Đại Minh’s First Crown Prince Chapter 129: The Resettlement Work

Chu Tiêu stood with his hands clasped behind his back, pondering silently for a moment. He decided to send Mao Tương to investigate whether that person had left behind any manuscripts.

Chu Tiêu returned to Wenhua Palace. As the imperial examination matters could not be rushed, he resolutely shifted his focus to the resettlement work. This resettlement could not be carried out village by village, for that would be like patching a fish head with a shrimp head—utterly chaotic and inefficient.

From every hundred households in a village, seventy would be selected, prioritizing the impoverished. Indeed, apart from the reluctance to leave one's homeland, for those destitute folk who could not make a living in their current locales, resettlement was actually not a bad option, especially with the generous subsidies and policies offered by the imperial court.

Chu Tiêu unrolled a map. This migration was to Anhui's Fengyang, the hometown of Chu Nguyên Chương. The initial estimate was to relocate over two hundred thousand people, though this was merely the first batch, with plans to move several million more in the future.

Since the late Yuan Dynasty, the Yellow River had frequently overflowed. For twenty consecutive years, no breaches were repaired, and the Yuan court, plagued by internal turmoil and external threats, failed to address the issue. This led to vast stretches of land in the middle and lower reaches of the Yellow River transforming into swamps, ultimately leaving the areas devoid of human habitation and villages reduced to ruins.

Shanxi's current population, as reported by Từ Đạt, was roughly over twenty million, whereas the combined population of all other regions in Đại Minh likely did not even reach ten million.

Therefore, successfully managing this initial mass relocation of the populace was of utmost importance, as it would set a crucial precedent for all subsequent resettlement endeavors.

The relocation to Fengyang was also aimed at rapidly replenishing its population. After all, Fengyang was very close to Nanjing and was a strategically important region, thus naturally warranting priority in population replenishment.

Chu Tiêu opened the records of population movements from previous dynasties. Unfortunately, most were merely small-scale migrations where a few thousand soldiers would herd the populace like sheep, lashing those who fell behind.

The remaining migrations were largely a result of natural calamities; even without imperial organization, the populace would be compelled to move, much like how people from various parts of the Central Plains actively fled to Shanxi due to natural disasters and warfare. First and foremost, they had to be informed of the advantages, lured by tangible benefits. Most of the refugees who had fled to Shanxi had not led easy lives, and since Shanxi was not their native land, they would be relatively easier to persuade to relocate. They were to be informed that all provisions along the journey would be supplied by the imperial court. Upon arrival, each adult male would be allotted ten mu of farmland. Furthermore, if one was willing to clear new land, for every ten mu they pioneered, eight mu would be granted for their own keeping.

Once settled, they would be encouraged to procreate; the imperial court would bestow rewards for every child born, regardless of gender.

Chu Tiêu had already sent fifty thousand head of sheep and cattle, brought from the grasslands, to Fengyang. Moreover, the imperial court was actively trading tea and salt with various Mongolian tribes, and livestock such as sheep, cattle, and horses were deemed valuable assets.

Naturally, some degree of forced relocation would ultimately be unavoidable, yet it could not be carried out like herding sheep. In these times, every individual was exceedingly precious. Chu Tiêu intended to first move the strong and able-bodied, allowing them to eat their fill and travel swiftly. Upon arrival, they would join the army in uniformly constructing housing, establishing agricultural garrisons, burning charcoal, and laying down the foundations for infrastructure.

The elderly and young, however, could proceed at a more leisurely pace later. Their immediate utility upon arrival would not be significant, and rushing them to Fengyang would only lead to their collapse, necessitating the allocation of personnel for their care—a task that would ultimately be more trouble than it was worth.

Chu Tiêu also intended to gather orphans. Although the people of Shanxi lived relatively well, that was only when compared to regions ravaged by war. There were still many local orphans; those with sturdy constitutions managed to survive by begging for food from a hundred families.

Compared to adults, these orphans were undoubtedly more favored by Chu Tiêu. With just a daily meal and proper training, they could be nurtured into capable individuals for any purpose.

Furthermore, they were not only needed by Chu Tiêu but also by Chu Nguyên Chương’s Imperial Guard Commandery. In the future, when it would be reformed into the Embroidered Uniform Guard, a great many hands would be required. Simply recruiting from the army might prove unstable, so at the very least, the middle and upper echelons ought to be personally cultivated.

After gathering them, Chu Tiêu would undertake their unified training, assigning them according to their innate talents. More so than expanding his network of spies, Chu Tiêu now hoped to cultivate a cohort of gifted individuals in scientific and technical fields, as well as shipbuilding.

Upon reflecting on this, Chu Tiêu felt a familiar ache of regret. If only that man hadn't died, it would have been splendid. Even if he merely understood some fundamental principles to impart to disciples, it would have been immensely helpful.

According to current estimates, by the time the relocated populace arrived in Fengyang, it would be autumn. The most pressing issue then would be the swiftly approaching winter. Only by enduring this first harsh winter could the resettled people truly be considered to have found their footing, after which they could begin spring plowing, summer weeding, autumn harvesting, and winter storage.

After two or three years of the imperial court’s tax exemption policies, the people of Fengyang would then truly settle down to cultivate their lands and raise their families.

Although Fengyang was situated in the south, its winters were still exceedingly cold; indeed, winters of that era were far more severe than those of later generations. While the southern cold was incomparable to the harshness of the north, without adequate heating through the night, people could still freeze to death.

In later generations, no matter where one resided, even the most impoverished household would at least possess cotton clothing, thick coats, and blankets. Yet, obtaining such items was exceedingly difficult in the current era. Take cotton, for instance; its origins lay in India and Arabia.

Before cotton was introduced to China, the land only possessed kapok, suitable for stuffing pillows and mattresses.

There was no cotton that could be woven into fabric. Before the Song Dynasty, Chinese script only featured the character "綿" (mián), related to silk floss, but not "棉" (mián), which specifically denoted cotton fabric.

Chu Tiêu still remembered seeing their quilts when he went to Fengyang years ago to offer sacrifices to his ancestors. Most were stuffed with willow floss, kapok, and similar materials, the meager warmth retention of which could easily be imagined. Yet, there was no other recourse; they could only layer several covers, and of course, being unable to afford much fabric, they often resorted to coarse cloth.

The common folk would huddle together for warmth through the night. Those with slightly better means might fashion quilts, blankets, and clothing from chicken, goose, or duck feathers and other animal down for insulation. However, these materials were exceedingly prickly and possessed a distinct odor, making sleep uncomfortable, yet there was no alternative.

Wealthy households, too, might use animal hides, such as dog skins, as bedding. Ordinarily, mountain hunters would utilize the furs of wild animals, and in times of peace, the common folk could exchange grain for these furs with the hunters.

Although cotton had by now been introduced, how could the common folk dare to plant such a cash crop? With consecutive years of natural disasters and warfare, every additional grain of food meant a chance at survival. Who would waste precious land to cultivate cotton when people barely had enough to eat, and where would such cotton even be sold?

On this matter, Chu Tiêu wished to commend his father. Two years prior, Chu Nguyên Chương had ordered that fields near Nanjing be tilled to plant some cotton, perhaps having personally experienced the bitter cold of winter. Now, the Ministry of Revenue had already assigned personnel to begin crafting cotton quilts, which would then be directly transported to Fengyang.

With housing and warm clothing provided, only heating facilities remained. Heated beds, or *kang*, had long been present in the north, yet they were typically not used in the south, primarily due to a scarcity of fuel. Wood alone would be insufficient; therefore, coal had to be utilized.

Coal, in fact, was readily available, and specifically within Shanxi. Chu Tiêu had read Li Daoyuan's *Commentary on the Water Classic*, which documented the self-combusting coal seams and the exploitation and utilization of coal in Shanxi's Datong region.

During the Song Dynasty, coal from the Datong area was widely consumed. In the Liao, Jin, and Yuan eras, coal mining in Datong had already reached a highly developed state, and the iron-smelting industry there had remained robust for a long time.

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