Broadly speaking, the people of the steppes were fiercer than those of the Central Plains, and the red-haired demons of the far north seemed fiercer still than the steppe folk.
For a long time they had observed a mutual non-aggression, for the steppe people were unmatched on the open grasslands, and the red-haired demons were equally invincible within their forests.
The mountain ranges lying between them made travel in either direction a serious undertaking.
And so all parties had long left one another alone.
Minor friction was inevitable, of course — without it, neither side would have known much about the other at all.
This time, however, the red-haired demons had apparently lost their minds and come surging southward onto the great steppe.
The smaller tribes that had remained behind suffered badly for it.
Word was that the red-haired demons had come in overwhelming force, armed with special weapons, which was precisely why they had been able to send the steppe warriors fleeing with their tails between their legs.
When someone raids your homeland out from under you, that is not something you can simply let pass.
After much deliberation, the two regent-kings resolved to lead fifty thousand troops back to reinforce their people.
As for the Regent-King Mingxin…
Let's not be ridiculous. Yes, I am your regent-king, but the soldiers under my command are not your soldiers — they belong to Longcheng. I have no authority to mobilize them.
And frankly, if you're thinking of asking Longcheng's troops to fight your battles for you, keep dreaming!
The red-haired demons are a hundred thousand li from Longcheng! It's not as if our home is the one being plundered.
If you want Longcheng to join the fight, wait until the red-haired demons come crashing through the passes — then we'll talk.
"Fellow regent-kings, I am truly sorry, but Longcheng is a city of civilization, and we are civilized people. We have no fondness for strife. My recommendation is that you first seek peaceful negotiations with the red-haired demons."
"As you well know, we have always been lovers of peace. We never enter into conflict lightly. We would far rather settle matters through calm and measured dialogue."
You? Peaceful? Civilized? Peaceful negotiations?
Then how exactly did our emperor end up dead?
The other regent-kings had no patience to wrangle with Mingxin — the war was desperately urgent — and so they had no choice but to let the two of them depart with their fifty thousand troops.
Of course, no one goes off to war dragging their family along.
And so Mingxin's days became considerably more comfortable. Back at the residence, he caught himself humming a tune — one the Master had taught him, which he had since made his own.
"The most beautiful flower of the steppe, the milk-white Sarirang, and all the other blossoms and milk tea — if only they'd bathe a little more, that would be even better, but I'll reshape them in time…"
…
Longcheng, the General Staff Office.
"Latest report — a letter from Brother Mingxin says the red-haired demons from the far north have invaded the steppe."
"They're using a new kind of weapon, just like the handheld small cannon the Master had us develop."
"Things are unsettled elsewhere too. White-skinned foreigners have come ashore along the Eastern Sea coast. It seems they've made contact with the Ming Imperial court, though whether any agreement has been reached is unclear."
"What in the world is happening out there? Day after day it's invade this, invade that — can't everyone just settle down and live in peace?"
"First the red-haired demons, now the white-skinned ones — what's next? Green-furred black-skins showing up sometime next week?"
"Stop grumbling. Get the intelligence compiled and laid out for the Master to assess."
A short while later, Mingjing — the fourth one — brought a dossier to the Master, who was in the middle of his afternoon nap.
He waited until the Master woke before presenting it to him.
Mingjing noticed that the Master read through information that left him utterly astonished without the slightest flicker of reaction.
Wasn't the Master surprised? Or had he known all along?
"Is this truly an age of great upheaval?"
"If it is, then this time we shall be the ones who set the standards!"
Zhao Baihui thought for a moment before speaking. "It seems we can no longer afford to be so idle. We must begin reaching outward, taking the initiative to explore what surrounds us. After all, we need not harbor ill intent toward others, but we must never let down our guard."
"Accelerate the cultivation of personnel in that regard, and step up our infiltration of all the various factions."
"Redirect resources toward the shipyards. We may well need more vessels — warships, even."
"Dispatch exploration teams one after another. I want a much fuller understanding of this world."
"Yes, Master."
"One more thing — tell Mingxin to rein himself in! Half of Longcheng already knows about his little affairs!"
"And if he can't manage that — then at least be discreet about it!"
"And should anything happen unexpectedly, send the child back here. We'll raise it."
"Ah — understood, Master. I'll write to Second Brother shortly."
Mingjing put away his pen and notebook and, seeing that the Master had nothing further, took his leave.
…
In the blink of an eye another harvest season had come, and Longcheng gave everyone the day off to go and bring in the grain together.
And so once again it was a joyful autumn outing and harvest festival.
Along the edges of the fields, small vendors had appeared in great numbers — selling water, roasted peanuts, melon seeds — as though this were not a harvest at all, but some wildly popular tourist destination.
By now Longcheng's population had surpassed fifty thousand, and the total number of people under its jurisdiction had broken through the one hundred and fifty thousand mark.
Few county towns could claim a population of fifty thousand within their walls — and that was counting only those actually living inside the town itself.
Prefectural cities of over fifty thousand, by contrast, were common enough.
As for the imperial capital, its population had been approaching one million before the court fled.
Of course, a considerable portion of Longcheng's fifty thousand had been purchased from the imperial government.
The system's assessment period for such people was only three months — they were not criminals, after all.
So once three months had passed, oversight of them was generally relaxed.
Anyone who wished to leave was free to do so; their identity documents had already been changed, and as long as they drew breath, they would remain Longcheng people forever, forever providing their subsidy to Master Zhao.
But after three months of comfortable living in Longcheng, who among them could bring themselves to leave?
In the old days, if someone had told them a person could earn seven or eight taels of silver in a year, they would have spat in that person's face.
If you think that's good money, go earn it yourself! You think you can take me for a fool? Pah!
Now, if someone said the same thing, they would reply: Brother, have you been slacking? Wages just went up again — how are you only pulling in seven or eight hundred a year?
Indeed. By last year's standard, civil servants earned three yuan per day, and an ordinary working man could generally earn around two yuan a day.
Over the course of the year, Jinxiu had loosened the purse strings somewhat, allowing the daily wage for able-bodied laborers to rise to around three yuan.
This brought it roughly in line with the pay of a first-grade civil servant.
It was also laying the groundwork for raising the salaries of government officials.
After the harvest, the new year's government assembly convened.
Jinyi, having recuperated for the better part of a year, had made a full recovery and returned to the front of things.
The Longcheng Government was formally established — the equivalent of a prefectural administration under the imperial system.
The government's designated grade was Level 11.
With Jinyi's promotion, the others naturally rose in rank as well.
Jinwen, Jinyuan, Mingcheng, and the rest were elevated to deputy prefectural rank, with the standard and treatment of Level 10.
The three of them also took on concurrent appointments as district heads of the Longzhong, Longdong, and Longxi Districts respectively, charged with overseeing the construction of the new urban zones.
A fourth district, Longnan, was also launched simultaneously — but that one lay across the river, on territory nominally belonging to the Ming Imperial court.
Construction would proceed there all the same. The court hardly dared say a word about it. The appointed head of Longnan District was Lin Yunxuan, newly transferred to the post.
Longcheng was going to be built faster than ever.
New salary standards were announced as well: first-grade civil servants' daily pay was raised to four yuan.
Monthly earnings had now crossed the hundred-yuan threshold.
Jinyi, drawing a Level 11 salary, earned seven and a half times the ordinary person's wage — thirty yuan a day.
Master Zhao noted that his own subsidy amounted to a mere ten yuan, meaning he was losing twenty yuan a day to the arrangement — a loss that went all the way to his grandmother's house!
The subsidy for primary school education remained unchanged at five jiao.
Food prices had come down from before — five jiao could now get you a hint of meat at a quick-service restaurant.
If you cooked for yourself, eating your fill every day was no problem at all.
What more could one ask for?
Zhao Baihui held firm on this: social welfare was a good thing, but social welfare must not be too generous.
Social welfare existed primarily to help those in genuine hardship — to give people enough to survive.
As long as a person was alive, there was hope.
To raise benefits to the point where they approached wages — what was the purpose of that? To encourage everyone to stay home and sleep all day?
If some people stopped working, others would have to work twice as hard to make up for it.
That was not fair.