39. The Governor boards his boat, preparing to set sail.

Governor Guo was determined to see Xinping Township for himself. He had to know what kind of industry could earn as much in a single year as a typical county earned in a century. He distinctly remembered glancing at the data for that wretched, neglected township back then—a place of only three thousand people, mostly the elderly, infirm, and disabled. Even if Xia Lin were a genius of governance, it seemed impossible that he could have transformed it into the top tax-paying township in the entire province—no, the entire country—in just two years.

How many powerful counties were there around the capital? While a sum of 270,000 taels of silver could not compare to the likes of Chang'an, Luoyang, Hanyang, or Jinling, one had to consider the context. What were those cities, and what was Xinping? Chang'an had a population of 820,000 and tax revenue of 410,000. Luoyang had 790,000 people and 470,000 in taxes. Hanyang had over a million people and 660,000 in taxes. Jinling had 1.85 million people and 1.09 million in taxes. Xinping, with only 3,000 people, had generated 270,000.

If one were asked to pick the outlier from those five, it would clearly be Chang'an. But Chang'an was the Great Wei’s northern defensive gateway; its population was high due to the military, and its tax revenue was low because there was little commerce. As for Luoyang, it had been a wealthy hub years ago, but due to issues with the northern officialdom and the subsequent relocation of the capital to Jinling, its economy had naturally declined. Moreover, this year, the Tang family—Luoyang's largest taxpayer—had shifted their focus to the south, making the two northern metropolises seem rather lackluster.

But Xinping... the mere fact that it was being compared to Luoyang and Chang'an made Governor Guo break into a cold sweat. He dared not report these figures blindly. If anything went wrong, he would at the very least be charged with lax supervision. Furthermore, the capital was currently in turmoil; the civil official faction led by Gao Shilian, backed by the southern gentry, was ruthlessly purging their rivals. If he made a mistake now, this border-governing official would likely be reassigned to the far northwest to defend against the Xiongnu.

However, as a dignified governor, Old Guo could not simply hitch a ride on an ox cart like Xia Lin. He had to maintain appearances; even if he didn't care, the laws of the Great Wei demanded it, unless one was traveling incognito.

"There is no time. I must depart in ten days to attend the Grand Court Assembly. I need speed. Do not prepare a boat; tell the military liaison and the post house to prepare a fast horse for an eight-hundred-li urgent dispatch. I am leaving at once."

In this territory, Old Guo was essentially an uncrowned king. If not for the presence of the Prince of Teng, his word here would hold even more weight than the Emperor's. When he ordered an eight-hundred-li urgent dispatch, it was done.

Old Guo was a capable man; despite being over fifty, he looked spirited in the saddle. With a dozen guards, he galloped straight toward Xinping Township.

An eight-hundred-li dispatch meant speed. The postmasters along the route were worked to the bone, while Old Guo, save for the necessities, never left his saddle. Departing in the morning, he arrived by the afternoon of the following day. It was worth noting that it had taken Xia Lin ten days to travel via Poyang Lake.

This trip was, in effect, an incognito inspection. His primary goal was to witness for himself why this backwater was so wealthy, so he kept a low profile. However, as he entered the post station on the border of Xinping Township, he squinted, staring for a long time.

The post station... was it not a bit too extravagant?

It was a three-story building. While it lacked intricate carvings, it was finished in vermilion lacquer. A massive wooden plaque was embedded on the exterior, inscribed in a mixture of cinnabar and lacquer with the words "Xinping Welcomes You" and "Ten Li to Xinping Township." Nearby, several grand lanterns hung with signs reading "Dining," "Lodging," "Hospitality," and "Rest."

After crossing from Leping into the Xinping boundary, the road was noticeably wider, paved with crushed stone over a foundation of yellow earth, making for a very comfortable ride. Nearby, workers were excavating the roadbed to lay blue bricks—clearly a project only the wealthy could afford.

Just as Old Guo stood there, stunned, he caught sight of an old man with "Sanitation" embroidered on his clothes, smoothing out the road surface they had just churned up. Curious, Old Guo approached and asked, "Old man, the laws of the Great Wei state that one need not labor after the age of seventy. Why are you at your age still..."

"What are you babbling about?" the old man snapped, ignoring who he was talking to. "If you have nothing to say, no one will mistake you for a mute!"

With that, he went back to smoothing the road with his bamboo basket. Old Guo had never been treated with such disrespect. He stood there stunned for a long time. But what could he do? This kind of elder could neither be scolded nor struck. Even if the Emperor himself were here, he could only offer a sheepish smile and shake his head in helplessness.

After all, the founding principles of the Great Wei were loyalty, filial piety, ritual, wisdom, and integrity. "Treating the elders of others as one's own" was a national tenet. Who would dare harass these old folks? Unless they committed a heinous crime, they were effectively above the law.

Unable to get an answer from the elder, he turned to the post station waiter. As he entered the courtyard, he was greeted by the scent of liquor. He turned to see a youth in a green cap hawking wine:

"Longevity Spring, Longevity Spring! One bowl and you're invincible against ten thousand; two bowls and you can shift the stars! Three or four bowls down the hatch, and you won't even blink at a tiger!"

Seeing Old Guo, the waiter noticed his expensive attire and immediately greeted him with a beaming smile, holding out a wine pot and cup. "Sir, sir! Have a cup, free of charge. If you like it, buy a jar. If you don't, you can spit it all over me!"

"Interesting."

As Governor Guo reached for the cup, his guards moved to intervene, but a single glance from the Governor sent them retreating. He lifted the cup and took a deep breath. "Hmm, a potent brew..."

He touched it to his tongue, and the flavor flooded from his mouth to his sinuses. He downed the half-ounce cup in one go. The wine turned into a ball of fire sliding down his throat. Old Guo, whose limbs had been chilled by the wind and frost of the journey, felt his blood warm up within a few breaths.

"Hm! Excellent spirit!" Old Guo praised with a nod. "Splendid, truly good stuff."

"Would you like to buy some, sir? I’ll go fetch a jar for you."

"Yes, five catties. I have many men with me, and it will help keep them warm."

The waiter chuckled and hurried to draw the wine. "You must not be from around here, sir. Our wine is very strong. Most people can't handle three ounces, so five catties for a dozen men is just right. After you drink, you can rest in our post station and take a bath—now that is true comfort."

"A bath? In the dead of winter? No, no, I'm not a young man anymore," Old Guo waved him off. "I can't stand the cold."

"Hahaha... rest assured, sir, it will make you shout with joy."

Old Guo laughed but didn't pay much heed. Instead, he asked, "Why was that old man performing corvée labor at seventy? Is there no one to look after him?"

"Hahaha, you mean him? That’s part of the township's 'Security for the Aged' program. That’s what the Township Magistrate calls it, anyway. He lets the old folks find some light work to do, and the township subsidizes them each month. These old people used to be pitiful, but now they are the envy of everyone. Not only do they have food and clothing, but they also get three taels of silver a month. If you told them to stop working, they’d curse you out!"

So that was it... it wasn't forced labor, but paid work. That was interesting. Hiring these elderly folks with their stiff joints—it was quite a progressive policy.

"In that case, I shall rest here a while. Tell me, is the food here any good? I have no other hobbies, only a love for a good meal."

"You can set your heart at ease, sir. The chef here was hired from Luoyang; he used to cook for the Tang family. Eat without worry. If you have even the slightest complaint, you can cut me down, and if I make a sound, I’m not a man."

"Are you from the north as well, young man?"

"Yes, I came from Luoyang with my older brother. Many people here are from the Heluo and Shanxi regions; we all followed the Tang family." The lad was honest. "You should head inside quickly, sir. If you're any later, there won't be any tables left."