Iron Dynasty Chapter 3: Even the Landlord’s House Has No Surplus Grain

“Your Highness, you’ve just recovered from a serious illness—you should be resting in bed.”

Hurried footsteps echoed closer. Xiao Ming glanced upward and noticed an old man featuring a plump face and wide ears, attired in a blue robe with a round collar, rushing in his direction. The elder offered a deep bow before he uttered a word.

He was Qian Dafu, the manager of the prince’s manor. In truth, he oversaw almost every matter in the household.

Xiao Ming placed full faith in Qian Dafu. Prior to his dispatch to the domain, Qian Dafu served as Consort Zhen’s most reliable protector. She dispatched him alongside Xiao Ming to ensure a dependable ally remained near.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Xiao Ming gestured casually with his hand. “Get a carriage ready. I intend to head into Qingzhou City.”

“This…” Qian Dafu paused, yet he recognized his lord’s persistent and fiery nature. Unwilling to defy, he summoned attendants to prepare the vehicle.

By the primary entrance of the manor, a rather dilapidated carriage stood prepared. The cart was compact, essentially a wooden crate mounted on wheels.

It appeared pathetically modest for a noble of his rank, though Xiao Ming grasped this as the utmost the manor’s funds could provide.

His domain included six regions: Qingzhou, home to the Grand Governor’s Office, Laizhou and Dengzhou on the eastern promontory, Yizhou southward, Cangzhou northward, and Yanzhou westward.

In documents, six areas looked substantial, but actually, his holdings were rather modest. By contrast, the Fifth Prince, Xiao Quan, controlled sixteen territories in Shu. Xiao Ming seemed like a destitute cultivator beside him. Worse still, none among his six regions prospered.

Under Da Yu’s system, Upper Regions matched today’s directly governed cities, Middle Regions resembled provincial hubs, while Lower Regions were akin to district settlements.

Among his six, solely Qingzhou qualified as a “Middle Region”—the others all fell into “Lower Regions.”

Cangzhou’s plight stood out as especially grim. Annually, nomads from the northern steppes invaded the territory.

Three years prior, their horsemen had ravaged straight to Dengzhou prior to withdrawing.

With farmers too destitute and terrified to till the soil, collections from taxes were miserably low.

Nevertheless, Xiao Ming maintained troops and administrators to sustain—his domain’s economic state loomed dismal.

Even the former Xiao Ming, though impulsive, comprehended the hardships of his lands.

Without sporadic funds from Consort Zhen, he would have perished from want ages ago.

As the cart departed the prince’s manor, it progressed leisurely through Qingzhou City’s avenues. Xiao Ming parted the drapes, scrutinizing his realm with caution.

The urban area stretched 20 li (10 km) from north to south and 20 li from east to west. It possessed four entrances and split into 36 living quarters (坊区).

On the eastern and western flanks lay two trading zones: East Market and West Market.

The living quarters mirrored contemporary neighborhoods—each bounded by barriers, with dwellings dispersed within, all standardized in scale, like neatly arranged tofu cubes.

While his cart traversed one such quarter, three youths lounging under the sun abruptly fled, vanishing indoors.

“Prince Qi is coming! Run! Run!”

Xiao Ming offered a wry grin—evidently, these were victims of his earlier self’s torments.

Still, his attention fixed not on their panic—but on their ragged, mended garments. Through a contemporary lens, these ordinary folk resembled destitute wanderers.

Arriving at East Market, Xiao Ming alighted from the cart and wandered into the marketplace. Qian Dafu hastened behind, his gaze sweeping vigilantly for threats.

East Market and West Market paralleled today’s produce bazaars. However, while traversing East Market, Xiao Ming discovered scant wares on offer.

Most vendors displayed merely wheat, soybeans, millet, earthenware, cloth, and plaited containers. Beside the vibrant stalls of Chang’an, this seemed woefully sparse.

Following his tour of East Market, Xiao Ming proceeded to West Market—no variation there. In sum, Qingzhou City suffered profound commercial ruin.

And this represented the richest hub across his whole domain.

Having devoted the full morning to exploring the city, Xiao Ming’s belly rumbled.

The moment had come to head back for a noon repast.

“Your Highness, this lowly one has specially readied vinegar-stirred celery and steamed plain buns for you!”

After fasting through the morning, Xiao Ming at last ate. From his absorbed recollections, this qualified as an opulent feast.

Qian Dafu fidgeted his palms in anticipation, his throat visibly moving as he eyed the dishes with longing. Such was the truth of his territory—acute scarcity of provisions.

It went beyond funds—even with coin, purchases proved impossible. Merely filling one’s stomach counted as fortune. Partaking in such fare sporadically passed, but daily endurance proved torturous.

Though bearing the rank of prince, his existence lagged behind a modern laborer’s.

When famished, options limited to boiled amaranth or boiled greens—no fats available for sautéing.

Today’s vinegar-stirred celery marked a scarce indulgence, hence Qian Dafu’s boastful unveiling as if it were a gem.

“How rare, how rare,” Xiao Ming mustered a grin, chewing the steamed bun and celery amid misty eyes.

In the former era, vinegar-stirred celery ranked among his loathed foods. Now, it symbolized extravagance.

He once believed crossing worlds promised ease—but even a landowner’s home lacked extra stores.

In the ensuing three days, Xiao Ming surveyed various nearby county seats around Qingzhou. The scenes proved even more dismal—most settlements featured mere earthen barriers encircling sparse thatched shacks.

The rural folk clung to bare subsistence, with famine widespread. Relative to them, his circumstances already verged on splendor, with steamed buns on the table.

Upon the paths, he frequently witnessed locals foraging wild greens against starvation.

In a single evening, he had entered Da Yu, harboring no lofty dreams. Yet beholding his domain in such wretched decay, surpassing even present-day ghettos in misery, ignited fury.

During studies, his preferred pursuits involved realm-expansion games—beholding desolate expanses bloom into bustling metropolises brought profound joy.

Presently, a genuine domain lay under his charge—and it lay in ruins. How could he abide this?

Moreover, entrenched noble clans operated freely, while northern raiders menaced ceaselessly.

Expelling the raiders remained beyond reach for the moment, but nurturing the soil, strengthening fortifications, drilling forces, and enriching the populace—that lay within grasp.

If not to topple the nobles, then at minimum for reliable eggs and sporadic roasted fare.

Lacking that, what purpose served his worldly shift if it meant mere torment?

His initial hurdle shone evident—Agriculture.

Should the farmers cease laboring for the elites, they could erode noble sway and unite under his banner.