The cold wind blew the earth, shaking the grass stems in the fields. The sky was gloomy and the floating soil flew, forming tiny tornados. The farmer of Bailai raised his hands to cover the thorny tide and carried the farm tools to move among the pits.

This winter is particularly cold, and the frost goddess's anger is getting stronger and stronger day by day. But the sky has never snowed. This is the worst situation, which means that next spring there will be a lack of water for the melting snow.

The farmers' faces and hands were covered with oil to prevent their skin from drying out. However, their exposed skin was still red with redness. Many people had frostbite, swollen like carrots.

"Just work."

When we arrived at the site, the foreman came out to divide the tasks.

"We must dig a 50-meter ditches today, and the amount of soil cannot be reduced at all. By the spring next year, this wasteland can be watered and planted with more grain."

The farmers wore tattered but thick clothes, with a sad face but a calm expression. There was no wasteland under their feet, and there were bumps and rocks mixed with them.

This is not a good field, it can be seen everywhere in the north, and even weeds cannot grow. It takes a lot of effort to reclaim it into farmland. The first thing is to dig irrigation ditches.

"Let's start. Everyone drinks a sip first, it's convenient to have strength." The foreman took off a tin pot from his waist and poured a big sip into his mouth. The farmers also drank it.

After drinking, they screamed, and were so hot that they were sweating profusely by the pot of the tin pot. Their dark faces became rosy, and even their wrinkled foreheads stretched a little.

"Work, work, praise Victor Hugo, we will live a good life." The foreman shouted.

The farmers also echoed one after another, and shouts rang out in the fields. People praised them from the bottom of their hearts, hoping that their lords would live for a long time and lead them all the time.

A heavy carriage followed the farmers. The carriage contained lignite dug out of the black forest, from the terrible voodoo swamp.

That damn swamp is a big coal pool with all kinds of terrible monsters living in it. But now Hanfeng City needs coal, so groups of coal miners pour into the swamp.

Workers built houses, built villages, built forts, dug drainage ditches and rivers, and dried up water from the swamp to facilitate excavation of open-air lignite.

Monsters have lived in the voodoo swamp for less than a thousand years and hundreds of years. For the first time, they discovered that humans are not only not afraid of themselves, but also come to transform the environment in which they live.

Is a swamp without water or a swamp?

Groups of monsters attacked the human villages crazily. Both sides fought with their teeth, claws, venom, swords and axes, crossbows, torches, and all weapons they could use.

Hundreds of human reclamators died. But they continued to come one after another, and were even more terrifying than the goblins in the Black Forest. They were equipped, organized, and disciplined, and forced the monsters living in the swamps to move.

The monsters don’t understand what’s going on. They only know that there is less and less water in the swamp, and their living environment is getting worse and worse. If they don’t escape, they will be extinct.

In the winter of the first year of the New Calendar in the North, Hanfeng City sent more than 3,000 people to the Black Forest to dig coal. Hundreds of heavy-duty carriages transported the coal out every day.

The city is considering laying wooden rails with larger transportation volumes, and humans have begun to use cheap coal in production and life.

The farmland to be reclaimed has been drawn with lime. Farmers first lay dry firewood at the ditches, ignite it, and then shovel the coal with a shovel. The hard ground will be burned soft before it can be dug.

The fire lights up and the cold wind becomes stronger.

The farmers only felt warm all over. They had to move quickly and had explosive power, digging one meter wide and half a meter deep before the ground was frozen again.

This is a hard work, but the farmers in Hanfeng City rushed to do it, even without paying, just keeping the meal. Because every extra acre of farmland can be reclaimed, one more acre of grain can be harvested, and the food that can be eaten in the stomach will be richer.

This is nothing in the past.

Over the past six months, the residents of Hanfeng City have been full of enthusiasm for work. They have undergone a great change in their thinking from the initial resistance to the gradual acceptance, and then to the proactive demand.

Everything comes from the unimaginable harvest this fall.

Fuqiangling started to renovate farmland and cultivate farmers since last winter. Because the weather in the north was cold, they could only grow wheat for one season. It was not until this autumn that people saw the fruits of their hard work.

In the gentle autumn wind, the golden wheat waves connect the sky and the earth, and there is no sight at all. The residents of the city come out to see the wonders and sigh at this grand event that they have never seen in their lives. They lingered by the wheat fields and prayed devoutly to the heavy wheat ears.

Grain, grain, grain, and the northern land are always short of grain and have always been purchased from the south. However, the grain purchased by the nobles will never be given to the bottom, and there is no charity at all.

Every winter, people starve to death in all cities in the north. This is not only the tragedy that the poorest class has to face, but also the middle class.

Except for a few nobles, the mortality rate of ordinary people is too high. In the years of famine, some villages will suddenly turn silently into death.

And this year...

"Praise the Lord Victor Hugo."

A farmer waved his hoe to dig, shouting from time to time, as if he was shouting labor slogans. Other farmers were cheerful when they listened, and occasionally shouted, and after that, they felt as if they were full of strength.

Lord Hugo actually did nothing. He just eradicated the aristocratic class of the past and took out the grain he had originally hoarded for reproduction. He fed the workers, reclaimed more farmland, planted more grain, and fed more people.

The lord did not even have any land, and all the land in the entire Hanfeng City belonged to him. But he signed a formal labor agreement with the farmers, and he provided agricultural tools, seeds, fertilizers, and farmland water conservancy in exchange for 30% of the harvest in the fields.

If a famine occurs, the rent can be reduced.

The Harmonious Chamber of Commerce provides low-interest loans, allowing tenants to purchase goods for production and life in advance, allowing them to choose their careers freely, allowing them to have personal rights, and giving them and their future generations the opportunity to receive education.

It's that simple, there is no big reason, and it can't be done if there are too many.

In the past, most of the farmers in Hanfeng City depended on nobles at all levels. The nobles never cared about the organizational management of farmland reclaiming, and just collected taxes like knocking bones and marrow.

In contrast, the farmers who were liberated and free were determined to follow Mr. Hugo and showed a strong enthusiasm for production.

The Lord hired farmers to work, and they would bring their own food, even for wages. They knew very well that every time they dug a ditch, they would benefit themselves.

Last year, these farmers were reluctant to work in the fields this year.

They went out early in the morning, braved the cold wind to the ditches construction site, and ate lunch by the field pit. The hard bread was roasted on the fire and ate it into their stomachs with physical medicine.

It was until dark in the afternoon, and the farmers carried hoes and sang songs home. They continued to come out until dawn tomorrow, and it continued again, which was simple and boring, but they would not stop for the whole winter.

Last year, Fuqiang inherited refugees and reclaimed 7,000 acres of land. This year, Hanfeng City organized more than 50,000 laborers to reconcile the farmland of the old nobles.

According to the Lord's plan, the sowing area of ​​wheat in the spring of the third year of the Xinli calendar will exceed 80,000 mu, which will basically ensure that nearly 300,000 people in Hanfeng City can eat half full.
Chapter completed!