Chapter 7: The Literary Official

  Qingyu Village, beside the fields.

  Fang Ming shouted a secret phrase: "Fertile Land Divine Connection!" A white divine energy surged forth, dispersing thread by thread into the fields, increasing the fertility of the land.

  This is not to satisfy the villagers, but Fang Ming took the initiative to attack, just like a company investing its own money. As long as the land of this party increases its harvest, it will surely spread its reputation and increase its followers. Fang Ming calculated the pros and cons, and then did it.

  He held back with one hand, not using his full strength, and only allowed the land to yield half a harvest, making it slightly more fertile, just enough to increase the yield by one or two tenths. It wasn't that he was stingy with his divine power, but rather that he had a bitter reason.

  The Great Drought is an agricultural empire, attaching great importance to land. If it collects a little more, that's still within the growth range of good years, just making the countryside envy, and spreading faith for Fang Ming.

  If it suddenly increases by 50%, that's a heavenly blessing, and no matter how hard you try to cover it up, it will inevitably reach the provincial capital. Who knows, it might even reach the imperial court. At that time, talented scholars and extraordinary individuals will flock in waves, turning Qingyu Village upside down. Will the gods still be able to live?

  Although it may not be a bad thing, it's also half good and half evil. Fang Ming has always believed that his spirit is immortal and time is infinite, so why bother with such urgency and greed, putting himself in danger? So he just gave the land a slight fertilization, and increased the income by 10% which was enough.

  Returning to the Temple of Earth, a general stood by the gate and saw Fang Ming. He immediately saluted: "Master!"

  Fang Ming nodded slightly, and Wang Liu Lang governed the dark troops with military law, which also had some effect. He asked: "Is Wang Liu Lang here?"

  "Reporting to Your Excellency, Wǔ Zhǎng has gone out on patrol and has not returned yet."

  Fang Ming grunted and entered the main hall, quietly circulating his spiritual energy to examine the incense.

  Last time, I received six Yin soldiers. Since I have been living in the law domain for a long time, I only need to consume three strands of divine power per day. My daily pure income is twenty-five strands, which can fully support myself. The divine power returns to my body, and now one person is at least equal to two teams of 100 elite Yin soldiers. In the future, as the divine power grows, the power will increase. So I'm not afraid of what Wang Liu Lang thinks, let him handle the affairs of the Yin soldiers with an iron fist, Wang Liu Lang did not disappoint my expectations, and he managed a team of soldiers in an orderly manner.

  It's just a matter of clerks now. Fang Ming only thought of this now, in the past myths, there were always several Wen Si or something next to the gods, and indeed it makes sense. He is now only managing one village, keeping accounts in his mind, relying on becoming a god after his ears are sharp and his eyes are clear, and can still support it. But if he had the help of a skilled clerk to manage things, he could also reduce his burden and have more energy to attack neighboring villages.

  At this thought, he couldn't help but think to himself, "If Wang Liu still can't find a suitable candidate, I'll have to take action myself. With my ability to sense the aura of things, I should be able to find someone. It's a pity about Wu Lao Fuzi, I wonder how his young daughter is doing?"

  With this thought in mind, I suddenly followed a thread of faith and saw a series of images.

  Wu Lao's youngest daughter, Wu Xinling, is only 14 or 15 years old. As the last child born to him in his old age, she is quite doted on. Last time when the ghosts attacked the village, Fang Ming took care of her secretly, and the Wu family was safe and sound. Now she lives with her elder brother and sister-in-law, who treat her fairly well, and she helps out with household chores.

  She seemed to have a reaction, blinking her big eyes and looking around, but didn't see anyone, with a puzzled face. "Tong Ling Zhi Ti" Fang Ming's heart moved, this Wu Xinling is indeed a good material for the temple, instantly deciding to pay more attention to her in the future.

  The so-called "medium body" refers to a person whose mind is agile and easy to communicate with the divine. In past lives, they were often shamans, temple maidens, priestesses, or holy women. According to Fang Ming's understanding, it is like a high-end radio receiver that can receive signals well and easily tune into Fang Ming's frequency, with minimal loss of spiritual energy transmission between the two.

  But Fang Ming now has a small temple, people can't get in, and the temple blessing is useless. However, it can be prepared first, and later when going to the countryside or county, building a large temple will make it useful.

  Just thinking about how to cultivate Wu Xinling, Wang Liulang came back.

  Wang Liu Lang made a bow: "Your subordinate has searched for several days and finally found the two of them. I have brought them to see Your Majesty!"

  "Oh!" Fang Ming's heart was filled with joy, and he asked: "Where is the person?"

  "Waiting outside the temple."

  "Please come in quickly!"

  "Promise!"

  He brought two people up, one of whom was around twenty or thirty years old, dressed as a scholar, slender in build, with an elegant demeanor. He saw Fang Ming clearly but didn't speak, his dark eyes carefully observing the surroundings. The other person, however, shocked Fang Ming - it was a wretched-looking little old man wearing the uniform of a historical official. As soon as he saw Fang Ming, he knelt on the ground and kowtowed repeatedly, saying: "Your humble servant has seen the great master, may the great master be auspicious!"

  Both have their own characteristics, but they are all in a state of disarray, it seems that their fate is sealed.

  Fang Ming picked up the teacup on the table, took a sip, and said: "You two, state your names, places of origin, and causes of death. I am currently short of a clerk, those who are suitable can stay and enjoy longevity. Those who are not suitable will be driven out of the village to fend for themselves."

  The old man's eyes lit up as soon as he heard it, and he knocked his head again: "The humble one is named Dong, the county historian of Anchang County. He passed away two days ago due to illness. There are many gains in the various rooms' documents, which will surely satisfy your excellency!" His head had a pure white aura, and there was some good fortune. The county historian has no rank, but theoretically, one with a pure white aura can be promoted to the ninth rank at most; going further up would require a bit more ability to control oneself.

  "Fang Ming asked: 'Can you keep accounts?'"

  "The county's tax accounts are mostly done by petty people!"

  Fang Ming nodded: "Are you willing to be my clerk?"

  "The little man is willing, thank you sir!" Again, a big bow.

  Fang Ming pointed with one hand, and a white thread shot into the small old man. The white light flickered, and when it was seen again, the small old man's body had solidified somewhat, and his historical official uniform had changed to a commanding officer's uniform.

  Although he was demoted by two ranks, the old man still looked delighted, as if he had been promoted and become rich, with a happy expression on his face. He first thanked Fang Ming, then greeted Wang Liu-lang.

  Fang Ming looked at the book again, only to see that he was bewildered and slightly surprised. Seeing Fang Ming looking over, he bowed his head and said: "Student Zhou Qing, I have seen your honorable spirit!"

  A single white and red native stem on top of the head, comparable to Wang Liu Lang and He Song.

  Fang Ming sneered, knowing that this person was indeed a member of the scholar-official class, also known as the literati from large families. Most of them were either from aristocratic families or poor scholars who had risen through the ranks, and they enjoyed certain privileges, such as being able to meet with officials of rank nine and below without having to bow. He asked casually: "Where does your family live, and what is your reason for coming here?"

  Wan Sheng's teeth were clenched, and he said: "I am a member of the Zhou family from Anchang County. I died when I fell off a cliff while going out to enjoy the spring scenery outside the county. I didn't expect to become a ghost, and was bullied by evil spirits. Luckily, your honorable spirit saved me. I hope you will send someone to escort me back home, and I will definitely reward you heavily!"

  The Zhou family is a large household in the county, along with the Wu, Zheng and Wang families, known as the four major households of Anchang. Each family has ancestral spirits that have been worshipped for hundreds or thousands of years, guarding their homes with a long and prosperous aura, protected by the ancestors' blessings. As long as they don't encounter a large group of malevolent ghosts attacking them, they can still go out to enjoy the spring outing.

  But since you've become a ghost, do you still want to return to your family? Not to mention the county town has official and military guards, ghosts can't get close. Even if he were to return to his clan, it's likely that nothing good would come of it. Fang Ming sneered, after many days of inquiring about various things, he had also gained some understanding of the ancestors' spirits of the great clans.

  When making offerings, the target must be clear and it is best to have a famous name. This can ensure that the ancestral spirits are truly present and not scattered. If the power is divided, it will weaken, and too many ancestral spirits cannot be worshipped at once, otherwise, they will also disperse. Large families can only support three ancestral spirits at most; any more than this is impossible.

  But the dead of this family, adding up to tens of millions, what a fate: those who died in the county were directly exterminated by officialdom and militarism, reduced to nothing but ashes. Those who died outside the county could not enter the county and could only become wandering ghosts.

  A truly understanding and noble family will establish their roots in the suburbs. Generally, a newly deceased ghost will be given some protection by the family's aura and then sent out to make their own way, relying on fate to find opportunities. A powerful and prestigious ghost with strong aura will either move one branch of the family out of the main line to form a new household, allowing them to enjoy ancestral worship; or they will compete with the main line for a position, forcing their way in, even though it's still one family, since humans are in charge, there is naturally a distinction between close and distant relatives, and the open and secret struggles that ensue don't need to be elaborated.

  This week Qing was obviously a person who didn't understand the situation, and thought that the Yin world and Yang realm were no different. Without thinking much, he said: "Get this person out of Qingyu Village immediately!"

  In an instant, two soldiers lifted Zhou Qing up and dragged him out. His face turned red with rage, but he couldn't resist the strength of the soldiers and was forcibly dragged away.

  These Confucian scholars, who bury their heads in the classics and study hard, occasionally discuss abstruse theories, look down on the humble learning of "Ming Suanjing" (a mathematical text), think it's beneath them to write poetry or articles, but doing accounts is something they wouldn't even consider, and if they did, they might be looked down upon as being unrefined. It's better to just get rid of the arithmetic, anyway, looking at Zhou Qing's physical appearance and aura, his vitality will be extinguished in an instant, and leaving the village won't even be a concern for leaking secrets.

  Regardless of him, looking sideways and asking: "He Dong, why are you here after your death?"

  He Dongyi suddenly appeared, it turned out that he had been a historian for decades and was also friends with the ghostly Cao Si Lingzhu Daochang, so he knew some secrets. After falling seriously ill, he returned directly to his hometown for recuperation. After death, he became a ghost and struggled to survive for seven days before being driven out of the countryside by the rural spirits, seeking opportunities on his own.

  The altar has someone in charge, and it can be quite effective, but most of the time it only provides protection to people and guards the land. At most, it can adjust the flow of air, giving more or less as needed. The ancestral spirits have no power over the local ghosts, and cannot take care of them much. They cannot let them run wild in the countryside, lest they cause trouble, nor can they directly kill them, which would harm their yin virtue. All they can do is drive them away when something happens.

  He Dong actually didn't have much hope, he's just getting older and more afraid of death, thinking that being able to live one more day is one more day.

  Didn't want to go outside, it's extremely dangerous, encountered several waves of fierce ghosts one after another, exhausted the protective aura and damaged the foundation, almost collapsed. Fortunately, I bumped into Wang Liu Lang and got this opportunity.

  Fang Ming nodded and said: "Since you are already an official for me, as long as you work diligently, you can last a long time."

  He Dong was deeply moved and thanked him repeatedly with tears in his eyes.

  He immediately ordered He Dong to follow the previous plan, first to register all the villagers according to their household registration. He Dong was originally a historian and was very familiar with this task, so he took the brush and ink that Fang Ming had condensed out of thin air with his divine power, and began to work.

  Fang Ming looked at his subordinates, who were both literate and martially skilled, and couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He knew that the small system he had established would save him a lot of trouble in the future. Next, he planned to spread his faith to other villages and strive for progress.

  P.S: Many thanks to the little bookworm 2 for being the first to reward this book, thank you very much!