NOVPUBThe July rains fell softly, so warm and unhurried. A fine mist moistened everything: lush plants flourished in the mountains, birds chirped joyfully in the forests, and new sprouts dotted the fields with green—all bustled with the vitality of early summer.
Xiulote, draped in his thatched raincoat, stood quietly in the rain by the shore of Lake Patzcuaro.
He looked up at the overcast sky. The pitter-patter of raindrops formed intermittent lines, drifting onto the cloud-enshrouded mountains and then flowing down to form streams in the valleys. He turned his gaze toward the stream at the base of the mountain. The clear brook flowed gently, nourishing the burgeoning shrubs along its path and the freshly tilled farmland.
The young King’s eyes moved across the orderly fields before finally settling on the village by the lakeshore.
"Let’s go, let’s take a look over there."
Xiulote commanded in a deep tone. Bertade nodded and hurried off with a few dozen trusted aides to inspect the village first. Meanwhile, over a hundred Samurai, cloaked in capes and wielding shields and axes, stood guard beside His Highness.
"Be careful not to step on the new sprouts!"
Xiulote ordered loudly before slowly crossing the ridges between fields. He bowed his head to observe the cultivated acres on both sides, carefully inspecting the new sprouts and estimating the timing of the planting.
Once corn seeds are sown, they absorb water and germinate within a week, given appropriate soil temperature and moisture conditions. The germinating sprouts first send out roots, spreading three or four primary roots deep into the surrounding soil, and then reach upwards with their shoots.
Thinking this, Xiulote squatted down, carefully measuring with his fingers. He then grabbed some sandy loam from the field, feeling its texture and viscosity, and nodded in approval.
At this stage, the corn sprouts had just begun to emerge, about the length of a little finger, with the first pair of cotyledons yet to unfold, still encased in a tubular shape. The gathering rainwater flowed through the fields, past the young corn sprouts, causing them to lean slightly. 𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙥𝒖𝒃.𝙘𝙤𝒎
"The seeds have only germinated for a week... which means planting was completed two weeks ago... just before the heavy rains. Good enough!"
Xiulote gazed at the tender sprouts, lost in thought. If they were to grow for another week, the roots would firmly anchor into the soil, and the cotyledons would open into a heart-shaped leaf form. Only then would the corn sprouts be fully developed and less likely to be damaged by heavy rains... But when too much water penetrated the soil, it would decrease the oxygen, damaging the crops’ roots. This also required deeper and longer roots to overcome...
All in all, farming activities needed to align with rain and temperature. This year’s spring farming was indeed a bit late... Fortunately, on his way here, it seemed that the settlements around the Capital City, both military and civilian, had roughly completed their cultivation tasks, which should not affect the autumn harvest.
As Xiulote pondered, Bertade quickly returned from the village and stood by silently. Looking up, the Head Warrior gave a serious nod. The young King then rose, brushed the sandy loam from his hands, and strode toward the village.
The village chief, Priest, and villagers were already waiting at the entrance to the village, forming a dense crowd, surrounded by dozens of supervising trusted aides and accompanied by a Translator. The Tarasco language and Mexica language are not much different, with many similar words and pronunciations. Even without a Translator, Xiulote could roughly communicate with the people of Prepetcha.
Seeing the distinguished His Highness approach, everyone simultaneously bowed down in salute. Xiulote, with a calm expression, nodded and gestured with his hand, signaling the Priest, village chief, and Militia Captain to rise and speak.
This was one of over eighty villages in the Patzcuaro Lake region, located on the North Coast of the Great Lake. The village was large and used to be populous and prosperous. However, last year, the village suffered multiple levies by the Tarasco Kingdom and was later harassed by a defeated army, leaving it severely damaged.
After the capture of the Qinchongcan Capital, Xiulote accounted for 60,000 civilians in the city, nearly half of whom were refugees from the countryside. The young King organized these 30,000 people, together with the over 100,000 vulnerable populations around the Capital, into villages around the Lake Region. He then directly appointed Priests to manage them, establishing them as communities directly under his jurisdiction. Each community village had a sizeable population of around 2,000 inhabitants, totaling approximately 80 communities with about 160,000 people.
Community management was a Mexica tradition, which was the backbone of the Alliance’s strong ability to mobilize. The essence of community cultivation was structured household registration, rigorous oversight of farming, and command of agricultural activities. However, Xiulote lacked reliable grassroots administration and low-level Priests proficient in accounting. Therefore, the organization of the communities had just begun and remained at a very rudimentary stage.
The young King had simply dispatched newly trained, low-level Priests to various community villages, selected local chiefs, and supported them with stationed Militias, barely managing to control the 150,000 to 160,000 rural people surrounding the lake.
Therefore, in the community village before him, the highest authority was the village Priest directly under His Highness, who could communicate with superior Priests, oversee religious activities, tax collection, and the proclamation of edicts; next was the locally selected village chief, usually from a family with many mouths to feed, who practically managed agricultural production, coordinated village affairs, and inspected communal storage; lastly, the appointed or selected Militia Captain, holding the village’s military power, maintained the safety of the village, guarding the warehouse, and dispatched tribute teams on schedule. Of course, in an Alliance that revered military strength, the political status of the village chief and Militia Captain was actually roughly equal.
