Chapter 2: First Harvest

Spring came late to Yanshui, but it came. The veterans traded spears for plows, and the town watched the exiled lord walk the fields at dawn like a man counting heartbeats.

When the first wagon of grain rolled through the gate, no one cheered. Hunger had taught the town to wait until the grain was in the jars.

Wei Yuan recorded the harvest in his ledger, down to the last bushel. Under the final line he wrote a single sentence: what is counted, survives.