Chapter 123: Well Suppression

In the Mo family experimental field.

Four disciples of the Mo family formed a circle around a roughly ten-foot-long iron rod. At the base of the rod was a cylindrical piece about one and a half feet long and half a foot in diameter. The bottom of the cylinder appeared to have been sharply cut at an angle, leaving a pointed tip.

This was a common tool used in rural villages in the 1980s for digging wells and lifting soil. Mo Dun drew up the plans, and the skilled craftsmen of Mo family village easily forged it.

Mo Da held two wooden sticks about as thick as his arms, with thick hemp ropes tied at the middle of each stick. The ropes were wound tightly around the iron rod repeatedly until they reached the wooden sticks. This effectively divided the sticks into four halves, each pointing in a different direction. Each Mo disciple grasped one end, and this simple well-digging tool was complete.

“Hey!”

Under Mo Da’s command, the four disciples used the leverage of the wooden sticks to thrust the pointed cylinder into the already moist ground. Repeatedly, they exerted force to fill the cylinder with wet earth. Each time they pulled the cylinder out, it brought up a bucketful of soil.

Soon, the ten-foot iron rod visibly sank into the earth. When it reached chest height, Mo Da connected another ten-foot rod, and the process of pushing down and lifting soil was repeated.

“Water has appeared!”

In ancient times, groundwater was quite shallow. Even in times of severe drought, when the first rod was fully submerged, the soil brought up was already a slurry—a sign that water had been reached.

Once water appeared, the soil softened significantly, making the digging easier. The second iron rod was soon submerged, and a third was connected.

When the third rod was mostly buried, the well-digging work gradually neared completion. In just half an hour, a deep well three zhang (about nine meters) deep was finished.

Watching the speed of the Mo village well-digging, Fang Xuanling and Emperor Taizong were astounded. In ancient times, digging a well was no easy feat.

A good well required first digging the soil, then excavating a sloped passage from the side to the underground water source, but it couldn’t be too deep. Too deep meant poor oxygen, and the high water table of the era made underwater excavation impossible.

After reaching water, the well walls had to be reinforced, and the excavation channel carefully filled. This process usually took three to five days, yet this well was completed in half an hour.

“Is it really done?” Emperor Taizong, ignoring the mud strewn about, stepped to the wellhead and peered into the narrow half-foot-wide opening. He frowned; the well was too small to lower a water bucket.

Mo Dun looked at the new wellhead and nodded with satisfaction. “Your Majesty, this is only the first step. Next, we must wash the well.”

“Wash the well?” Fang Jun and Fang Xuanling exchanged stunned glances. They’d heard of washing hands, bathing, and clothes, but washing an underground well? Emperor Taizong was already used to Mo Dun’s occasional new coinages.

“Uncle Fang, you may not know that there is a lot of sediment in the water. If not promptly removed, it will clog the water channels underground and hinder water flow,” Mo Dun explained, and the three finally understood.

“How can we get rid of the muddy water? The opening is so small, there’s no room for a bucket,” Fang Jun asked, voicing the question that had long lingered in Emperor Taizong’s mind.

Mo Dun smiled mysteriously. “This is the crux of today’s experiment. The Mo village will use a new tool to continuously pump water from this well until it runs clear.”

Under the curious gazes of the three, Mo Da quickly reinforced the wellhead with blue bricks. Two disciples carried a two-and-a-half-zhang long iron pipe, while the other two bore a strange iron contraption with a long handle.

If someone from the future were here, they would recognize it immediately as the common water extraction device—known in later times as the ‘well pump’—widely used in the 1980s and ‘90s before being phased out.

The two-zhang iron pipe was lowered into the well and connected to the base of the pump. It was simply sealed with some soil and firmly secured to the ground with wooden wedges. The pump was ready.

“Will this really draw water?” Fang Xuanling could not comprehend Mo Dun’s actions.

“One final step remains,” Mo Dun said as he took a gourd dipper from Mo Da and poured prepared water into the pump’s opening.

Fang Jun rolled up his sleeves and grabbed the pump handle. With strong, rhythmic pushes, he pressed down repeatedly. The task suited his robust build perfectly.

After just a few pumps, thick muddy water burst from the pump’s outlet, gushing along the channels Mo village had prepared in advance, flowing eagerly toward the thirsty land.

“It works!” Mo Dun smiled with satisfaction.

Seeing the yellowish muddy water, Emperor Taizong and Fang Xuanling showed no disdain. They scooped handfuls of it, feeling its coolness, their joy uncontrollable.

It was feasible—this method was absolutely workable!

Mo Dun demonstrated every step openly before them. Digging the well was straightforward, and the pump’s iron materials only required more metal, nothing extraordinary.

Moreover, it was human-powered—farmers never lacked strength. As long as they had enough to eat, no amount of labor was too great.

“One pump can irrigate about one mu of land. If bamboo or copper pipes are added, it can supply water for two mu. With several wells, a family, if diligent, could ensure a bountiful harvest over five or six mu annually,” Mo Dun confidently explained.

“Six mu!” Emperor Taizong laughed heartily, overjoyed. Priority for well-digging would be fertile fields. A family with six mu of guaranteed harvest land could survive even in bad years by scrimping.

The worst fear in bad years was total crop failure, which made survival impossible.

“In a few years, when the Mo village experimental fields develop high-yield seeds producing six dan per mu, a family relying on six mu of good land will live in prosperity,” Mo Dun said proudly, pointing to the Mo family experimental fields.

“Excellent!”

Emperor Taizong and Fang Xuanling were thrilled beyond measure. If every household could be self-sufficient, producing three to four thousand jin of grain annually, the grand era of the Tang dynasty was within reach—unless struck by an irresistible disaster.

Fang Xuanling admired Mo Dun, then glanced at his son laboring at the pump and sighed silently; comparison can be maddening.

Fang Er was speechless as well. Following Mo Dun brought many surprises, but the greatest downside was that with another’s child so capable nearby, his own presence felt nearly invisible.