

Daoist Yellow Dragon rose to his feet, his expression solemn. He clasped his hands and bowed. "Young Master Feng cares deeply for the common folk. This old Daoist admires you. I'll do everything in my power to pray to Heaven above and aid the people below!"

"You're too kind, True Person."

Feng Xiu then called in a steward and instructed him to take Daoist Yellow Dragon to the courtyard east of the city, inspect the altar supplies, and meet with the Scripture Troupe.

After Daoist Yellow Dragon left, the hall fell quiet.

Feng Xiu sat back down, lifted his teacup, and took a sip as he continued planning what to do next.

Now that Daoist Yellow Dragon had arrived, it was time to set an official date for the Sweet Dew Grand Festival.

Fan Ling and Lin Che needed to be notified so their two families could prepare. He also needed people to keep an eye on the River Law Bureau and the prefectural government and see how they reacted.

As he turned things over in his mind, Feng Xiu's gaze fell on the little girl's iron hat, which she'd left on the table.

The hat was pitch black and shaped like a broad-brimmed conical hat. Its edges were somewhat worn. It resembled the cymbals used by rural gong-and-drum troupes, but its raised, semicircular center was larger.

"This is so heavy?"

Feng Xiu stepped forward and picked it up.

At once, a weighty heft pressed down on his hand.

Feng Xiu's expression slowly stiffened, and his brow furrowed.

With his current strength, he could lift a stone lock weighing a hundred jin with one hand without breaking a sweat. How could this feel so heavy?

"You've got to be kidding me." Feng Xiu looked astonished.

Had that little girl really been wearing a hat this heavy while sneaking snacks?

"Not some wandering Daoist, a charlatan, or a martial artist who cultivates the Dao?"

The hat Daoist Yellow Dragon wore was much bigger than this one. This little girl couldn't be an ordinary person.

Feng Xiu shook his head and pushed the thought aside.

There were all sorts of remarkable people among the common folk. Perhaps she had her own martial arts inheritance and simply trained in an unusual way.

Just then, footsteps sounded outside the door.

"Young Master." Uncle Zheng's voice rang out as he entered.

Uncle Zheng opened the door and came in with a smile. "The family head is back."

Feng Xiu was taken aback, then stood. "Father's back? Where is he?"

"He just entered the estate. He's resting in the main hall."

Feng Xiu nodded and headed straight out.

At the doorway, he glanced back at the black hat on the table.

"Put this hat away for now," he told Uncle Zheng. "We'll return it to its owner later."

Uncle Zheng acknowledged him and watched Feng Xiu hurry away.

In the main hall, Feng Ao sat in the seat of honor, slowly sipping tea from a bowl. He looked travel-worn, but in good spirits.

"Father." Feng Xiu entered and bowed.

Feng Ao looked up at him, letting his gaze linger for a moment.

Though they'd been apart only a few days, Feng Xiu had grown much darker. His build was robust, and even just standing there, he held his back straight and wore a steady expression.

He was practically a different person from the pale-faced scholar he'd once been.

"Sit." Feng Ao set down his teacup.

Feng Xiu took a seat.

"I've heard everything that's happened in the city," Feng Ao said bluntly. "The Sweet Dew Grand Festival, the three families joining forces, and the whole show of strength to pressure the authorities—were you behind it all?"

"Yes." Feng Xiu nodded.

Feng Xiu then laid out all his suspicions from the past few days, one by one.

The reservoirs remained closed, grain prices had soared, the River Law Bureau was taking an ambiguous stance, and the prefectural government was sitting tight.

All these irregularities pointed to one possibility: someone wanted to take advantage of the severe drought to force the major families to give up their interest in Golden Ear Wheat.

"So I thought, rather than waiting passively, we should take the initiative and build momentum." Feng Xiu spoke crisply. "We'll join forces with the Fan and Lin families and rally public opinion in the name of praying for rain, forcing the prefectural government to state its position."

When Feng Ao finished listening, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

"Not bad," he said, his tone full of approval. "You know how to think things through, how to use others' strength, and how to tie the two families to the same boat. You're better than your father was at your age."

Feng Xiu smiled but didn't respond.

"What about Shou Zhuo? How's that investigation going?"

"I asked Uncle Zhou to look into it. I suspect it was a scheme laid by the Eight Generals of the Thousand Gates, a trap aimed at Shou Zhuo. Uncle Zhou knows a lot of people in the martial world, so we should hear something soon. But he's looking for a place to settle for now, so he hasn't had time."

Feng Shouzhuo was still the same as ever during this time, refusing to eat or drink and ready to die over Su Wantang.

Feng Xiu couldn't do anything about him. Once the truth came out, he figured Shou Zhuo would finally give up.

However, Feng Ao didn't press for details. As long as the Feng Clan's reputation remained intact, everything else was secondary.

He then asked, "How's your martial training going?"

"I've reached the Hall-Entering Realm in Five Force Fist, begun to master the Internal Breath Method, and made a little progress in Body Refining."

Feng Ao's eyes flashed with surprise. He looked Feng Xiu up and down, then burst into laughter.

"Good, good." He said "good" twice, his face full of relief. "Old Zhou has a keen eye and knows how to teach. You haven't wasted your time training."

Feng Xiu's heart stirred. He seized the chance to ask the question he'd been wanting to ask. "Father, the reservoirs are still closed. Is it really as I suspected—that the prefectural government wants to use the drought to force us to abandon our farms?"

Feng Ao's smile faded. After a moment of silence, he slowly nodded.

"Your guess is right."

"While I was out buying grain, I ran into several groups of people along the way." Feng Ao picked up his teacup, his tone calm. "People from the Lin Family, the Zhou Family, and several large and small grain merchants. They're all in the same situation."

Feng Ao paused and turned his gaze toward the window. His voice sank.

"Half a month ago, I also met with people from the River Law Bureau. They spoke beautifully, but everything they said boiled down to one thing: this year, the water in the reservoirs could not be released."

Feng Xiu frowned. "What exactly are they trying to do?"

"What are they trying to do? Make us bow our heads!"

As he spoke, a cold smile touched Feng Ao's lips. He rose and walked to the window.

"Golden Ear Wheat only grows here on the Yunzhou Plateau. Those martial artists in the inland regions need it to train and recover from injuries. In the peaceful years under the Great Liang court, everyone went about their own business, and no one harbored ulterior motives."

"But things are different now. Jin Province has fallen into chaos, and refugees are everywhere. The court can't spare any attention for this region. Some people have started scheming, hoping to use the drought to force us to hand over our farms and tenant villages."

Feng Xiu's heart jolted. He'd already suspected this might be the case.

But hearing it from Feng Ao still made it seem utterly outrageous.

If they were just forcing them to sell grain at low prices, with future Golden Ear Wheat harvests sold only to the Grain Constitution Bureau, that would be one thing.

But now they were asking the grain merchant families to give up the highly profitable farms they depended on for their very livelihood!

To be honest, Feng Xiu found it hard to understand. The grain merchant families in Qingyan Prefecture were no ordinary merchants.

Every major grain merchant held an Agricultural Commissioner Decree issued by the Great Liang Grain Constitution Bureau, ensuring that they paid their grain taxes in full.

The token might not mean much, but it still carried the honorary rank of Subordinate Seventh Rank.

How dare a branch office of the Grain Constitution Bureau tamper with the foundation of all the major grain merchants?

Ruthless, indeed~

At that moment, Feng Ao turned around to look at him, his gaze sharp.

"To put it simply, someone wants to snatch the meat from our bowl."