Chapter 114: The Exemplary Drought Resistance (A Combined Chapter)

It must be said that Fang Jun was truly a natural-born warrior. His extraordinary strength was rarely matched; even Cheng Chumo found himself conceding defeat when facing Fang Jun’s seemingly superhuman power.

To him, a well pump was like a toy. He had been working it continuously for a long time without showing any sign of fatigue.

“Minister Fang, your son truly has such a physique. If he does not join the army, it would be a real pity,” Emperor Taizong of Tang remarked admiringly as he looked at Fang Jun’s bulging muscles. In his youth, the emperor had endured countless battles and honed a strong body, but after pacifying the realm, a life of ease had gradually caused him to gain weight, and he was no longer as fit as before.

“My son does not care for books; he prefers martial arts. Please forgive him, Your Majesty,” Fang Xuanling said with a wry smile.

Within the Fang family, Fang Jun was the greatest source of worry for Fang Xuanling. His eldest son, Fang Yizhi, was the legitimate heir—steady and composed, destined to inherit Fang Xuanling’s noble title and the dukedom. The second son, Fang Jun, had no such prospects. Fang Xuanling had originally planned to petition the emperor to arrange a marriage between Fang Jun and Princess Gaoyang; this way, even after Fang Xuanling’s passing, Fang Jun would enjoy a lifetime of wealth and honor.

Unfortunately, a single inked edict from Modun had not only ruined the marriage plans with the Changsun family but also dashed Fang Xuanling’s hopes. Changsun Wuji, realizing marriage to Princess Changle was impossible, arranged for Changsun Chong to become betrothed to the favored Princess Gaoyang instead. Fang Xuanling was resentful but helpless, for in terms of closeness to the emperor, he could not compete with Changsun Wuji.

Little did Fang Xuanling know what the future held. Had he known that Princess Gaoyang would bring such misery upon the Fang family, he would not have felt regret—he might have even wished to thank Modun.

Soon, the water drawn from the well grew clear, signaling that the well had been properly cleaned. Fang Jun breathed a sigh of relief and handed the well pump to a Modun family member before walking over with Modun Da.

“Greetings to the distinguished guests, and greetings to the young master!” Modun Da ran over and bowed to Modun Dun. Though he did not know Fang Xuanling or Emperor Taizong personally, he understood that those accompanied by the young master were certainly high-ranking individuals.

“Shall the young master continue drilling wells?” Modun Da asked Modun Dun for instructions.

“Yes! Not only shall we drill wells, but they must be sufficient to irrigate all the experimental fields,” Modun Dun declared with great enthusiasm, pointing toward the hundred-acre experimental farm.

“Young master, to irrigate all hundred acres, at least five wells must be drilled. But with just the few of us, we may not manage it in time, and the farming season could be jeopardized!” Modun Da said with a troubled expression.

He knew how important the experimental fields were to Modun Dun—they were the showcase of Modun Village in Chang’an, and failure was not an option. But if they drilled wells slowly like this, the crops would be half dead by the time they finished. Modun Village simply did not have enough laborers. People were busy manufacturing waterwheels and running the artificial incubation factory; the village’s fisheries and farms also demanded many hands. Despite its size, Modun Village was facing a labor shortage.

“If there are not enough hands, then hire people! The drought must be solved as soon as possible. Not only the experimental fields but all the dry fields in Modun Village must be drilled and irrigated,” Modun Dun said firmly. After all, Modun Village specialized in selling waterwheels. If their own land suffered from drought, how could they possibly promote their irrigation tools? That would be like a butcher who could not afford pork.

“Drill wells and irrigate all?” Modun Da suddenly felt overwhelmed. Most of Modun Village’s fields—about 80%—were drylands. The manpower required was staggering.

“Modun Dun, aren’t you asking for the impossible? How can Modun Da recruit enough workers on such short notice?” Fang Jun spoke up, sympathizing with Modun Da.

“Isn’t there a large number of idle people?” Modun Dun glanced at the crowd along the official road who were worshipping the Dragon King. Nearly an hour had passed, and the number of people praying for rain had not diminished but grown, almost blocking the entire road.

Emperor Taizong and Fang Xuanling exchanged helpless looks at Modun Dun’s audacity. They had not expected him to pin his hopes on the Dragon King. Yet, neither stopped him, for with Modun Dun’s irrigation method, whether the Dragon King was angry or not seemed irrelevant.

Modun Da’s eyes lit up. Indeed, this was a good idea. Whether the Dragon King was offended was not a concern—after all, if all of Modun Village’s fields were irrigated, who would care about the Dragon King’s wrath?

“Modun Village is recruiting well diggers! Daily wage: fifty wen!” Modun Da shouted along the official road, causing a stir.

Fifty wen was a high wage in the Tang Dynasty. Compared to later eras, prices were much lower then, and fifty wen could cover a common family’s expenses for an entire week.

“Modun Village has always been so generous?” Fang Xuanling asked. As prime minister, he was well aware of Tang’s prices and average wages. Fifty wen a day far surpassed most people’s income.

For such a high wage to be offered by a servant, and with Modun Dun acting as if it were only natural, Fang Xuanling could not help but adopt a slightly admonishing tone.

“Minister Fang, you misunderstand. Modun Village has its own standards for wages. Well digging and pumping water are physically demanding tasks; fifty wen a day is not excessive. Moreover, if we can irrigate all Modun Village’s fields quickly, crop losses will be minimized. Only by irrigating our lands first can we ensure the waterwheels sell well. In that light, fifty wen a day is not a loss at all,” Modun Dun explained.

“Shrewd merchant!” Emperor Taizong sneered upon hearing Modun Dun openly declare his intentions. Was this boy simply money-hungry after experiencing poverty? Yet the more candid Modun Dun was, the less the emperor felt inclined to blame him. After all, Modun Village neither stole nor hoarded.

“Fifty wen!” Many of the people praying for rain were instantly tempted. The drought was devastating; without rain, harvests would fail, even lead to famine. If they could earn some extra money now, they might survive the disaster. Many quietly moved toward Modun Da.

“Don’t move! Are you not afraid of angering the Dragon King and bringing disaster?” shouted an elder leading the crowd.

“Dragon King!” The praying villagers looked fearfully at the clay statue of the Dragon King. In this era, belief in ghosts and gods was widespread, which explained the crowds seeking rain.

“Do you think offering a few pig heads will make the Dragon King send rain?” Modun Da snorted coldly.

“If you offend the Dragon King, the Guanzhong region will never know peace. Can Modun Village bear that responsibility?” the elder said sternly.

“You fear offending the Dragon King, but Modun Village does not. We have created irrigation tools for dry fields. Anyone who comes to work will be offered these tools at half price after irrigation ends,” Modun Da retorted bluntly.

Modun Da’s last words were the final straw. Between the intangible Dragon King—who might or might not bring rain—and the tangible results of irrigation, people found the choice easy.

“I’ll go,” said a towering man as he stood and approached Modun Da.

“Zhang Wu, do you know what will happen if you offend the Dragon King?” the village elder shouted angrily, unable to believe these people dared betray the gods.

“Village chief, I know you mean well. Four years ago, you also led us in praying for rain, but if the Dragon King were truly powerful, my mother would not have starved to death in that drought. I do not want to suffer the same fate again,” said Zhang Wu, tears in his eyes, thinking of his starving wife and children. Without looking back, he joined Modun Da.

“I’m going too!”

“I won’t pray for rain anymore!”

...

Soon, the crowd praying for rain dispersed, leaving only a few stubborn elders around the village chief.

In the contest between Modun Village and the Dragon King, Modun Village had won a small victory.

Confident the well drilling experiment would succeed, Modun Dun had no doubts. The well-drilling equipment had been produced to mass-production standards from the start. Modun Village had prepared many sets ahead of time for sale outside the experimental fields and was now using them personally.

Each set of well-drilling tools required four workers, and there were more than enough. Under Modun Da’s command, dozens of well-digging teams started simultaneously, a truly awe-inspiring spectacle.

The workers labored hard, knowing that the sooner the wells were finished, the sooner they could purchase cheap pumps to irrigate their own fields.

“In at most two days, all hundred acres of the experimental field will be fully irrigated! From now on, this land will be blessed with timely rains and bountiful harvests every year,” Modun Dun said proudly. He never hid or modestly downplayed his efforts.

“Such a pity! Had this irrigation technology been promoted a month earlier, the drought wouldn’t have been such a disaster. Now, it’s too late!” Fang Xuanling lamented as he watched water flow from each well.

Though Modun Village had carved a path to defeat the drought, by the time the tools were made and wells dug, much of Guanzhong’s crops were already withering.

“You brat, always showing off! The people of Guanzhong are on the brink of famine, and you still have time to flaunt yourself,” Emperor Taizong scolded, feeling helpless against the impending disaster.

Having such a perfect solution at hand but being powerless due to time constraints drove the emperor to frustration. Unfortunately, Modun Dun, the boastful one, became the scapegoat.

Modun Dun immediately fled in panic, secretly recalling the famous “crab effect” from later times.

A single crab can easily climb out of an open basket, but if several crabs are placed together, none can escape because they pull each other down.

Modun Dun suddenly realized a problem: Modun Village might be the only crab escaping the basket. If all the other farmers in Guanzhong suffered crop failure while Modun Village alone prospered, the villagers’ harvest would not be envied but hated. The carefully cultivated image of Modun Village would collapse under the weight of public anger.

This was not about right or wrong, but about human nature.

No, Modun Village could not be put in such a precarious position. Modun Dun’s mind raced to find a way out.

“I have a plan to solve the drought crisis in Guanzhong,” Modun Dun exclaimed loudly.

“What?” Emperor Taizong and Fang Xuanling could hardly believe their ears, staring intently at Modun Dun.

“You brat, do you know that false claims against the emperor are considered treason?” Emperor Taizong glared red-eyed at Modun Dun, desperate for any possible solution, unwilling to miss a chance. Fang Xuanling also looked at Modun Dun with hopeful anticipation.

Modun Dun bowed to the emperor and said, “Here, I must impeach Minister Fang for dereliction of duty.”

“Dereliction of duty?” Fang Xuanling was baffled. Was such a charge even in Tang law?

“Modun Dun! You dare slander my father?” Fang Er, Fang Xuanling’s second son, was furious and shouted.

“Heh heh heh! You, Modun Dun, dare to impeach my prime minister. If you cannot justify your claim, you will be charged with both treason and false accusation,” Emperor Taizong sneered. No one in the world would refer to someone as ‘uncle’ while impeaching them.

“In this drought disaster in Guanzhong, Modun Village developed new waterwheels and well pumps. The other villagers organized prayer rituals, which were useless but at least an effort. What has the government done during this crisis?” Modun Dun retorted coldly.

Fang Xuanling was stunned.

Indeed—what had the government done? After some thought, he realized it had done nothing.

“This is a natural disaster that ordinary people cannot withstand. Their last hope, the court, has been utterly inactive,” Modun Dun sneered.

“Then what do you think the government should do?” Fang Xuanling asked humbly.

“The new well-drilling tools and pumps are not difficult to make. Minister Fang, with a single decree, could mobilize a large amount of steel and gather all the craftsmen in Guanzhong to work overtime producing these irrigation tools,” Modun Dun said.

Fang Xuanling nodded. “That is indeed not difficult. I believe I could accomplish it. But even so, we cannot match the number of laborers Modun Village has in its experimental fields.”

Well digging is a strenuous task, usually done by four people per well. Guanzhong has countless fields and wells to dig; it’s impossible to manage with limited workers.

“To my knowledge, there is a place in Guanzhong with a large number of idle laborers. It depends on whether Your Majesty is willing to use them,” Modun Dun hinted.

“You brat! You actually mean the Sixteen Guards? Do you know what their duty is?” Emperor Taizong immediately understood Modun Dun’s implication. The Sixteen Guards were the elite forces defending Chang’an, numbering about two hundred thousand.

Modun Dun stood proudly and said, “Of course I know. Soldiers protect the homeland. But Guanzhong’s drought threatens countless families with separation and starvation. Don’t those families need protection?”

Recalling how in later times, whenever disasters struck, countless brave souls rushed to the front lines, Modun Dun’s passion surged.

“This is a crisis, both a danger and an opportunity. The government can take this chance to promote the new irrigation tools so that Guanzhong’s lands will never again be caught off guard by drought.

At the same time, for the Sixteen Guards, this would be a showcase—a real, meaningful drought relief effort, not mere performance. It would demonstrate the emperor’s benevolence and love for his people and symbolize the unity between the military and civilians.”

“Drought relief showcase!” Emperor Taizong mulled over these words, his eyes shining brighter. With this, he would win the hearts of Guanzhong’s people at once, leaving no room for opposition.