Chapter 87 Model Manor

The nomads’ skill in mounted archery was honed from childhood, practiced constantly until adulthood, when one became a masterful horse archer. Feng Xiaobao, only now striving to catch up, found it a grueling pursuit—even with his keen understanding, exceptional memory, remarkable physique, and lightning reflexes, all his talents maxed out. The gap was formidable. Training from youth was innate; beginning as an adult was acquired. The difference lay in the swiftness of instinctive reaction. No wonder the nomads’ archery was so precise—the bow and arrow had seeped into their very blood!

As he practiced, Feng Xiaobao could only sigh. His conditions were already excellent, yet after a month’s effort, Tang Tian bluntly told him that he was still not on par with an ordinary nomadic archer. There was nothing for it but to keep practicing, over and over again.

Feng Xiaobao’s little estate outside the city comprised just over thirty acres—not enough for a full gallop, barely suitable for a leisurely trot. Though he owned a fine horse, stopping and starting in such a small space was hard on the animal. Horses needed to run; only through sustained movement could their strength manifest. Running was in their nature, and keeping them idle was detrimental to their health.

Thus, Feng Xiaobao often rode between his small estate and Princess Qianjin’s sprawling manor, which covered thousands of acres of verdant woodland—ample space for riding and archery. Over time, the people of the great manor grew familiar with him, coming to respect his authority.

Princess Qianjin owned two manors: Willow Manor, famed for its scenery, and Greenwoods Manor, which served as her granary. Managing such estates was no simple task. Two stewards, Madam Ding and Steward Shi, oversaw the internal and external affairs of Greenwoods Manor, their days filled with toil. The difficulty stemmed from the lack of direct guidance from the princess herself—though she was well-versed in polo, equestrian fashion, and jewelry, her knowledge of agriculture was sorely lacking.

So when Feng Xiaobao spent time at Greenwoods Manor, Madam Ding often sought his counsel. At first, he offered casual advice, but gradually, he began managing the manor’s affairs on the princess’s behalf.

Was he truly skilled in estate management? As the saying goes, one who has read three hundred Tang poems, even if not a poet, can still recite a few verses. Drawing on his experience from the future, Feng Xiaobao implemented modern rural development concepts: advancing production, improving living standards, fostering a civilized village spirit, maintaining orderly appearances, and promoting good governance.

First and foremost was production. Without economic development, without money or grain, all else was empty talk. Under his leadership, ten seasoned farmers—some local, some renowned grain-growers from other regions—were invited to form an agricultural advisory group. He avoided grandiose titles like “science committee”; the group’s sole purpose was to offer advice and improve agricultural practices.

Feng Xiaobao did not rule by decree; every decision was made through discussion. He was well aware of his own limitations in farming—he knew only the basics and had much to learn about the entire process. This did not stop him from applying some universally effective measures.

For instance, he purchased cattle and horses to help plow the fields, using animal strength to speed up cultivation. He hired a blacksmith from the village to forge tools for the farmers. Since the tenants all belonged to the princess, the cost of livestock and horses was no concern—if the land had been privately allotted, this would have amounted to a subsidy.

Good tools are a prerequisite for good work. With these dual measures, the speed and efficiency of farming improved dramatically. Next came irrigation projects, locust eradication campaigns, and composting to help the fields withstand adversity and boost yields.

After Feng Xiaobao had appeased the local mountain spirits and earth dragons, large-scale irrigation works commenced. Canals stretched out to the fields, and waterwheels became a hallmark of Greenwoods Manor’s idyllic landscape. The channels were carefully constructed with reinforced bottoms to prevent leakage and covered to reduce evaporation, using stone, mud, and timber. The most suitable material would have been cement slabs, but until Feng Xiaobao could protect his invention, he dared not unleash this trump card.

That year, the Luoyang region was struck by severe drought—the land cracked, crops failed, and desperate farmers wept. The imperial government was powerless to provide relief. Though the Laizhou gold mine had been discovered, it was a distant hope; it would take time for the mine to become productive. Meanwhile, the court’s resources were drained by wars with Tibet and Korea, leaving the treasury empty and unable to help its own people.

The government’s solution was to order the people to seek food in other provinces—abandoning their homes to find sustenance elsewhere. Yet Greenwoods Manor, thanks to its newly built canals, withstood the drought.

Drought often brought locusts (for locusts disliked wet conditions), and soon swarms filled the sky, darkening the heavens. When the locusts descended, every resident of Greenwoods Manor, young and old alike, sprang into action—locust eradication became their all-consuming task.

They drove chickens, ducks, and geese into the fields to feast on the locusts. Feng Xiaobao also purchased large numbers of poultry for this purpose, letting them eat to their hearts’ content. At dawn, people rose to catch and swat locusts, taking advantage of the dew-dampened wings that slowed the insects’ flight. Even after dark, the battle continued—bonfires were lit in the fields, luring flying locusts to the flames where they were slaughtered en masse, then gathered and buried.

Many estates and farmers dared not kill the locusts, standing by helplessly as every green shoot was devoured, leaving them with neither food nor cash crops. With the government unable to provide relief, their only choice was to abandon their homes.

But Greenwoods Manor had already cleared potential breeding grounds before the locusts arrived, so few hatched locally—most swarms came from outside, only to meet fierce resistance from the manor’s people. For over ten days and nights, the relentless battle raged. Countless locusts were slain, and a third of the chickens and ducks died from overeating. Yet their deaths were not in vain—Feng Xiaobao generously distributed the poultry among the people.

When the plague finally passed, Greenwoods Manor’s harvest was halved, but at least the people retained enough to survive—they would not be forced into exile. Quick replanting followed to make up for lost yields.

Witnessing friends and relatives in neighboring villages being driven from their homes by hunger, the people of Greenwoods Manor fell to their knees in gratitude whenever Feng Xiaobao rode by, thanking him for saving their lives. He would smile and reply, “It was you who saved yourselves!”

With grain in hand and peace in their hearts, people went to work at the soap factory, earning wages to sustain their lives. The soap business thrived—though disaster had struck the Luoyang region, the wealthy of Luoyang and Chang’an were only modestly affected, and with national resources concentrated in those two capitals, there was never a shortage of customers for soap.

Thus, the standard of living for the people remained steady. Compared to the suffering all around them, they lived contentedly, smiles brightening their faces.

Each year, Feng Xiaobao set aside a portion of the soap factory’s profit to pave roads, plant trees, and construct drainage ditches. Household and public latrines were built, along with biogas pits and proper shelters for livestock and poultry. Workers were hired to sweep the streets, collect and transport trash for burial. Village rules were established: no gambling, no theft, no idleness…

The people were still poor, most of the money coming from Feng Xiaobao himself, but everyone contributed their labor. He drove forward new rural development at Greenwoods Manor, reforming customs and advocating a new way of life. He relied on whips and confinement to teach hard lessons; for the more obstinate, there was the cangue—locking offenders in small cages for public humiliation.

Thus was born the prototype of the “urban management squad”—uniformed officers patrolling Greenwoods Manor, enforcing discipline and correcting bad behavior. They were brave, but Feng Xiaobao repeatedly warned: under no circumstances was anyone to lose their life—whoever caused a death would be held strictly accountable.