Han Ji

Chapter 139 Each Displays Their Unique Abilities

"The old rules have been changed." Guan Yu walked back to the command platform. "From today onwards, wounded and discharged soldiers will receive between one thousand and five thousand coins, depending on the severity of their injuries. Those who die in battle will receive a pension of ten thousand coins."

The veterans in the audience suddenly looked up.

Guan Yu continued, "But these people can no longer occupy military positions and receive salaries without working. Starting today, they will all be laid off."

The veterans turned pale.

"However—" Guan Yu raised his voice, "those who wish to stay can be transferred to auxiliary troops, responsible for transportation, repairing weapons, and raising horses, with their pay halved. Those who do not wish to stay will receive severance pay, calculated based on years of service, at one hundred coins per year."

The lame old soldier asked in a trembling voice, "General... can I, with this leg, serve as an auxiliary soldier?"

"Yes," Guan Yu said, looking at him. "The stable needs someone to feed the horses. Do you want to go?"

"Go! Go!" The old soldier knelt down. "Thank you, General! Thank you, General!"

After dealing with the elderly and infirm, Guan Yu looked at the remaining county soldiers.

"You," he said, scanning the crowd, "from today onwards, your pay will increase by 30%, but your training will triple. You will be on duty at 5:00 AM, training will begin at 7:00 AM, and will not end until 5:00 PM. You will have one day off every ten days."

He paused: "Those who slack off will have to practice more. Those who don't listen will be punished according to military law. But those who practice well will be rewarded. Those who perform meritorious service will be promoted."

After saying that, he raised his hand.

The guards carried in three wooden boxes and opened them. The first box contained copper coins, neatly strung together; the second box contained cloth; the third box contained... several human heads.

"These three," Guan Yu pointed to the heads, "are the three squad leaders who were embezzling pay last month. It was discovered that they falsely reported 37 soldiers and fraudulently received 190,000 taels of silver. According to military law, they are to be executed."

The county soldiers were terrified and fell silent.

"The money is here." Guan Yu kicked the money box. "What's rightfully yours will be yours, not a penny less. What you shouldn't have taken, not a penny more, will be your head."

He turned and stepped off the stage: "That's all for today. Tomorrow at dawn, I want to see everyone standing here."

Chen Lu followed behind him and asked in a low voice, "Commander, the pay is increased by 30%... What about the prefectural government..."

"Brother has approved it." Guan Yu continued walking. "The money will come from the spoils of bandit suppression. You have to be willing to invest in raising soldiers so that they will be willing to risk their lives for you."

He stopped at the camp gate and looked back at the drill ground.

The snow was still falling, and gradually getting heavier. The older soldiers helped each other walk toward the stables, while the younger ones were packing up their equipment.

"Lawyer Chen."

"exist."

"Among those three hundred old and weak people, select some who are literate and skilled, and form them into a separate team. They can be used for road repair, city construction, and weapon manufacturing."

"clear."

Guan Yu mounted his horse and headed towards Yanjing—Zhang Fei was taking office today, and he had to go and see him.

In Mianyang Salt Wells, Zhang Fei arrived earlier than the sun.

When he arrived, the salt workers had just gotten up and were eating their mixed bread with cold water. When they saw the towering general arrive with his troops, they were all terrified and dropped their bread on the ground, too afraid to pick it up.

Zhang Fei dismounted, picked up the cake, dusted it off, and stuffed it back into the salt worker's hand.

"Eat!" he roared. "Eat and then get back to work!"

The salt workers shivered as they ate their flatbreads. Zhang Fei walked to the well, touched the brine pool; the water was still warm. He turned to the overseer and asked, "How much salt do you usually get at this time?"

The foreman, a fat man surnamed Gou, originally from Su Gu, was now sweating profusely: "Reporting to the General, normally... fifty shi (a unit of dry measure) per day."

"Too slow." Zhang Fei waved his hand. "From today onwards, the daily workday will be reduced by one hour, and a one-hour rest will be taken at noon. But the daily output of salt must not be less than sixty shi (a unit of dry measure).

Supervisor Gou's eyes widened: "General, this...this won't do..."

"Why not?" Zhang Fei glared at him. "Salt workers are human beings, not animals! They need to eat and rest well to have the strength to work!"

He walked into the salt workers' pile and casually pulled a boy over. The boy was fourteen or fifteen years old, as thin as a stick.

How old are you?

"Ten, fifteen..."

"How many years have you been working here?"

"Three years..."

Zhang Fei frowned and looked at Supervisor Gou: "Child laborers going down the well?"

"General, his father is dead, his mother is ill, and he came voluntarily..."

"Voluntary my ass!" Zhang Fei kicked the foreman Gou. "From today onwards, no one under the age of sixteen or over the age of fifty is allowed to go down the well. Those already working in the well will be sent to dry salt and bag it, and their wages will be paid as usual."

The boy's tears streamed down his face.

Zhang Fei patted him on the shoulder: "Why are you crying? Go on, they're cooking porridge over there. After you've eaten, go dry the salt."

He turned to the salt workers and said, "Listen up! From today onwards, your monthly wages will increase by 100! You will eat three meals a day, two dry and one wet! A bathhouse and a medicine shed will be set up above the well, and the injured and sick will receive immediate treatment while your wages are paid as usual!"

The salt workers were stunned. Some pinched their thighs.

"But!" Zhang Fei roared, "The salt production must not be reduced by a single bushel! Anyone who slacks off or causes trouble will be personally punished!"

He looked at Supervisor Gou: "Your monthly wage will also increase by a hundred. But if you deduct wages again or beat or scold the salt workers—" He drew his eighteen-foot spear and slammed it on the ground, "This spear will not spare you."

Supervisor Gou collapsed to the ground.

At noon that day, the salt workers were indeed able to eat dry rice. It was millet rice, and there were bits of meat in the stew. The boy held his bowl, eating and crying at the same time.

Zhang Fei squatted down next to him, shoveling food into his mouth: "Why are you crying? Eat more if it's delicious."

"General..." the boy choked back tears, "My...my mother has never eaten meat before..."

Zhang Fei stopped eating. He stood up and yelled at the cook, "Cook another pot! Have the salt workers take it home!"

He kicked Supervisor Gou again: "Remember! From now on, on the first day of each month, a pig will be slaughtered at the well. Everyone gets a pound of meat to take home!"

The news spread like wildfire throughout the salt wells. In the afternoon, the salt workers worked like madmen, drawing brine, boiling salt, and bagging it, their pace doubling. Before sunset, the daily output was counted: sixty-five shi (a unit of dry measure) of salt.

Zhang Fei grinned.

Yang Song arrived in the evening, wiping sweat from his brow as he looked at the accounts: "General Zhang, adding money and meat... the cost is too high!"

"Higher?" Zhang Fei glanced at him sideways. "Yang, the Registrar, you do the math: Salt workers used to work six hours a day and produce fifty shi (a unit of dry measure). Now they work five hours and produce sixty-five shi. Which is more profitable?"

Yang Song froze as he worked on his abacus.

"Humans aren't livestock." Zhang Fei patted him on the shoulder. "If you treat people well, they'll treat you well, and naturally, you'll do your job well. It's not hard to figure that out."

Yang Song chuckled awkwardly, "General, you are brilliant, truly brilliant..."

That night, Zhang Fei stayed at Yanjing. He couldn't sleep, so he got up to patrol and saw the boy squatting by the stove, mending clothes by the firelight.

"What are you doing?"

The boy was startled: "General... I'll mend my clothes and wear them tomorrow."

Zhang Fei sat down, picked up the clothes and looked at them; they were so torn they couldn't be mended. He took off his outer robe and threw it to the boy.

"Wear this."

"General, this is unacceptable..."

"Wear it when I tell you to!" Zhang Fei glared. "Tomorrow I'll have someone send some cloth over, and everyone will have a new set of clothes made. The salt workers are dressed in rags; it's a disgrace to me!"

The boy hugged his robe and cried again.

Zhang Fei scratched his head: "Crying, crying, all you do is cry! A real man sheds blood, not tears!"

As he said this, his own eyes were a little red.

He got up and looked at the endless salt wells in the night.

The brine pool reflected the moonlight, appearing as a dazzling white expanse.

"Damn it," he muttered, "we should have done this a long time ago."