Munitions Empire

The atmosphere in the office was quite nice, and the rain falling outside was irrelevant to the dryness within the room. The streams of water on the window ledge and the hot tea in the cup complemented each other, one cold and the other warm. Despite the numerous tasks, more than triple the usual amount, being able to sit in the room handling official business in such weather was actually a very comfortable matter indeed. This was just an inconspicuous little office in the hinterlands of the Great Tang, where a minor administrative officer worked. There were several levels of administrative officers in the Great Tang Kingdom, with some for small towns and others for large cities, each responsible for different areas. Above the city administrators, there were higher-level chief administrators who also called themselves administrators, though their administrative rank was much greater. Over an entire region, there would be even higher-level officials—traditional grand chancellors—competent and diligent officials of the King, ruling over their respective domains. "The 20th flood crest has already passed, and the levees within our jurisdiction are still solid," the administrative officer nodded with satisfaction upon reading the contents of the report. This signified that his work, during the period of the flood, was comparatively decent. The troops were still stationed on the levee, the common people were returning to their homes, the rainfall was gradually lessening, and everything seemed to be returning to normal. Then, he would need to organize manpower to rebuild the levee, clear the roads, and restore destroyed homes, and while at it, plant some crops that could mitigate losses. Each task was a challenge for him, each required his command to execute, and all were crucial to the economic recovery of a region—no detail could be overlooked. While the troops were still there, he should make full use of this free labor force, and there should be no problem with them helping to restore the electricity before they departed. After all, these troops had been stationed here for a while, and the common people trusted them greatly, and the soldiers had also received much kindness from the people. Whenever the troops were busy on the levee, the common people were responsible for cooking and delivering water; the relationship between them was already deeply symbiotic, and fixing a few power lines was certainly a minor issue. Once electricity was restored in the small town, the school could resume its classes. With the school taking in students, the town's human resources could be freed up to resume production. These were all top-priority matters; as long as people started to work and resume production, the local cement factory could begin operation. The cement produced would speed up the repair of the levee and the construction of houses. After a virtuous cycle was established, the entire town would recover from the floods' devastation, and then they could help the surrounding villages. A chain of interconnected tasks, all required his arrangement, so he picked up the official seal in front of him and affixed his official stamp on a plan. "Administrator Sir!" A subordinate knocked and entered, speaking somewhat awkwardly as he greeted, not quite knowing how to start. "Speak your mind," said the young administrator as he began reading the second report, pondering whether purchasing thirty trucks would fit into the subsequent reconstruction plan, and he instructed. The person hesitated briefly, then reported, "A vicious brawl has broken out in the town." "They've come to blows? What happened? Why?" The administrator lifted his head, looking at his subordinate with a worried expression. The current disaster had not fully passed, and such a malignant incident happening at a time of national crisis was indeed troublesome for him. The subordinate immediately explained, "Here's what happened. Somehow, a group of about a dozen vagrants in the square started proclaiming that because the King is incompetent and indulges in luxury and brutality, the gods sent down calamities to punish the country." "What?" The administrator was stunned, then quickly realized the situation was not as simple as it had been portrayed. As expected, the subordinate continued, "An old woman passing by couldn't stand to listen and questioned where these strangers were from. They didn't answer her and just repeated that it was divine punishment upon Tang Country and that the calamity and wars would stop only if the King's brutal rule was overthrown." "This is premeditated spreading of rumors…" The young administrator stood up, his face darkening, and said, "Where are these people now?" "The old woman wouldn't have it; during the flood, she was carried to safety by our soldiers. Her house collapsed, and she is currently living in a tent provided by our National Defense Army," the subordinate continued. "And then she started to make a fuss." "Once the old lady began to fuss, her neighbors and fellow villagers gathered around. After hearing her out, everyone started to argue vociferously that His Majesty is unparalleled in benevolence, and that escalated into a dispute," he finished, spreading his hands, "And as the argument went on, the people of our town… well, they are not very articulate…" Right, it was conceivable. Ever since he took charge of the town, he discovered that the people of Zheng Country were indeed simple and honest, stubbornly rational, unquestionably the best people in the world. Being inarticulate, one feels they never out-argued the opponent, and not out-arguing someone seems like a loss. Feeling the loss, it doesn't seem in character for Tang People to not reclaim it, so using some traditional methods to determine the winner is absolutely understandable. "Our people didn't suffer any losses, right?" The governor raised an eyebrow, his first question not about any illegal matters. It can't be helped, the folks are simple and honest, and it's all due to his capable guidance. "How could that happen, we only sent out five guys against their fifteen, and in a few moves, all the opponents were down on the ground..." His subordinate beamed with pride, evidently a straightforward fellow himself. The diet of the Tang People had improved, with three meals a day, and recently they even got all kinds of canned fruit and lunchmeat from the military supplies; their hard work in farming and emergency situations truly toughened them up. In other countries, these brawny farmers and workers would definitely be excellent candidates for soldiers, but in Tang Country, they were just the average men. If you say one can fight several, it might be a bit of an exaggeration, but it's basic operations for one to take on two from another country, nothing to brag about. "Five?" The governor's tone became stern, as if he felt they were understaffed and worried about being at a disadvantage. "Yes, just five. The hundred or so who rushed up later could only be knocked to the ground; several shoes were even lost, those who were slow didn't get a chance to join in." His subordinate shook his head regretfully. "No one died, right?" The governor's attitude shifted at once, a mix of satisfaction and a touch of concern, as if he was worried that a case of manslaughter in his jurisdiction would be inappropriate. "How could that be. Our town is simple and honest, everyone is a decent literate person in ordinary days." His subordinate replied earnestly: "Although they look a bit rough, I assure you, they were all still breathing." Only then did the governor relax, and he instructed, "Keep a close eye on it; don't cause any trouble. Hand it over to the security department for investigation, get every detail clear, Your Majesty's reputation must not be tarnished!" "Understood!" the man nodded slightly, then left the office. ... On the river dike, in the drizzle, a man disguised as a homeless vagabond sidled up to a group of bare-chested men taking a rest. He looked around and whispered to a man who looked drowsy from exhaustion, "Were you forced to work here as labor? Let me tell you... this Tang Country, everything's backwards, the King is simply no good..." The man raised an eyebrow upon hearing this and looked at the other, revealing a strange smile on his face: "Go on, tell me more..." The slanderer, just having started his criticisms with great zest, soon realized that he was surrounded by a group of men with peculiar smiles on their faces. They were all bare-chested, wearing thick orange vests, their muscles constantly twitching; other than the rushing water of the river and the sound of rain, everything was hauntingly silent. "Bury him?" A lieutenant looked at the major beside him, who finally couldn't help but burst into laughter: "This is the first time I've seen such bravery. Alright, let's oblige him, bury him." "You, you! What are you, what are you going to do!" The man panicked, questioning loudly. "So you die with full knowledge, we are the National Defense Army from the 1st Battalion of the 7th Motorized Infantry Division, not any labor workers." A soldier said with a smile as he stepped forward, his muscular build quite intimidating. "Fight!" It wasn't clear who shouted, but then there was the muffled sound of fists hitting a face, and the man didn't even get the chance to cry for help before he was pinned down in the mud by a group of men. "Well done, I've never seen such a shameless fellow before!" An old local who came to bring water, while handing a canteen to a soldier, spoke out. "You haven't seen one before? What about a few years back when someone came here insulting Zheng Tong, were you that furious?" The soldier asked, chuckling as he drank. The old man shook his head and also laughed: "How could that be, ten years ago someone cursed Zheng Tong in front of me, and we all joined in. But our King, Your Majesty, is different, he's a good king! Us common folk, we pray morning and evening, hoping that His Majesty will ascend to the throne." "It's only a matter of time," the soldier finished the hot water in the canteen and handed it back to the old man: "Thank you, grandpa." "Hey! You don't need to be so formal, you all came to help us, this old man is grateful! Come back and chat. I'm going to take water to those lads; fighting is exhausting, they need to rest..." The old man waved his hands and descended from the dike carrying a carrying pole. While walking, he called out: "Hey there, lads! Take a break, take a break! Let this old man get a few kicks in for fun, take a little rest, have a drink of water, there's no rush to continue fighting!"