Chapter Thirty: Farming Can Earn You a Noble Title Too

However, the deeper meaning was that Lin Qian wanted Ning Lan to see for himself how many children in this city had perhaps not tasted meat in years.

This was a dish the kitchen would prepare for Ning Lan whenever he desired it. Regardless of how empty the grain reserves of Chunping City might be, this son of the City Lord—the future Lord of Chunping—was the very heavens of this place.

When would the "heavens" truly descend into the mortal world, mingling among the masses until they were indistinguishable from everyone else?

What Lin Qian wanted him to understand was that no matter how noble one’s status, there was always the possibility of losing it. No matter who one relied upon, there would come a day when that pillar would collapse. Once the support vanished and that noble status suddenly disappeared, the sheer sense of disparity would easily destroy a young nobleman.

The suffering that had once been inflicted upon him—Lin Qian did not want to see such things repeated.

"Let’s go. It is time for us to attend to serious business."

"Serious business?"

Indeed, over the past two days, Lin Qian had not merely been resting; he had been constantly scribbling and sketching in his study, though it was unclear what he was planning. Watching Lin Qian tuck the parchment roll under his arm, Ye Huang was quite curious.

"What are we going to do?"

"On the main stage in the heart of Chunping City, I am going to announce something. From this day forward, this matter shall be an immutable law, one that no one, no matter who they are, can ever change!"

*Thump.*

Ye Huang’s heart trembled violently. She knew Lin Qian’s ambitions; a small place like Chunping City was never meant to be his permanent residence. How could a dragon among men remain forever in the shallows?

Thinking of this, Ye Huang could not help but nod heavily. "Very well! No matter what decision you make, Brother Lin Qian, I will support you!"

At this moment, on the central stage of Chunping City, the townspeople had already been gathered. They crowded around the platform to watch the commotion, their discussions growing increasingly boisterous.

"Have you heard? They say our City Lord is no longer that little brat. The Princess has appointed the former heir of the Western Expedition Prince’s estate as the new City Lord!"

"That is the Western Expedition Prince’s estate! If it weren't for the tragedy three years ago, he might even be a true Prince by now!"

"Hmph! A dragon begets a dragon, a phoenix begets a phoenix, and a rat's child knows how to dig! Bloodline is bloodline. I suspect this City Lord will soar to the heavens sooner or later!"

"Hush, he’s here! He’s come with the Princess!"

As the crowd erupted in cheers, Lin Qian and Ye Huang stepped onto the stage. Ye Huang cleared her throat and addressed everyone below: "Fellow citizens, from now on, Lin Qian shall be the master of Chunping City. He will surely lead you and me to ensure we are well-fed and clothed, leaving you with no worries for the future."

"But for now, to achieve such days, you must all do your part!"

Although Ye Huang did not yet fully grasp what Lin Qian intended, she knew deep down that he was striving toward this goal.

In the next moment, Lin Qian slowly unfurled the parchment, the calligraphy upon it clearly visible.

"Listen well! Fellow citizens, today I, Lin Qian, issue the first City Lord's Decree: The Theory of Military Merit!"

"The Theory of Military Merit? What is that?"

Everyone looked at one another in confusion; they had never even heard the term.

"All soldiers of our Chunping White-Pole Army, listen clearly! Killing enemies on the battlefield is merit, but reclaiming land and guarding the borders is also merit. Those who reclaim and sow more than five acres of land over three months shall be granted the first rank of nobility: the rank of *Zaoshi* (Scholar-Builder)!"

At this, the townspeople were utterly bewildered, and the soldiers exchanged puzzled glances. What kind of title was *Zaoshi*? And what benefit could come from such a rank?

Lin Qian cleared his throat and continued: "The *Zaoshi* is the lowest of the twenty-one ranks of nobility!"

As soon as these words were spoken, a ripple of derision passed through the crowd. Was the lowest rank just a hollow title?

"Those who attain the rank of *Zaoshi* shall be exempt from the corvée labor of one person in their household, and the taxes for three members of their family shall be waived!"

The moment this was said, it commanded everyone's full attention. Taxes were always the heaviest burden on a household. A family consisting of parents, a wife, and children started at at least five people. When a child was born, a poll tax was levied; many families could not afford it, and in this era, many infants were drowned in rivers upon birth.

To be exempt from the taxes of three people was, in effect, a massive reduction in the household's primary expenses. It meant that the money and grain previously impossible to save could now be kept!

"So, nobility has such benefits! But what kind of person can obtain the *Zaoshi* rank? Just by plowing or sowing five acres and tending the land until it is fertile?"

Land being "raw" versus "fertile" were two different concepts. To make a plot of land fertile required repeated sowing and meticulous care, much like caring for a person.

"Correct. Five acres. Whoever has the most fertile land, whoever’s crops are full and plump, and whoever reaps a bountiful harvest—to them, I shall grant the rank of *Zaoshi*!"

The townspeople were stunned. "That is a title for soldiers. But what about us? What if we have no land to farm?"

No land to farm? That was impossible! This was a frontier region; there was no shortage of anything, and vast tracts of land were readily available. Forget five acres—even ten or twenty were there for the taking!

Lin Qian narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping into a firm tone. "Citizens may go to the City Lord’s office to find the registrar. He will allocate land to each of you according to the rolls, though there is a difference between the commoners and the soldiers."

Hearing the words "a difference," disappointment filled the eyes of many. After all, those soldiers were the White-Pole troops—the City Lord's own men.

"Each of you is a master at working the soil, so my requirements for you will be higher. I require you to tend ten acres. Whoever has ten acres with flourishing crops, full grains, and a bountiful harvest will be granted a title. The same benefits apply: one person exempt from labor, three people exempt from taxes. Furthermore, whoever has the best land will be appointed as a Village Chief!"

"Among ten Village Chiefs, whoever governs the area with the most fertile land will be promoted to District Chief!"

"In short, the *Zaoshi* rank is merely the lowest. Next year, the assessments will continue. Those who pass can be promoted to *Gongshi* (Public Gentleman), the second-to-last rank. These titles are earned through your hard work and sweat. Here, I treat everyone equally. Whoever farms the best shall receive a title!"

As these words fell, the entire city of Chunping fell into a deathly silence.

The people stood stunned for a long while before they suddenly realized what had been promised. A thunderous, wave-like roar of cheers erupted from the crowd.

"Heavenly Bodhisattva! The heavens have finally opened their eyes!"

"When has it ever been heard that farming could earn one a title? As long as you farm well, you are exempt from labor and taxes—this is unheard of! It has never happened in a thousand years!"