roccoschili Chapter 12 Labor is Glorious
Chapter 12 Labor is Glorious
The wooden shovel shovel rose and fell tirelessly in the snow, shoveling the accumulated snow to the roadside, revealing the dirt road marked with tire tracks underneath. Gao Zidan's forehead was beaded with sweat, and her cheeks were flushed red from the cold wind, but the wooden shovel in her hand never stopped, her movements were swift and skillful, completely unlike the dejected look she had in the tent a few days ago.
Han Xin, standing to the side, watched him, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper. Finally, he couldn't help but step forward and speak in a low voice, his tone full of undisguised surprise and incomprehension: "Young Master, these past few days... you've already done enough by visiting each of those herders' homes to offer your condolences and help them out. Giving them some rough work is already going too far. Why are you still spending your days shoveling snow and clearing roads, getting covered in mud? It really damages the reputation of your Bohai Gao clan."
Gao Zidan stopped shoveling snow, wiped the snow off her face, looked at Han Xin's puzzled expression, smiled, and calmly said, "It's normal for people to undergo great changes when faced with huge upheavals. Besides, I think shoveling snow is the most immediate thing I can do right now; every shovelful clears the road a step closer to completion. And we're just a poor family; why should we care about the empty titles of noble families?"
Ever since she opened the window and saw the tribesmen shoveling snow in the valley that day, Gao Zidan seemed to have suddenly untied the knot in her heart. The next day, as soon as it was light, she picked up a wooden shovel and joined the snow-shoveling and road-clearing team.
The news spread, alarming the entire Yongming tribe.
Liu Yao arrived hastily with the tribe's chieftains and leaders, earnestly persuading them for a long time that he was the son of the Bohai Gao clan, a descendant of the Shanggu Gao family, and a distinguished guest of the tribe. He argued that someone of his stature should not do such rough and clumsy work. The Xiongnu people in the tribe were also at a loss, stopping their work, bowing respectfully, and not daring to let this Han nobleman work alongside them.
But Gao Zidan wouldn't listen to any advice. She just smiled, wiped the snow off her face, and said something that left everyone scratching their heads: "Labor is the most glorious thing."
He insisted on staying there, shoveling away the snow on the road, his movements gradually improving from clumsy and awkward at first to skillful and efficient later on, working for a whole day.
Han Xin followed him, and his astonishment grew deeper each day.
He was a long-time retainer of the Gao family, having served the Gao father and son for many years, and knew best what the scions of aristocratic families were like in this era. The sons of powerful families were never lazy or indolent; they either studied diligently, researching classics and strategies, or practiced archery and horsemanship, becoming knowledgeable in military affairs—each striving to acquire the skills to secure their livelihood and strengthen their family. But no matter what, none of them would lower themselves to do the menial work that only servants and lackeys would do; that was the fundamental difference between their aristocratic families and ordinary people.
Moreover, Gao Zidan, whose entire family was slaughtered and who carried a deep-seated hatred for the enemy, should have been studying diligently behind closed doors, researching strategies, and preparing for revenge and the restoration of his family, instead of shoveling snow with his Xiongnu tribesmen in the snow.
Seeing Han Xin's still puzzled expression, Gao Zidan stuck the wooden shovel into the snow and continued her previous conversation. Her tone was no longer confused, but clear and calm: "Before, I was holed up in my tent, flipping through those history books over and over. The more I read, the more I got stuck in a rut, and the more I thought about it, the more uncertain the future seemed. I felt completely uneasy. Now that I'm out doing something practical, I feel much more at ease."
"You must know that everything is based on people. No matter how eloquently history books and political treatises are written, in the end, they are just about enabling living people to survive. I just shoveled some snow so that these people could suffer less and walk more smoothly. It's nothing big."
Han Xin opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing more. He could clearly feel that the lingering confusion and bewilderment on his young lord had indeed dissipated considerably with each shovelful of snow.
In the following days, Gao Zidan was even busier.
He not only led Han Xin to clear the main road in the valley, but also walked through every corner of the Yongming tribe's valley. He remembered which families had no able-bodied men who had followed Liu Yao to fight and died, which families were poor and only had elderly people left, and which families had too young children and women who could not support their households.
Whenever he had free time, he would take Han Xin to his door to help chop wood, fetch water, repair the felt tents damaged by the wind and snow, or herd the sheep to graze on the sheltered slopes at the foot of the mountain. These were all small things within his ability, but he did them conscientiously, without the slightest airs of a young master from a noble family.
At first, the Xiongnu people in the tribe were reserved and respectful, bowing respectfully and not daring to say much when they saw him. But as time went on, seeing his gentle and honest nature, his lack of disdain for their roughness, and his genuine help, the people gradually lowered their guard. They would greet him with a smile, stuff freshly roasted jerky into his hands, and bring him steaming hot goat's milk, their eyes full of affection and gratitude.
Even Liu Yao, who initially tried to dissuade and didn't understand, eventually tacitly approved and appreciated it. Occasionally, when he encountered Gao Zidan carrying firewood back outside the tent, he would pat him on the shoulder with a smile and call him "Good lad."
That evening, Gao Zidan, along with Han Xin, helped an elderly herdsman with no children at the valley entrance to chop firewood for the winter. They stacked the firewood neatly against the side of the felt tent before heading back to their own tent as the sun set.
The setting sun cast long shadows of the two people, and their footprints in the snow were deep and shallow. All around, there were only the sounds of cattle and sheep returning to their pens, and it was very quiet.
After walking for a long time, Han Xin, who had been silent all along, finally couldn't help but stop, bow to Gao Zidan, and ask the question that had been hidden in his heart for a long time.
"Young Master," his voice was full of hesitation and worry, "we've been so devoted to caring for these Xiongnu people, but what if one day they become powerful and turn their guns on us Han people? Wouldn't our kindness today become a disaster in the future?"
This question is both direct and weighty.
He was a Han Chinese, born and raised in Han lands, and had witnessed countless tragedies of Xiongnu incursions and plundering of Han people on the borders. The concept of distinguishing between Han and barbarians was deeply ingrained in his bones. He truly couldn't understand why his young lord cared so much about these Xiongnu people.
Gao Zidan stopped and turned to look at Han Xin, who was bowing respectfully. He then looked towards the valley, at the wisps of smoke rising from the chimneys of every house, and the children playing and laughing in the snow. He remained silent for a long time. It wasn't that Gao Zidan hadn't thought of anything to say, but when Han Xin asked, he suddenly thought of a text from his later Chinese textbook, "I Have a Dream." However, the content of that text was too ahead of its time. Talking about "people-centeredness" was understandable, as there were similar sayings in ancient times, such as "the people are more important than the ruler." As for talking about egalitarianism and anti-racism to people of this era, he would probably be seen as a heretic. Thinking of this, he couldn't help but laugh out loud.
However, it was at this moment that Gao Zidan suddenly remembered her character. Having transmigrated to this world, she still had to accomplish something. To accomplish something, she needed to win people over, and that meant clearly stating her own principles to get others to follow her. With her current identity, opposing the Song Dynasty and seeking revenge against Xiang Yu was inevitable; regardless of whether she could succeed, this was the only path she could take. Otherwise, in this vast world, she feared there would be no place for her. And putting people first was Gao Zidan's core political philosophy.