Chapter 207: Headman

Chapter 207: The Headman

Lychees ripen in June, so canned lychee wasn’t happening this year. However, Xiwu wasn’t limited to just lychees; there were many varieties of citrus in Lingnan, and canning oranges could be a solid move.

"Old Fan, I’m gonna need to lean on you and your two top apprentices from now on," Meng Wan said politely to the elderly craftsman before him.

The Crown Prince was very generous. Meng Wan had only asked for two apprentices, but the Crown Prince sent over an old master craftsman from the Guanyu Bureau.

Old Fan felt flattered. "You flatter me, Mister Meng. I hear you’ve got a guy who uses tree resin to seal jars—now that’s a real master."

Feng Zhong was tinkering with his tree resin nearby and almost grinned from ear to ear at Old Fan’s words. He was rough around the edges, pretty casual with Song Tingzhou or Meng Wan, speaking his mind freely. His one weakness was he loved being flattered. Meng Wan had basically talked him into sticking around, along with his master and uncles.

Old Fan worked in the capital and was up there in years, much like Old Xu, who remained at the gray powder workshop in Heshan. Both had seen it all and knew the ins and outs of people. Old Fan had real savvy, and with a single sentence, he had Feng Zhong eating out of his hand even though they’d just met.

The glass workshop went up right next to Feng Zhong’s rubber setup, and Meng Wan had already arranged everything. Workers for both places and villagers to tap rubber were all lined up.

The upfront cost wasn’t as big as when they’d set up the sugar workshop, but it was a grind. Every step needed a solid manager to keep an eye on things.

Then came the food canning factory, which was larger than both the glass and rubber workshops. The three workshops sprang up with a lot of buzz.

Watching Meng Wan hustle all over the place, the officials’ wives and husbands—always scheming to test him or suck up—shut their mouths.

A few made snide remarks with vague aim, "Is Lord Song’s family broke? Making his husband chase every dime?"

But most people, even if they didn’t understand the significance of the three workshops, learned from their husbands that running three workshops on his own was a remarkable feat.

Lingnan had always been impoverished. Even the Tan and Yu families, who started as dye workshops in the city, were considered influential in Xiwu, and officials dared not provoke them easily. For Meng Wan to directly provide livelihoods for hundreds of commoners was basically a political gift handed to them on a silver platter.

For a while, Song Tingzhou’s colleagues and staff at the yamen were green with envy and dying of curiosity. They wouldn’t dare joke to his face, but they whispered behind his back, "Is Lord Song climbing the ladder so fast because of his husband?"

Nobody had the guts to ask Song Tingzhou outright—they’d have seen he wasn’t mad, he was proud of it.

"Why’re you heading out now?" Chang Jinhua led A Yan into Song Tingzhou and Meng Wan’s room, watching Meng Wan and Huang Ye pack their clothes.

Meng Wan took a rabbit wool blanket and stuffed it into a bamboo case. "We’d struck a deal on the Murcott oranges, but after they took the deposit, they backed out. I’m gonna check what’s up."

Chang Jinhua looked worried. "You gonna make it back before New Year’s?"

"Of course." Once it was all packed, Meng Wan stood up, scooped up his son, and sat on the low couch to talk with Chang Jinhua. "It’s not far from the city—five days, tops."

Song Tingzhou came back from his lunch break and caught the last bit of the conversation as he pushed the door open. "Five days? You headed to Zhuang Village?"

A flicker of surprise crossed Meng Wan’s eyes. "How did you know?"

Song Tingzhou smiled and handed a document to Meng Wan. "Funny thing, I need to check the rolls at three mountain villages under Xiwu Prefecture too. So I’ll hit Zhuang Village with you first."

This kind of minor task could have been assigned to a minor clerk, but Song Tingzhou, new to Xiwu, wanted to learn more about local livelihoods. He put himself in for the job. Prefect Zeng, who basically did whatever Song Tingzhou said, agreed on the spot.

Neither he nor Meng Wan was the chatty type. They stuffed their bags at home in half a day and set out early the next morning, with Xue Sheng driving the cart to see them off.

Song Tingzhou brought about a dozen yamen runners and clerks. Tao Ba, Tao Shi, and Tao Shiyi from the Tao family—each had his own strengths. They had accompanied him to the capital and were now his trusted guys in Xiwu.

Meng Wan only took Xue Sheng and Chu Ci. Huang Ye stayed to run the house and could help Chang Jinhua with A Yan. Before leaving, A Xun heard they were going to Zhuang Village and asked to join, hoping to gather some rare herbs there.

Xiwu Prefecture had four counties and three villages—but these weren’t just three little stockades; they were where the Zhuang, Yao, and Miao peoples lived.

Among them, the Miao were the smallest group and lived the farthest out, mostly in remote spots.

The Yao were the most spread out of the three. Dozens or hundreds of clansmen could form a stockade, built along the mountains. The Yao relied on hunting for a living, so they usually didn’t gather together, as resources would be insufficient.

The Zhuang, the biggest group, were the opposite of the Yao. Almost all their clansmen in Xiwu Prefecture gathered together, forming a large mountain village composed of dozens of small stockades.

It was run by the most senior tribal elder, and each small stockade had its own strongest and wisest headman.

Zhuang Village bordered Heiye County and Xiwu City, and the roads were fairly flat. When they set out, there were even peddlers from the county carrying goods on shoulder poles to the village, showing that it normally had contact with the outside world.

To fish for info, Meng Wan offered the peddler a lift. "Hey, brother, we’re headed to Zhuang Village too. Hop on, we’ll give you a ride."

The peddler was in his forties, wearing a thin cotton-padded jacket, his face dark, his shoulders slightly stooped from years of carrying heavy loads. He hunched his back, his eyes darting left and right as he assessed Meng Wan’s group. Some rode horses, others rode in carts; it was clearly no ordinary household.

"Are you from the Tan family?"

Meng Wan had Xue Sheng stop the cart in front of him and asked with interest, "How did you know we were from the Tan family?"

Hearing the hint of confirmation in Meng Wan’s words, the peddler let down his guard. With Tao Ba’s help, he loaded his two baskets of goods onto the rear cart and climbed aboard himself.

"Everyone around here knows that Master Tan came from Zhuang Village. Your cloth shop’s clerks often come to collect cloth. On holidays, Master Tan himself returns. I once met him too; he gave me a ride, just like you."

The cart began to move slowly, Meng Wan’s voice mingling with the sound of the wheels. "Yes, we’re here to collect goods."

The peddler was talkative. "Zhuang Village weaves excellent cloth, but they only sell it to you Tans. Say, why did your family send a young gentleman like you to collect cloth?" The Tan family had many cloth shops in towns and counties, and the clerks who came to Zhuang Village were not always the same.

Meng Wan didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled aside the entire carriage curtain, revealing Song Tingzhou sitting upright inside. His gaze was cold, his presence imposing; he looked formidable.

The peddler choked back his words and clammed up right away.

Seeing that he had stopped talking, Meng Wan sat back inside. Chu Ci, A Xun, and Chief Clerk Qiao were in the rear carriage. With no one else in the carriage, Meng Wan simply leaned against Song Tingzhou, who half-embraced him as they talked.

"Master Tan is a Zhuang native. I didn’t expect that."

Song Tingzhou put the hand warmer he had been holding back into Meng Wan’s hands. "First time I’ve heard of it too. These mountain villagers are extremely exclusive, with the Miao Village being the worst. The Zhuang Village, being closer to Han settlements, is a little better." In previous years, the registration inspections hadn’t gone smoothly. The petty clerks sent were perfunctory, and the records were vague, which was why he had come personally this time.

Song Tingzhou now wanted to integrate Xiwu’s education and build roads throughout the prefecture. Neither could bypass the three villages. The villages had long lived in isolation, maintaining their own systems, keeping Han Chinese separate and refusing to obey Han officials’ governance. If laws and regulations weren’t maintained, it would eventually become a disaster.

Meng Wan toyed with the colorful cord knot made by Zhu Yan on the hand warmer, feeling the gentle warmth spread from his palm to his body. "A few months ago, when Tang Jinshuang was buying oranges in Heiye County, people from Zhuang Village approached her to sell. They were supposed to deliver after the New Year, but when my factory staff contacted them, they reneged."

Song Tingzhou wrapped his arms around him from behind, pulling up the slipping blanket. "Do you know which family it was?"

The sky was overcast, and the cold wind seemed to seep into every corner. Meng Wan curled up in the blanket. "They said it was the family from the Citrus Stockade, a man named Dalun."

By the time they met the peddler, they were already quite close to Zhuang Village. After another hour’s travel, they could see the outermost gate of the Hibiscus Stockade.

The village gate was made of tightly bound bamboo rafts, and the village walls were built of uniformly sized stones. The stone walls on both sides of the gate had "battlements" and arrow slits, and inside there seemed to be patrol paths for mutual reinforcement during defense.

Hibiscus Stockade was at the very edge of the entire Zhuang Village, forming a semi-encirclement that guarded the whole Zhuang community. In fact, the people of Hibiscus Stockade were the bravest and strongest in the entire Zhuang Village.

The two Zhuang guards at the gate quickly spotted them. They wore dark blue homespun cotton jackets with sheepskin at the collars and cuffs, wool hats on their heads, and shoes stuffed with cotton and flax padding. Each held a matchlock gun and shouted, "*, "

Meng Wan, sitting in the cart: "... Damn! I made a mistake—forgot to bring an interpreter!"

"They’re asking who we are and what we’re doing here," Song Tingzhou said, seeing his impatience and suddenly translating.

"You learned the Zhuang language?" Meng Wan was both surprised and delighted.

Song Tingzhou smiled back at him. "I guessed last year that I might still be stationed in Xiwu, so I started learning bit by bit. Not very good, but enough for everyday communication."

Meng Wan couldn’t help but turn around, wrap his arms around his neck, and plant a firm kiss on his lips. "My Zhou Lang is amazing!"

Song Tingzhou looked into his sparkling eyes and suddenly felt he should learn even more about the world.

Outside, Tao Ba had already showed his badge and explained their purpose, not caring if they understood or not.

The peddler who had just gotten off the cart was Han Chinese, so he naturally understood their words. "No, didn't that guy just say you were with the Tan family? How did you become officials handling government affairs?"

Meng Wan jumped down from the carriage and blew him off. "Bro, I'm not with the Tan family, but I am indeed planning to cooperate with them."

"Ah?" The peddler was confused, but as his eyes swept over Song Tingzhou, who had also gotten off the carriage, his doubts instantly vanished. He shouldered his goods and prepared to enter the stockade.

Clearly, he was a frequent visitor here, and the guards knew him, so they let him in and out easily. But for them, the treatment was different.

Song Tingzhou went down to negotiate in person, but those people couldn't read a note and wouldn't listen to reason. No matter what official or assistant prefect he claimed to be, they flat-out refused to let them in.

Sure, they had enough people to just barge in, but Song Tingzhou was here for a census, and Meng Wan was here for business. The Zhuang people were already xenophobic. Both of them would still need to deal with the Zhuang stockade people later, so they couldn't piss them off just yet.

"Xue Sheng, go fetch that peddler back." Meng Wan narrowed his eyes and ordered.

Xue Sheng might not be a top-tier martial artist, but he was quick on his feet. Before anyone present could react, he vaulted over their heads, grabbed the peddler who hadn't gone far, and retreated.

"Hey, mister, what are you doing?" The peddler was annoyed, wishing he hadn't hitched a ride with them.

Meng Wan grinned, "Bro, please do us a favor. Tell them we're from West Wu Prefecture, and my husband could crush the Tan family without breaking a sweat. Tell them to let us in out of consideration for the Tan family, or don't blame us if we take it out on somebody else."

He spoke in an extremely gentle tone, but his words made your skin crawl. If Song Tingzhou had said it, it might not have worked and would only have raised suspicion. But when the peddler repeated it in a shaky voice, it actually sounded convincing.

The two Zhuang men exchanged glances and were silent for a long time. Finally, they laid down their spears and let them into the stockade.

Although they let them in, one of the two stuck to them like glue, while the other called two more clansmen to guard the gate and went himself to find their stockade's headman.

Meng Wan decided not to move and waited right there for the headman of the Wood Hibiscus Stockade to arrive, while also enjoying the scenery of the stockade.

The central part of the stockade was a large open area, while the edges were lined with stilted wooden houses, all built of wood, with bamboo used in some places.

Unlike the northern region where each household had its own courtyard, these wooden houses were tightly connected, one after another, with the eaves spaced no more than two meters apart.

Meng Wan approached the nearest wooden house. It was rectangular in shape, three stories high, with the ground floor raised on wooden pillars, making it look as if it were suspended in the air.

The roof was a gabled roof with a steep slope, and there were two small eaves at each end, probably for ventilation and lighting.

The doors and windows were carved with wood carvings—flowers, birds, landscapes, figures, etc. They were simple yet exquisite, giving a contradictory sense of beauty.

The Zhuang man beside him had been watching Meng Wan warily, afraid he might do something bad, but as he watched, he suddenly felt a bit embarrassed. With a slightly reddened face, he turned his gaze to Song Tingzhou, only to find that the other man's expression was even grimmer, leaving the Zhuang man baffled.

"Are you officials from the prefectural city?"

A voice called out in broken Chinese from deep within the stockade, followed by a dozen or so vigilant Zhuang people. In the center, a burly man, whose thin cotton coat couldn't contain his bulging muscles, with a neck thicker than average—that must be the headman of the Wood Hibiscus Stockade.