Chapter 52: The First Signs of Success

Next, Liu Xie was about to begin his true demonstration.

“Put this thing in the well,” he instructed. “And the rest of you, head to the river and fetch water.”

The villagers looked bewildered. “Young Master Liu, do you really want us to fetch water?”

He nodded, and they hesitated. “Young Master, you must know, the nearest river is more than ten kilometers away from here.”

Indeed, the task seemed daunting. Carrying water from so far away was no small feat.

“It’s alright, I have a plan,” Liu Xie replied with confidence. “Now, bring out all your ox carts and horse-drawn wagons from home. Come with me to the river to fetch water.”

At his command, a dozen villagers returned home and soon came back driving their donkey carts, ox carts, and any other vehicles they had. Liu Xie also enlisted Zhang Xiu, instructing him to bring out many of the army’s carts and drive them all to the riverside.

Meanwhile, he gathered several carpenters from the army and had them construct a large water storage barrel out of planks. The inside was lined with iron sheets to make it watertight. Thus, they had quickly fashioned a simple, if rather unsightly, water tank on wheels. But appearance was of little importance—efficiency was what Liu Xie needed. Besides, he didn’t intend for it to be a long-term solution.

Soon, dozens of wagons lined up by the river, filling their makeshift tanks with water and hauling it all back to the site of the ongoing well-digging.

“Pour the water in and turn the wooden rod,” Liu Xie directed.

The villagers poured the vast quantities of water they had brought into the well. Then, they began rotating the long wooden rod that had been placed inside.

“Young Master Liu, what’s the point of this?” asked one curious villager.

Liu Xie smiled faintly. “Just because people can’t reach the depths doesn’t mean nothing else can. Pouring water down—what do you think will happen at the bottom?”

The villagers pondered his words. “You’re saying, pour water down and use the long rod to stir, so the earth at the bottom will turn to slurry?”

They weren’t fools, and quickly deduced the principle.

Exactly—this was Liu Xie’s method. Where hands could not reach, tools would suffice. Pour in enough water, stir it up, and the soil and sublayer below would become a muddy slurry.

“But how do we get the slurry back up?” another villager inquired.

“What do you think?” Liu Xie asked with a smile.

They exchanged glances, and realization dawned.

“Oh! I get it now!”

At last, they understood. Now that the bottom was a muddy slurry, they could simply lower a bucket on a rope and haul it up, just like drawing water.

Grasping both Liu Xie’s meaning and the workings of their tools, their enthusiasm soared. Although progress might be slow, the hope of success galvanized them, and the well steadily grew deeper. The depth was easy to see by how far the wooden rod had to reach as they worked.

After some time—when the well had gone down over thirty meters—something changed.

“Wait,” said one, “quiet, everyone, quiet!”

He pressed his ear to the edge of the well, listening intently.

“Water! I hear water!”

“Yes, I hear it too—it’s water! We’ve struck water!”

Once it was certain, elation swept over everyone. A dozen villagers cheered and celebrated around the well, rejoicing at the first well they had dug.

Liu Xie did not disturb their celebration. It was a moment of great achievement for them—and a breakthrough for him as well. For the first time, he had applied knowledge from the twenty-first century and succeeded. This was his first true victory, and he was elated.

“Alright, our work isn’t finished yet. Let’s keep digging,” Liu Xie said with a smile.

“But, Young Master Liu, there’s already water—why dig further?” they asked, puzzled.

“True, we’ve hit water, but it isn’t yet of good quality. Water from a deep well is much better. Let’s work hard and finish before sunset. Tonight, I’ll treat everyone to a feast,” he promised, still smiling.

At the mention of a meal, spirits lifted even higher. “Alright! We’ll keep digging and finish before dark!”

They threw themselves back into their work.

In fact, the ease with which things progressed was a pleasant surprise to Liu Xie. He had expected it to take at least five or six days to reach water, but the situation was far better than he’d hoped. There were no rocks underground, and although there had been a severe drought for almost a year, Nanyang had long been a region of abundant rainfall. The deeper they dug, the moister and softer the soil became—making the digging easier.

Thus, in a single day, they achieved what would have once seemed impossible.

As dusk fell and the last glimmers of light faded, their work was finally done.

“Fifty meters, Young Master Liu! We’ve reached fifty meters, and there’s even more water below!”

The villagers were visibly excited. A dozen of them dropped to their knees before Liu Xie.

“Young Master Liu, thank you! Thank you for giving us hope, thank you!”

At first, they’d doubted the well could be completed. But now, in just one day, they’d succeeded. To them, as long as they had a well and water, they could farm their land.

“Please, you flatter me. Who knows, I might need your help someday. We still have much to do together, so let’s keep working hard,” Liu Xie said, helping them to their feet with a smile.

“Don’t worry, Young Master Liu. From now on, we’ll do whatever you say. We’re with you all the way!”

Liu Xie believed them. For people who had been desperate, if you could give them hope, they would follow you without reservation.

“Alright, let’s go back and eat!” Liu Xie called cheerfully.

At the promise of food, the excitement in the crowd was palpable. Liu Xie led them to the Inspector’s Residence, where he set out a sumptuous feast.

“From today on, as long as you’re willing to work, you’ll eat your fill every day. When things get better, this will be your daily life,” he encouraged them at the table.

Meanwhile, Zhang Xiu posted a notice: those who worked would receive food; those who did not would go hungry.

Soon, a crowd gathered outside the Inspector’s Residence. They had expected the government to distribute grain as before, but apart from the guards at the gate, there was nothing—and the tantalizing aroma of food drifting from within nearly drove them mad with hunger.

After a long time, Liu Xie and a dozen villagers emerged from the residence. Seeing them, the crowd grew anxious.

“I told you all yesterday,” Liu Xie announced, “if you want to fill your bellies, you’ll have to rely on yourselves. Yes, the government does have grain, but we can’t feed you forever. The food I give you is an opportunity—to farm with me. But if you’re not willing to try, how can you expect others to help?”

He turned to the dozen villagers behind him. “Tell them what we did today.”

One of them spoke up. “Look, I don’t know what you’re thinking. Young Master Liu is doing all this for our sake. You don’t know—we dug a well today. Now we can farm again.”

They took turns recounting the day’s events, and the rest stared in astonishment at Lin Xiao.

“There is still a chance,” Liu Xie went on. “If you want to eat—if you want to eat your fill—start working with me tomorrow.”

He had given them another chance, and hope stirred in their hearts. With an opportunity before them, how could they not seize it?

The crowd dispersed, but Liu Xie did not feed them. He needed them to understand that only by relying on themselves could they truly escape their plight.

Another night passed.

As Liu Xie had expected, the next morning found an enormous crowd gathered at the Inspector’s gates—by rough estimate, at least a thousand people, with more arriving by the hour.

Liu Xie was pleased, but Zhang Xiu was worried.

“Young Master, our grain stores are running low. If this keeps up, even more people will come. At this rate, our food will last no more than twenty days,” Zhang Xiu reported.

Liu Xie shared his concern. Grain had become their greatest problem. In a few months, there would be plenty, but how could they survive the current crisis?

“No matter. In a few days, I’ll stir things up again,” Liu Xie mused.

So far, the Liu family in Wancheng had yet to act. For years, they had amassed enormous stores of grain. For now, Liu Xie could only focus on leading the people to reclaim land and sow crops.

By midday, nearly two thousand people had gathered, all assembled on the wasteland.

After careful organization, the dozen from the previous day led groups to dig wells in different locations, while the rest began tilling the soil.

The land was wild and overgrown with stones and weeds. Turning it into fertile farmland would require considerable preparation.

But with so many hands, and Liu Xie personally directing the work, progress accelerated rapidly.

Six days passed.

Where once there had been only desolation, there now stood more than a dozen deep wells. All debris had been cleared, the earth had been loosened, and all the seeds had been sown.

There was water, there were fields, there were seeds.

Now, all they could do was wait for the harvest in a few months’ time.

But just then, Liu Xie faced a new crisis.

Their food supply had run out.