This year was naturally a good year.
The thunder of Awakening of Insects stirred, the Rabbit Month rose, Mid-Spring began, and all things sprang forth.
These descriptions were recorded in the Book of Rites. But for common people who relied upon the land for their livelihood, there was an even simpler measure to judge whether the year would be good.
If the first spring rain fell upon the day of Awakening of Insects, then most likely the year would be one of favorable winds and timely rains.
Naturally, the present drizzle immediately drew countless cheers.
Those cheers rose from the ridged fields stretching from Sili to Qingzhou, and from the country lanes running between Jizhou and Jingyu.
Along the official road leading toward Jiangling, several riders moved slowly through the fine rain.
The rider in the lead still carried traces of youthful immaturity, yet his conduct already bore a seasoned air. At this moment he smiled and teased the companion beside him who had been lost in thought.
"Brother Shizai, could it be that you are imagining the scene of the capital at this very moment?"
The man addressed as Shizai was naturally Deng Ai. Coming back from his thoughts, he gave a helpless laugh.
"Brother Juwei, are you teasing me for not accepting General Zhao's invitation?"
Shangcai lay along the main route between Jing and Yu, beside the Ru River and near two canals that nourished tens of thousands of mu of fertile farmland. Yet the city had been taken simply because a minor agricultural officer broke open the gates. Over the past months Deng Ai would occasionally hear his own name mentioned among markets and villages.
But among the youths under Liu Bei, what fascinated them even more was Deng Ai's refusal of Zhao Yun's invitation to head north to the capital to receive recognition.
After all, which young man who dreamed of achieving merit on horseback did not wish to become someone like General Zhao?
With a hundred riders he could awe Yizhou.
With a thousand riders he could rush to relieve Jingzhou and Xiangyang.
He could slay enemy generals alone to strengthen prestige, and also lead a thousand men to trample camps and drive away bandit chiefs.
Silver saddle, white horse, a single spear proclaiming renown.
Such was the heroic image admired by young men.
For Deng Ai to say he felt no temptation would naturally be false.
Yet perhaps because he had grown up in poverty, and despite the inexplicable favor General Zhao showed him, Deng Ai had always been clear-minded when weighing great matters.
The capital of Luoyang was now a place where storms of circumstance gathered. Compared with that, what weight did his small achievement of breaking a city gate truly carry?
Rather than clinging beside General Zhao like a cicada noisily boasting of grain-sized merit, it was better to use this opportunity to complete his studies and preserve a chance to realize grand ambitions in the future.
And where should he go to pursue those studies?
In Deng Ai's heart there was almost only one answer.
Jiangling.
For Deng Ai, the years he had served in Shangcai as an agricultural officer had been years during which his understanding was repeatedly shaken.
Although the southern Jingzhou strictly controlled new laws and inventions, over several years, as the armies of Cao Cao continued to retreat, the new methods and new goods of Jiangling gradually spread north through the mouths of traveling merchants and laborers.
Deng Ai saw these changes more clearly than anyone.
Outside the city the common people praised new farm tools and agricultural techniques.
Inside the city scholars took pride in discussing engineering studies.
As for items like snow sugar and Xuan paper, although bans existed, wealthy merchants and officials took pride in eating snow sugar and writing on Xuan paper while wrapped in Shu brocade. The prohibitions had nearly become empty words.
Along with these things arrived the shifting front lines between Cao and Liu.
Back then, when Cao Cao marched south with a million troops, he had been full of confidence and ambition.
Yet not even ten years had passed before he became a captive.
Thus Deng Ai naturally felt immense curiosity toward Jiangling, the source of all these transformations.
Fortunately General Zhao had been easy to negotiate with. Before heading north he wrote a letter of introduction for Deng Ai and even found him a traveling companion heading south to Jiangling.
That companion was Xiang Chong, courtesy name Juwei.
Neither had yet undergone the capping ceremony of adulthood, but Xiang Chong admired Deng Ai's courage in seizing a city gate, while Deng Ai praised Xiang Chong's eloquence. Before long they were addressing each other as brothers along the road.
Now, in response to Deng Ai's question, Xiang Chong said with longing on his face:
"How could I be teasing you, elder brother? If not for an order from my uncle, I would certainly have shamelessly followed General Zhao and gone to witness the capital of our Great Han."
Hearing this, Deng Ai felt a trace of envy.
Although he was nominally of the Deng clan of Xinye, the truth was that his father had died early and his youth had been spent in turmoil. His family had been so poor that he had needed to herd cattle to survive.
Xiang Chong, though not from the powerful families of Xiangyang, still came from a far better situation. His father and two uncles had been close as brothers. The second brother supported the family while the third, Xiang Lang, pursued study. After Xiang Lang entered official service he naturally cared for the sons of his elder brothers.
Yet such thoughts passed quickly from Deng Ai's mind.
Feeling the drizzle brush his face and seeing the joy of farmers in the fields beside the road, he said,
"Luoyang was burned by the traitor Dong, and later abandoned for years by bandits. I have heard in Shangcai that among the ruined walls there remain only two or three hundred households. Rebuilding it will require no less than three to five years. At present it surely cannot match Jiangling's prosperity."
Xiang Chong burst into laughter.
"Jiangling, Jiangling. Brother Shizai truly cannot forget Jiangling. Just wait a little longer. At our pace we will reach it in half a month."
Then he urged his horse forward and added with a grin,
"I only hope elder brother will not lose his wits in Jiangling's prosperity."
---
As they continued southward, spring grew ever more vibrant.
Deng Ai had thought Xiang Chong's words about "losing one's wits" were exaggeration. Yet before even reaching Jiangling he already felt half intoxicated.
He saw farmers swinging hoes like ranks of spears, curved ploughs like chariots of war. Sweat poured like rain as ten thousand men shouted together, battling the spring ploughing.
He saw waterwheels turning day and night like grinding mills, driving hundreds of workshops and thousands of craftsmen as countless goods were produced.
He saw waterways and roads linking every direction. Oars and paddles sounded in endless harmony. Boats arrived in fleets. Light carriages flowed through the streets. Tower ships passed the markets. Wu dialect murmured softly while official speech rang loudly.
Such sights were unimaginable in the north.
Even his familiar hometown of Xinye now seemed strange to Deng Ai. The number of boats before his eyes far exceeded those of the past, and the markets had grown beyond anything Xinye had once possessed.
Xiang Chong did not think much of it.
"Now that Lord Xuande has destroyed the state traitor, the northern lands of the Central Plains are pacified. Merchants are all heading north to seek profit."
Deng Ai nodded silently.
Having served for several years as an agricultural officer, he was not like pedantic scholars who raged whenever merchants pursued profit. Because of the stutter he had suffered since childhood, he had long formed the habit of speaking little and observing much.
Although the passing merchants seemed excessive, he believed that with the benevolence of Lord Xuande and the wisdom of his advisers, they would never allow merchants to monopolize profit to the point that the people died.
Because of everything he had seen along the road, the prosperity of Jiangling did not overwhelm him as Xiang Chong had feared.
After indulging his eyes for half an hour, Deng Ai took out the letter written by General Zhao and asked Xiang Chong where he should go to find Lord Jiang.
"Brother Shizai seeks the prefect? Then we travel the same way. But do you not wish to look a little longer at Jiangling?"
Deng Ai shook his head.
"Prosperity is admirable, yet it is not my purpose. I wish to learn the method behind this prosperity. It is the method of enriching the people."
Xiang Chong admired precisely this quality in Deng Ai.
"One day Brother Shizai will surely become a worthy minister of the Great Han."
Deng Ai merely smiled faintly.
Yet before turning away he glanced once more at the merchants filling the streets speaking Wu dialect. Suddenly a thought appeared in his mind.
The Cao clan had already fallen.
What then of Jiangdong?
If Jiangling was like this, Jiangdong surely could not remain united in heart.