Farmer of Shu Han

What did I ask Wang Ping to do? Looking for Qiang people, why are you looking for Qiang people? Graze me. And now this Li Yi told me that he can provide horses?

Don't underestimate pony horses, after all, they are also famous in history. So, a Yunnan horse is also a horse!

Feng Yong thought for a while, and thought to himself, could there really be a destiny in this world? Then I thought of the story of Wang Mang, the predecessor of the time traveler, and Liu Xiu, the son of the plane, and shuddered in my heart. Forget it, I'd better go to Hanzhong to herd well.

"Then how many horses does Li Langjun have?"

"Ten horses should be enough for this trip to Hanzhong, right?"

"Not fifty horses?"

The corners of Li Yi's mouth twitched, this Feng Langjun is really... generous, he thought that he was sincere enough to give away ten horses, but he didn't expect the other party to ask for fifty horses as soon as he opened his mouth.

"To be honest," Li Yi shook his head with a wry smile, "there is a shortage of horses in Sichuan. Although this Yunnan horse is produced in Nanzhong, it is not easy to get, not to mention that it is now a time of rebellion..."

I remembered that when I first came to Feng's residence, I was also taken aback by the "magnificence" of Feng Langjun in front of me. I originally offered 1,000 guan, but the other party called for 30,000 guan. I didn't know it was a joke until later, but this time, it couldn't be true and there was a misunderstanding, right?

Thinking of this, Li Yi asked tentatively: "Feng Langjun wants so many horses, does he have some other plans?"

Feng Yong looked at Li Yi with admiration in his eyes, and said, "Li Langjun is really a smart person."

"Then can you talk to Li?" Li Yi leaned over, looking very interested.

There’s no way I’m not interested. I don’t want to talk about anything else. It’s just the slave selling that I personally experienced... Oh, it’s about the captives. It has nothing to do with it, I really don't know where this person got such exquisite thoughts - it's just a little too vicious.

The nomadic peoples in the north have been continuously plundering south since the beginning of history. When the Central Plains dynasty was strong, they would often beat them all over the ground looking for their teeth, cutting them off one crop after another like cutting leeks. But whenever the Central Plains dynasty declines, they will continue to go south to rob like an unbeatable Xiaoqiang.

Is it really because of the savage nature and the fearlessness of death?

Of course not, if they were really not afraid of death, they wouldn't succumb to the Central Plains again and again. On the contrary, they are too afraid of death, because if they don't go south, they will starve to death.

The descendants of Yanhuang can be said to be the only ones favored by heaven: they occupy the plains formed by the alluvial of several rivers, and these plains are large in size, and they are all in areas with warm climate and suitable for farming, enough to toss for thousands of years.

This geographical advantage is rare even in the world. Therefore, even in the backward ancient times, they had the confidence to say "Don't seize the time for a field of a hundred acres, and a family of a few can live without hunger".

But you try to put these words on the grassland? In ancient times when there was no silage technology, no knowledge of rotational grazing, and people only knew how to live by water, a hundred acres of grassland could raise a few cattle and sheep, but it certainly couldn't support a single person.

So the grassland is so big, you can live freely, but die faster.

It sounds nice to say that the wind blows the grass and the cattle and sheep appear, but that is when there is grass. In winter, when a white disaster strikes, let alone livestock, even people have to obediently wait to die.

In the ancient northern nomads, a tribe huddled together for warmth in winter, placing the young and strong in the middle and the old and weak at the outermost. In other words, if the old and the weak can't stand it anymore, they should die first, and just leave the young and strong.

This not only preserves the vitality of the clan, but also reduces the population, so as not to consume too much rations-the concept of natural selection is vividly expressed here. So if they don't go south to rob, how can they survive?

Although the garrison troops Feng Yong was in back then were surrounded by deserts, there was a small village tens of kilometers away from the garrison. Once, the army had a military-civilian fish-water relationship with that small village, and some people were pulled over to help the villagers build the feed silage cellar.

There are only a few families in the village, and each family raises more than a dozen sheep. Basically, the whole family's income depends on these sheep.

As a southerner, Feng Yong also asked a very idiotic question curiously: why not raise more?

The old man, who looked to be in his sixties but was actually only in his forties, spoke half-baked Mandarin, pointed to the open space in the distance and said, "Well, there's not enough grass to eat, too many sheep!" Pointing to the tower-shaped fodder silo, "This is what we rely on in winter, otherwise the sheep will starve to death without food."

With the later generation of silage technology, herdsmen have to carefully calculate the stock of livestock, otherwise, if you raise them desperately, will you really think that cattle and sheep can grow up by drinking northwest wind? Not to mention the ancient times when there were as many cattle and sheep as there were grass growing in that field.

Moreover, at that time, the Hu Yi and other northern nomads made another cruel calculation: calculate the number of human beings alive based on the number of cattle, sheep and food in their hands.

Want to survive? Then go grab it! Can't get it? Then go to hell!

So what Feng Yong wants to do now is to slightly change this backward herding method of running around the world, and change it into a circle-raising method. I don't know if such a hundred acres of grassland can support one person, but it is not a problem to double or triple the number of cattle and sheep.

The knife flower flashed suddenly, and the silver light suddenly broke.

A slight sound of "pa" sounded, and a wooden stick with a thick arm standing on the martial arts field swayed gently.

Guan Ji carefully controlled her breath, the hands holding the knife were overexerted, and the veins on the back of the hands with some tiny scars popped up. When his breathing calmed down, the light of the knife flashed, and he swung the knife with both hands at the stick again...

The wooden stick still didn't fall down this time, it just shook even more.

At this time, a right hand stretched out to the top of the wooden stick, held down the swaying wooden stick, and then pinched a small piece of wood one inch thick from the top of the seemingly undisturbed and seamless wooden stick.

The small piece of wood cut by the knife was placed on the left hand, and the right hand stretched out again, and picked up another piece...

From the top of the five-foot-high wooden stick, Shengsheng was split into thirteen pieces at a thickness of one inch at a time, but did not fall to the ground.

"aunt."

Guan Ji saw who was coming, stopped her hands, and yelled.

The prime minister's mansion is very similar to the mansions of many generals, that is, there is a martial arts arena. It's just that this martial arts arena is a bit special, and the prime minister usually doesn't come here unless necessary. Because this martial arts arena was specially opened for the prime minister's wife, Guan Ji would often come here to practice martial arts, and sometimes the prime minister's wife would bring Zhang Xing over.

"Let's take a break." Huang Yueying looked at Guan Ji, touched the cut surface of the small wooden block with her fingers, and shook her head lightly, "The incision is getting rougher every time, which shows that your mind is unstable. This practice is also a waste of practice. Let’s take a break to calm the distracting thoughts in our minds.”

"Follow my aunt's orders."

Guan Ji put the knife away and followed Huang Yueying to the rest area of ​​the martial arts training ground. A maid had already brought a bowl of soup.