Yang Jian, dressed in wide robes with long sleeves, wearing wooden clogs, stood at the entrance of a humble countryside courtyard, gazing out at the scene beyond.
Before him was a river channel clearly dug by human hands that flowed from north to south, with two rows of willow trees along the banks dividing the vast farmland into two halves.
On the west side lay fields held by the Wei commandery’s various gentry families and local strongmen, while on the east side were the farmlands belonging to common folk — lands originally granted to the soldiers who followed Shi Le during his time.
Further away were several orchards.
Between each orchard grew waist-high wormwood grass, the land desolate and deserted.
This was Ye City, the most bustling place in Hebei, yet it looked like this.
From early morning, a crowd of ragged people had already entered this wilderness, swinging their sickles like crescent moons, cutting the wormwood grass down continuously, tying bundles and hauling them away.
The courtyard where Yang Jian resided had already received plenty of thatch grass — some had been transported into the fodder granary, while other bundles were still drying in the open.
This residence was the place that Yang Dan owned in Ye City.
It was not large, only four courtyards front and back.