Simple ideas often mean the lowest requirements.

The reason why we put forward the minimum requirements is often out of helplessness.

The family wants some land, just to have enough food and clothing.

But in the face of the aristocratic families who are so greedy that they even want to embezzle the country's farmland, how difficult is it to meet the people's minimum requirements?

Feng Junhou squatted on the old farmer's field, feeling a little depressed. After a while, he continued:

"I heard that the Wei people started farming decades ago. They not only recruited farmers to cultivate the fields, but also rented out seeds, cattle, plows and other equipment."

"Isn't this a good thing? Why does my father-in-law say that he can't even get enough to eat?"

The old farmer smiled, not sure whether it was a sneer or a sneer.

"Lang Jun, when Cao A'man started to farm, do you know what he did in the first place?"

"I don't know."

The old farmer smiled again:

"Do you know that he originally wanted to spend his time cultivating wasteland? At the beginning, he was interested in small families with land and fields."

"If you want to return everyone's land to the commonwealth, let us farm it for them."

The old farmer sighed:

"At that time, anyone who had a little bit of land at home was in a state of panic."

"Fortunately, the thief Cao later saw that people's hearts were unstable, so he ordered to stop expropriating the land, and then recruited refugees to settle the land."

As the old farmer spoke, his originally bright eyes dimmed:

"It only hurts those families whose fields were expropriated from the beginning, but their fields will never come back."

This is an old man with a story.

Feng Junhou reached into his arms and took out an oil paper bag. After opening it, he found pickled dried apricots inside.

"Old man, here, moisten your throat, and you continue talking."

"Lang Jun still likes to hear this?"

The old farmer was a little surprised by Feng Yong's reaction, but he stretched out his hand to take the dried apricots, and put it directly into his mouth regardless of the mud on his hands.

“So sweet!”

"It's pickled with brown sugar from Shu. It must be sweet."

The old farmer held the dried apricot in his mouth and smashed it several times. His eyes narrowed with a look of happiness on his face.

"Old man, even if the land is expropriated, you can still continue farming. Ordinary small families don't have the cattle to farm at home."

Feng Junhou moved his feet to prevent him from getting numb from squatting:

"I heard that the Wei people's farming communities rented cattle seeds to the farming communities. Isn't that good?"

The old farmer licked the dried apricots in his mouth a few times, swallowed a few more mouthfuls of saliva, and then continued:

"Who among the serious people would want to be a farmer? The farmers said nicely at the beginning that they would only farm the land and divide it into 40-60 shares with the Hakkas. There was no need to worry about anything else."

"But in fact, if you really become a farmer, the people will no longer be yours, so how can you still have the final say?"

"It is true that the local government has no control over the farmers, but isn't there still a government for farmers?"

"Why do the officials of the guest house ask you to go? Why can't you go?"

Probably because the dried apricots stimulated the old farmer to secrete a lot of saliva, he got out of hand after saying:

"Wu, well, it was fine when Cao Cao was there. Most of the time, everyone just had to farm. Although the Hakkas took away more, they didn't starve to death."

"But when it came to Cao Pi, things started to go wrong. The court only said that anything that happened to the Tuntian Guests would be decided by the Tuntian Guest House."

"From that moment on, this farmland became truly corrupt."

When the old farmer said this, he couldn't help but sigh:

"Without the supervision of the imperial court, the Hakkas would either sell their farmland privately to local large households, or they would take more harvests from the farmers."

"This work is becoming more and more difficult every year. It is said that you don't have to serve as a corvee, but you can still find time to do it!"

As the old farmer talked, his expression became a little excited:

"In all these years, who has had the opportunity and not wanted to escape? If there is no way to survive, who would be willing to escape?"

Seeing his appearance, Feng Junhou couldn't help but sigh.

History books only know that the Wei State had the largest scale of farming and accumulated a large amount of grain for the Wei State.

But how many people know that Cao Wei's farmland went from its peak to its decline in just twenty years.

And this corruption is based on the blood and tears of how many farmers?

The madness of the farmers in Hedong was a reflection of this extreme oppression.

It’s no wonder that the old farmer said that he only dares to eat half full, and if he can eat enough, he will be prosperous in the world.

Feng Junhou stood up and pointed to the other end of the field:

"How many people are there in the old man's house now? Is your grandson over there?"

On the other side of the field, there was an old woman and a ten-year-old child, who did not dare to approach at first.

But he kept looking over here, as if he was worried about the old farmer.

After seeing that Feng Junhou and his party were not malicious, he became curious again.

"No, he is my son. He must be fifteen years old."

Alas!

Is this... a human word?

How can any parent not know the age of their child?

Seeing Feng Junhou's confused look, the old farmer smiled, hiding endless sadness:

"These are children picked up by the roadside. They are my biological children. Two died of hunger, two died of illness, and the last one was taken away by the villagers to repair the river. There has been no news."

"Later, I was transferred from Runan to Guanzhong by the imperial court. I happened to see this child on the roadside. By that time, he was almost starving to death."

"I felt soft-hearted for a moment, so I fed him some of the food I saved. Unexpectedly, he survived, so I treated him as my own child."

This fucking world!

Feng Junhou stood up and took a long breath:

"Old man, life will get better in the future."

The old farmer's own personal experience seems to be more open-minded than Feng Junhou:

"I hope so."

Of course, it is also possible that he has become numb.

"Most definitely."

Feng Junhou said firmly.

The old farmer's face was full of regret:

"I heard that the people in Shu can have enough food and clothing, and it is all thanks to the Prime Minister of the Han Dynasty. If the Prime Minister of the Han Dynasty had not died, there is no doubt that they would have had a good life!"

"It's a pity that the Han army just came to Guanzhong, and the Han prime minister died. Now the person in charge of Guanzhong is Feng Junhou. Some people say that he is ruthless, but I don't know if it is true."

Feng Junhou:......

"Old man, the people in Sichuan are able to have enough to eat, and half of the credit is due to Feng Junhou."

Feng explained to the old farmer seriously:

"Feng Junhou taught a lot of farming techniques to the people of Shu!"

Hearing this, the old farmer showed a slight hesitation on his face, but finally nodded and said:

"I hope it will be as good as what Mr. Lang said."

"ah?"

Feng Junhou was slightly surprised. It shouldn't be. There is no reason why his reputation in Guanzhong has been ruined so quickly, right?

After thinking about it, it seems that I really haven’t done any bad things in Guanzhong!

What happened in Hedong... I didn't even come forward. Wasn't that done by farmers?

"I think the old man seems to have heard about Feng Junhou?"

"Who in Guanzhong has not heard of Feng Junhou? I heard from the old people in Guanzhong that he is the reincarnation of the Ghost King and can summon ghost knights from the underworld!"

"At that time, one hundred thousand Wei troops cut off his retreat, but they were defeated by the twenty thousand horses he led."

"I heard that in that battle, he summoned three thousand ghost riders at the last moment, and even a hundred thousand troops couldn't stop him..."

As the old farmer spoke, he looked around, as if talking about ghosts in broad daylight still made him a little worried.
To be continued...