While the Edson and Monla tribes were in unrest, you’d wonder what our dearly beloved protagonist would be doing right about now.
Well, he was peering down at the refugee camp from the closest hill.
Wang Daniu handled the refugees who were delegated to cutting down trees and building houses nearby the hill. They would serve as their housing which made the refugees put their elbows into it. It was in their best interest to make sturdy roofs over their heads.
From uphill, everyone looked like ants busying themselves about building their little nest. This scene had Zhong Yu’s mind wandering.
With the inflow of refugees, his domain strengthened and his foundation became sturdy. ‘I just have to think long term as I develop, keeping my head low. When the time comes, I will bare my fangs, making these plains for hundreds of km shake under my power.’
Li Dazhuang was but a humble farmer, with his face to the ground and back to the sky, working the field. Tending to the crops every day,only to give his harvest to those leeching lords every year as rent, then to the dynasty as taxes. Working year in year out, he was left with but one or two tenths, forced to go into the woods to scrounge up herbs to fill his stomach.
One year, a flood came and took his earthen home away, ruining his chance to pay the lord. Then came the dynasty’s tax collector, taking everything he had left, including his twelve-year-old daughter as an indentured slave.
This was how the destitute and homeless Li Dazhuang earned the honor of becoming a refugee drifting from one place to another, scrounging up for the seldom meals he had.
Three years he stumbled like this, seeing a fair share of companions collapse on the way, whilst others drove him away. He wandered and wandered until he one day found himself back home, only to see it unchanged.
His house was a wreck still, with no sight of people in 50 km. Some said there was even a war here, with the losing side turning to banditry as they ruined these wretched lands even further.
These bandits would kill anyone on sight for plunder and loot, until there was no one left, from either overkilling or fleeing.
The survivors hid in the mountains and woods, struggling to even find a root to eat and pass the day.
Li Dazhuang spent a few days with them, only to find these starved people’s living conditions worse than his own as they all had sunken cheeks, skin and bones. Compared to him, who actually had a pound or more on them.
As days passed, herbs and the animals thinned, making the villagers resort to killing and cannibalism. So Li Dazhuang left the mountains in search of a new way to carry on his meager existence.
In this way, Li Dazhuang found himself newly adrift and soon arriving here after leaving his old home once more. ‘What am I doing here? I just put my head down for a second.’
Li Dazhuang was too malnourished to even ponder this question, resorting to trying his chance in living in this strange new place.
While the lord here was far crueler,he was unlike those other greedy two-faced hypocrites who smiled while looking down on others and would betray them on a whim. Yet he still couldn’t tell if this place would be any better.
Zhong Yu had been harsh on them, treating them like soldiers. As he gathered them and made them handle any work as a whole group.
It didn’t look as if there was any room for freedom, but the least they had was a full stomach, a roof over their heads and warm clothes. Was this not any difference from peaceful times?
Compared to those days as drifters, worrying about their next meal, fleeing from bandits or crazed cannibals, they were living in paradise.
Starved from his weary life so far, his companions were no different as they all were thinking how were they to pay back the lord’s infinite grace.
Li Dazhuang’s thoughts aside, in chaotic times, who’d ever had the mind to care for a nobody?
After a few days of work, a thousand houses sprouted to the south of the city, neatly arranged on flat land. Watching them laid down in such an order brought a sense of beauty.
This was preparation for the increasing population, since there was the manpower he might as well get it all ready in one go.
‘South isn’t so bad.’ Zhong Yu split the area in districts, south, north, east and west.
North District held the residences of the officials and their families. East District was the trade avenue, a place to conduct business.
Western District, a place for nobles and those with special abilities.
Southern District, commoners’ quarters. Living area for normal people.
As for the Central District, it was occupied by Zhong Yu’s seat of power. A place where the matters of the cities were handled, and a control hub for 50 km around it was exercised.
Zhong Yu had planned for a ten meter wide paved boulevard running between the districts like a cross, and converging it on the Central District. This was so there was enough space for the carriages and the people.
Thus the districts had clear limits from the governmental buildings and each other.
In Zhong Yu’s plan, this city would be the heart of economy and power in 50 km, housing 8000 to 10000 people.
With the houses built, Zhong Yu had Wang Daniu re-purpose the refugees for another project.
The priority now was the buildings in the North District, for the officials and their families. These weren’t rushed since the lands around the city were still savage and the economy of the domain was budding.
So while the refugees were working on making the city great, Zhong Yu called the soldiers in secret for a lecture. He told them to be ready at a moment’s notice and swiftly respond at his order when war was upon them.
Meanwhile, five km from Zhong Yu’s city, Denel and Anderson’s tribes gathered their warriors while handing them weapons amassed over decades. Here and there, they’d also be standing on the altar, preaching to warriors and asking the shaman to commune with their ancestral spirit.
The fog of war was lifted as the dawn of battle over the hegemony of10 km around was about to start. Who would be the one to come out on top?
