Chapter 195: Promotion

With the completion of this census, the population under Rongning’s rule reached over fourteen thousand, fulfilling the requirements of the second and third tiers of the [Population Prosperity] achievement—five thousand and ten thousand souls respectively.

Just as he had previously secured two [Wealth Abounds] achievements in one go, Rongning now received dual rewards in a single stroke.

As the two lines of prompt text vanished from his vision, his attribute points increased by 250, and his energy essences by 500.

He did not immediately check his status panel, but instead carefully turned the parchment in his hands, reading through the compiled data.

In terms of demographic structure, Marsh Town shared commonalities with Forest Town—those over fifty years of age accounted for less than five percent, while those under thirty made up nearly sixty percent.

Clearly, the population of Marsh Town remained healthy and vibrant.

He believed that with sufficient grain supply and incentives for childbirth, the population here would surely grow.

Moreover, in terms of status and occupation, there were few serfs in Marsh Town; the vast majority were free tenant farmers, with a smaller portion consisting of free citizens.

Yet regardless of status, all who lived here were bound to their lord. Among them were farmers, herders, hunters, and many others—diverse in vocation.

With the population growing, so too did the number of skilled carpenters and masons.

“Wilson, there are several tasks you must undertake.”

Wilson sat upright, rigid with deference. “My lord, speak—I shall do my utmost.”

“First, gather these carpenters and assign them collectively to the Ironwood Workshop. Accelerate the production of ironwood weapons and armor. The order from Wushan Fortress expires in three months—I will not tolerate delays.”

“Second, deploy these masons as well. Forest Town, Ash Soil Village, and Black Soil Village will be the focal points of future development. Their populations will swell; more dwellings must be built.”

“Lastly, allocate some of these clay-workers to Jim. The ceramics workshop will be a key pillar of our future. Also, consolidate the blacksmiths. Much of Ubei’s land awaits cultivation—we must accelerate production of the curved-plow and farming tools.”

More people meant greater strength only when unified under coordinated effort.

Wilson noted each instruction carefully. Yet the thought of uprooting these people from their ancestral homes troubled him. “My lord, what if some are reluctant to leave for Forest Town or other villages?”

Rongning raised an eyebrow. “I provide them wages, food, and shelter—what reason have they to refuse? Tell them: serve me faithfully, and I shall grant them land.”

A serf who labored diligently for ten years earned ten mu of land—a policy established long ago, still valid here.

And in Marsh Town, where arable land was scarce, the value of land to these people was self-evident.

Now their lord offered them a path to owning it—this was a gift beyond measure.

Wilson nodded swiftly. “They will be eternally grateful for your benevolence.”

Benevolence? Perhaps not. It was merely giving them a goal to strive toward.

After all, even when land was granted, ownership still rested with Rongning alone. The only difference was that farmers could till it freely and pay slightly less grain.

“The spring plowing is nearly upon us.”

Rongning turned to Wilson and his five assistants, beginning to outline the spring planting plan.

First, all sixty thousand mu of land in Marsh Town must be sown. Before planting, peat must be mined to replenish soil fertility.

Fertilizing tens of thousands of mu was a monumental undertaking. Soon, nearly every able-bodied laborer—except those tending livestock—would be mobilized.

But for Rongning, whether Ubei would feed itself this year hinged entirely on this spring’s labor. No amount of manpower was too great.

After plowing came land reclamation. Rongning planned to divide Marsh Town into several villages, each forming its own reclamation team.

Rewards would be given to outstanding villages and individuals based on the land they brought under cultivation—this would further ignite the people’s zeal for developing the domain.

“Wilson, do you recall the ‘Chief Administrator’ I mentioned to you before?”

Wilson’s breath caught, then quickened.

He remembered clearly: the lord had promised that once the affairs of the northern barbarian tribes were settled and officials appointed, he would be named Chief Administrator.

But now circumstances had changed. The lord’s domain no longer merely encompassed the barbarian tribes—it now included Marsh Town.

At this thought, Wilson’s gaze grew feverish.

Rongning smiled. “Congratulations, Wilson. From this moment, you are Chief Administrator of Ubei.”

Since becoming an administrator, Wilson had not always excelled—but he had always met Rongning’s demands.

And as his administrative skills sharpened, he had not grown complacent; rather, he had grown more eager.

Such attitude deserved recognition.

With both attitude and competence aligned, promoting Wilson posed no issue.

“Thank you, my lord!”

Wilson wept with joy, dropping to one knee in fervent loyalty.

From administrator to Chief Administrator, the salary quintupled—but more importantly, he had been acknowledged, a sign that greater heights awaited him.

His promotion immediately stirred envy among his five assistants. Their master, their teacher, had been elevated—when would it be their turn?

Rongning smiled faintly. Promotion was meant to inspire.

He turned to the assistants. “With Wilson’s elevation, positions of administrator will open in Forest Town, Marsh Town, and the other villages. These are your opportunities.”

The assistants’ hearts leapt. Indeed, this was opportunity.

And in time, as Ubei grew into a powerful domain, with several towns as populous as Marsh Town, Rongning would need to appoint officials for commerce, taxation, finance, and more.

This young land teemed with promise—now it remained to be seen whether these young assistants could seize it.

Rongning continued instructing Wilson and the others on the coordinated efforts for spring planting and land reclamation.

“That will be all for today. Should anything arise, come to me at once.”

Rongning waved them off, then picked up the parchment beside him. “Also, tomorrow morning, summon a man named Pearson to see me.”

On the parchment, clear and bold, it read: Pearson, leader of Marsh Town’s caravan.

Rongning could, of course, rely on the Ironhoof family’s caravans from Mu Ma City to sell ironwood weapons—and later silk and porcelain.

But that did not mean he needed no caravan of his own.

On the contrary, should Ubei’s commerce truly flourish, owning his own caravan would become essential.

To build a caravan, one needed men who understood trade—not farmers who could only till the soil. Sending such men to sell goods would be folly; they might lose capital and still shout for someone else’s wares.

Forest Town had no such men. But Pearson of Marsh Town fit Rongning’s needs perfectly.

If Pearson possessed ability and willingness to serve, it mattered not that his caravan had once served Rayson.

After all—merchants seek profit above all else. (End of Chapter)