Chapter Sixty-Five The City of Drought

Lin Miaomiao greeted the soldiers with a smile, the festive atmosphere growing stronger as she and Li Yanhe walked together down the broad street. She watched the hurried townsfolk, the couplets and lanterns for sale along the thoroughfare. The corners of her lips curved upward; she couldn’t help but marvel in her heart that a new year was nearly upon them—how swiftly time flew.

Every winter, Li Yanhe became busy, and as snowflakes drifted down, Lin Miaomiao began to slow her pace as well. The past year had been hectic for her: designing new clothes, overseeing the finances of her factory, entertaining clients and managing orders. Yet, when winter arrived, she always chose to slow down, savoring life at a gentler rhythm—just as it should be.

On January 20th, in the thirteenth year of Yongchang, Lin Miaomiao’s factory officially closed for the holiday. As in previous years, after distributing wages to her workers, she began handing out New Year’s provisions, summoning the village butcher. She slaughtered cattle and sheep from her own farm, dividing the meat among her employees, along with pastries from her food processing plant. With these distributed, the factory was officially closed, and she began making sausages from freshly butchered pigs.

Among the women, Lin Miaomiao led the effort to clean the pig intestines, while Lin Qi, Lin Jiwang, and Li Zheng chopped the pork. Amid laughter and conversation, they finished stuffing sausages and moved on to preparing marinated dishes. When that was done, Lin Miaomiao and Cui Liu started making dumplings, as was her custom, preparing them ahead of time.

With so many people in their household, it was practical to keep dumplings ready in the makeshift fridge Lin Miaomiao had built, to cook whenever needed. After these preparations, she cleaned the fish for dinner—they would have spicy boiled fish that night.

Despite sweating profusely from the heat, everyone enjoyed the meal, laughing and eating heartily. Li Zheng, who had been living with Lin Miaomiao for several months, was gaining weight rapidly. Seeing this, Lin Miaomiao teased, “Can you manage? You don’t even have a wife yet, and you’re already so fat. How will you find one in the future?”

Li Zheng was a little annoyed by her words and, from then on, joined Lin Langluan and Lin Langze in morning boxing sessions.

One day, Lin Miaomiao noticed Li Yanhe’s pallor as he packed some clothes and departed; she sensed the year would not be peaceful. Watching him leave, she felt an inexplicable reluctance and hurried over to give him a tight embrace.

For a brief moment, Li Yanhe’s heart softened, and the two stood in each other’s arms at the doorway under a gray sky. Lin Miaomiao watched him depart until he disappeared from view. Li Zheng, seeing her dejected mood, noticed that she had lost all motivation.

She sat quietly in a corner, forgoing even meal preparation, her spirits so low that she retreated to her room. Lying in bed, she drifted into sleep, and the little courtyard fell silent.

Lin Langluan and Lin Jiwang, the two children, dared not make a fuss. That year, Li Yanhe did not return, not even for New Year’s Eve.

In the winter of the fourteenth year of Yongchang, the southern barbarians invaded, their armies sweeping in; the livestock of the Hu people froze to death, and General Li Yanhe led the defense. On February 18th, the southern barbarians were repelled, and General Li Yanhe returned victorious. The Yongchang Emperor rewarded him generously.

Li Yanhe gazed at the awards and sighed. Lin Miaomiao, seeing his gaunt figure, felt a pang of sorrow. He had looked nothing like this when he left. She sighed and quietly went to prepare chicken soup for him.

Though the factory had just reopened and business was busy, Lin Qi, as general manager, had taken charge. Lin Miaomiao brought the soup to Li Yanhe, who sipped it and looked at her.

Seeing her pouting unhappily beside him, Li Yanhe laughed and said, “What’s with that pout? You could hang an oil bottle from your lips.”

Lin Miaomiao could only sigh helplessly and replied, “I just feel sorry for you.”

Her words made Li Yanhe smile, and for the next week, Lin Miaomiao made chicken soup for him daily, devoting all her culinary skills to nourishing him. Li Yanhe was both amused and moved as he drank her unique, heartfelt soup.

For the first time in years, Li Yanhe felt the illusion of being cared for. Since birth, he had never known freedom. His birth coincided with the Empress competing with his mother to see who could bear the crown prince first. From infancy, his father placed high expectations upon him, and at fourteen, he took command at Da’an Pass.

He could not recall when people had stopped caring about him. Now, with Lin Miaomiao at his side, he found it a pleasant change.

Lin Miaomiao hadn’t been to the factory recently; the next day, she arrived to find Liu Qiang outside with a sign reading, “All goods sold at low prices.” Seeing Liu Qiang’s sign, she raised her eyebrows, immediately noticing that some of her customers were drawn to his cheaper merchandise.

Recognizing Liu Qiang’s deliberate price war, she gave a sardonic smile. Her carriage stopped in front of her factory, and she told Lin Qi, “If Liu Qiang wants a price war, let him have it.”

She continued, “From now on, our old customers won’t have to queue for goods; they’ll get first pick of our new inventory. Those who’ve been away too long will be treated as new customers.”

Lin Qi smiled at her words. Merchants always chase profit, and cheap goods would attract them. But they would still return for Lin Miaomiao’s new products, so her orders would not diminish. If Liu Qiang persisted, he’d only harm himself.

Liu Qiang wouldn’t gain much, since Lin Miaomiao’s factories were numerous and always had new products, whereas Liu Qiang produced items she had invented long ago.

Lin Miaomiao toured the factory, inspected the workshops, and, finding no issues, departed. She then studied the geography of the fifteen border cities and realized the land there was unsuitable for farming.

The crops simply couldn’t survive. Instead, she set her sights on Drought City, famed for its arid conditions. She shared her plans with Li Yanhe and entrusted all factory affairs to Lin Qi.

After packing her belongings, Lin Miaomiao and Li Yanhe rode by carriage to Drought City. Lin Langluan and Lin Langze, seeing her depart, wanted to follow, but a single glance from Li Yanhe made them abandon the idea.

Li Zheng took over Li Yanhe’s teaching duties, but Lin Langluan and Lin Langze remained unable to pursue their studies.

It took Lin Miaomiao and Li Yanhe five days to reach Drought City. Upon arrival, she felt the place was desolate—the land was nothing but sand, utterly unfit for crops, and even the barbarians frequented it.

She saw vast stretches of barren land and thought that sandy soil was perfect for growing watermelons. She asked Li Yanhe, “Have you ever tasted watermelon?”

Li Yanhe paused, then replied, “What is that?”

She explained, “It’s a fruit with a green rind and red flesh inside.”

He pondered her description and after a while said, “I’ve tasted it—it was a tribute from a small barbarian kingdom.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Can you find a way to get some watermelon?”

Li Yanhe nodded, “I can try.”

Her purse was full of silver. Together, they went to the county office, where she bought five hundred acres of sandy land.

Li Yanhe was startled by her bold purchase, wondering if she was a fool. Sensing his incredulous look, she said, “If I manage to grow watermelons and bring them to the capital, won’t they sell like hotcakes?”

She grinned like a shrewd merchant. After buying the land, they wandered the city, noting its impoverished soil and poor terrain.

She saw the local farmers, pitiful in their tattered clothing, gaunt and skeletal. Lin Miaomiao walked quietly behind Li Yanhe, unnerved by the hungry looks in their eyes.

The city walls were broken and battered, making the place resemble not a city, but a vast refugee settlement.

Surveying the scene, Lin Miaomiao suddenly thought of twenty-first century watermelon farms. On the way back, she said to Li Yanhe, “Should we ask the court to rebuild the city walls here?”

“I’ll figure out how to cultivate watermelons, then distribute seeds to the poor, teach them how to sprout them.”

“We could promote the idea, inviting the wealthy to rent plots for planting. The money from renting would go to these people, and all the watermelons grown would belong to them.”

“They could ride in carriages and enjoy picking watermelons,” she mused, then realized the plan might not be so practical after all.