Warring States Survival Guide
Chapter 93 - 57: Other Paupers Are Not Allowed to Come Over

Chapter 93: Chapter 57: Other Paupers Are Not Allowed to Come Over

The funeral of the "Tiger of Owari," Oda Nobuhide, lasted for eight days. During that time, a multitude of ceremonies were held, and people from beyond Owari kept coming to pay their respects. For example, Oda Nobunaga’s father-in-law, Minoh’s guardian Saito Dosan, sent a formal envoy to offer condolences.

But these diplomatic "national affairs" had nothing to do with Harano. After staying for two days at the foot of Juewang Mountain, because he was a low-ranking karami with little threat, he was among the first batch allowed to leave.

He hurried home and immediately penned a letter, attaching a small barrel of soy sauce, ordering the Momoi brothers to rush it over to Hosokawa Guanyin Temple to officially seek cooperation. Even though this felt a bit like a slap in his own face—since the Japanese monks had zero respect for intellectual property and would squeeze him dry—he couldn’t care less right now. With calamity looming and dark clouds pressing down, war could break out at any moment. What mattered most was making sure he had enough money on hand.

At the very least, he couldn’t have most of his assets sitting as barrels of soy sauce in the backyard. You can’t exactly grab those and run if trouble hits.

Meanwhile, after the old monk Haixin tasted the industrial soy sauce—overflowing with chemical residues—he was blown away. He thought that, in terms of color, aroma, and flavor, it had a crushing edge over the traditional batch-brewed stuff on the market. It was a perfect candidate for arbitrage. The monk immediately sent out a team, had all the soy sauce Harano had packed up and carted away, and signed a long-term "exclusive sales agreement" with him.

Harano made his money back at once and immediately invested his capital into a new round of brewing, once again tweaking and optimizing the process. Seven days later, another batch of chemically hydrolyzed soy sauce rolled out, and he swapped it again at Hosokawa Guanyin Temple for ready cash.

With money in hand, he expanded production again. Eight days later, yet another batch of soy sauce was ready. Once more, he sold to Hosokawa Guanyin Temple, bringing in another round of funds.

It just so happened that Ah Man returned at this time, stunned to see a whole cartload of Yongle Coins sent from the temple, finding it almost unreal.

She’d known Harano’s "Immortal Technique Secret Recipe" soy sauce was a money-spinner with fat profits. But watching him, herding the three-to-five big cats, little dogs of the household, hammer out batch after batch, and clunk his way to over two hundred kan in half a month—enough to equal six or seven earth warriors’ annual income—was just unreal, hard to believe.

Harano, standing to the side, looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, and didn’t give the money cart so much as a glance. Making money with technology was that simple: time travelers never needed to fret about cash. For them, earning money always came as a side effect—nothing to be proud of.

He was actually more concerned about recent events. After sending off the monks from Hosokawa Guanyin Temple who had come to collect soy sauce, he turned to Ah Man and asked, "So, what’s going on out there these days?"

Recently he’d been busy commanding production and scrambling for cash, too distracted to keep tabs on things. So the daily task of scouting for news, watching the situation, and giving early warnings fell to Ah Man, which was fortunately her specialty—something he trusted her with.

Ah Man finally snapped out of her daze at his question, though her eyes still lingered on the heap of money, a little spacey as she replied, "Uh... Not much of anything so far. No signs of mass mobilization."

"Details?"

Harano led her inside, found a spot, and they sat down. Only now did Ah Man snap back to business, focusing: "Yesterday, the big fool already returned to Nagano Castle. He’s now officially the family head of the Dan Zhengzhong clan. Rumor has it, thanks to old Hirata Masahide’s efforts and with support from Saito Dosan of Minoh, his uncle, and other relatives, he secured verbal fealty from the various branch families and local gentry across the Lower Four Provinces of Owari. But whether those clans and nobles will actually listen, and to what extent, is still up in the air. Time will tell."

Harano nodded slightly. So after half a month, Oda Nobunaga had only just managed to inherit the family headship in name? Who knew what open or covert struggles had played out at Juewang Mountain and Mosen Castle during that time...

After thinking for a moment, he murmured, "And what about the forces directly under ’Tiger of Owari,’ Oda Nobuhide..."

"Most of them ended up in Oda Shinsei’s hands." Ah Man—whose only vices were gluttony, drinking, gambling, and whoring—well, she didn’t have the equipment for real whoring, and her mouth was too foul, always talking shit, but ability-wise, she was solid. She could get all sorts of intel, strictly professional, and reported to him in detail: "Apparently, thanks to that old hag Tsuchida’s insistence—or perhaps as part of some exchange—Oda Shinsei inherited Mosen Castle, and most of the reserves Oda Nobuhide left behind landed with them."

And Oda Nobuhide’s original group of personal attendants and household retainers—like Katsuyori Shibata and the rest—haven’t budged either, still staying at Mosen Castle and in the eastern Owari region. No one really knows what they’re thinking. Tradition would have them immediately go serve the big fool, the new family head."

Harano lowered his head, pondering a moment. Things didn’t sound too good—wasn’t this basically partitioning the family?

After processing this, he looked up again and asked, "What about other factions? Any movement there?"

"No idea!" Ah Man hit the limits of her professionalism and grumbled openly, "It’s just me here! I’ve been running my legs off just keeping tabs on Mosen Castle. How am I supposed to know what’s up with everyone else out there!"

Fair enough—Ah Man, after all, was a rigorously trained "elite original ninja," but she sure didn’t know clone technique. The Owari Lower Four Provinces make for a big place; you really couldn’t be everywhere at once. Still, Harano asked, "Anything special happening at Nagano Castle?"

"I haven’t really checked on Nagano Castle either—you told me to keep an eye on Oda Shinsei," said Ah Man, pushing off responsibility, then explained, "Seems they’re bracing for battle. Anyway, everyone across the Lower Four Provinces is on edge. The big fool’s core retainer group is actually capable, so they’ll definitely be making worst-case preparations."

"What about Oda Nobunaga? Any moves from him?"

"Oh, him? He’s up to something, but just going bonkers, nothing worth watching closely." As Ah Man spoke, she pulled out a rolled-up "signature judgment document" from her bosom, though by now it was crumpled almost like a piece of used toilet paper. "This is the first government order he gave after returning yesterday. But it’s private, signed with his personal signature, and is being delivered from east to west by his attendant boys. I nicked a copy while I was heading back."

Harano carefully unrolled it and, after a glance, arched his eyebrows: Oda Nobunaga seemed to be planning on building roads—on a big scale, too, with strict technical standards:

The main road should be at least 3 ken and 2 shaku wide (about 6.5 meters), rammed earth, straight, with drainage ditches on both sides;

Branch roads at least 2 ken and 2 shaku wide, rammed earth, straight;

Country paths at least 1 ken wide, as straight as possible.

According to the edict, all branch families and local lords of the Dan Zhengzhong faction should begin organizing manpower, preparing materials, and submitting supplementary routes for approval now. As soon as Meiyu Season ends, they’ll start at once. Anyone who dares to drag their feet or bungle the job will be severely punished.

At the end was Oda Nobunaga’s personal seal—a pattern made of several Manyo-gana characters, arranged like an eye. Very distinctive.

Harano finished reading and handed the "signature judgment document" back to Ah Man, feeling...uncertain.

Building roads was definitely the right move. Every modern Chinese knows the saying: "To get rich, build roads first." Oda Nobunaga noticing that Owari Province’s roads were crap—well, that was sharp, already better than most people of his era. He’d probably suffered enough bouncing around these muddy tracks himself; this idea wasn’t new. Harano himself had suffered plenty from Owari’s rutted, too-narrow, twisting dirt roads and fully supported fixing them—making them at least wider and straighter.

Plus, smooth roads would give the local economy a huge boost. In the long run, it would be good for everyone. But at a time like this, making the branch families and local nobles build roads—even if it’s right—still...well, uncertain.

Still, Oda Nobunaga likely wasn’t actually an idiot. If he had time for this, did he not care about the "Dan Zhengzhong Clan Splinter Crisis" at all?

Was it just arrogance gone wild?

Harano sat in silence, contemplating the situation. Ah Man, meanwhile, rolled up the "signature judgment document," stuffed it back in her bosom, and prepared to use it as toilet paper later.

She’d already discovered that this spendthrift Harano secretly tore paper to wipe his ass, even whining that the straw paper was too rough and had started tearing up Mino Paper. So she tried using some too, and found that it was, sure enough, a lot better than leaves or bamboo chips—much gentler on the butt. Now, she’d gotten into the habit as well, tearing off sheets before going to the outhouse. She was thriftier, though; she didn’t care if her toilet paper had words on it or not. This "signature judgment document" would last her three to five days.

Stuffing her butt-wiping paper away, she was already itching to leave and asked Harano, "Anything else?"

"Nope." Harano waved his hand, ready to rest. He added offhandedly, "I’m going to get some sleep—don’t bother calling me to eat."

Making that money had worn him out. After all, Yayoi and A Qing were just little girls, and the Momoi brothers just half-grown kids. Toward the end, they’d all pooped out, and he’d finished the last chunk of work solo. No way he wasn’t exhausted.

The only comfort was that he had the money in hand, so now he could finally go to sleep in peace and deal with anything else when he woke up.

"Got it!"

Ah Man casually replied, shutting the door for his big nap. Then she rushed off to the temporary storage, gazing with rapture at the piles of glimmering, golden Yongle Coins—she’d never seen so much money in one place before. The moment she laid eyes on it, she was mesmerized. There was just something magical about seeing all that cash together.

If she hadn’t had to deliver her report to Harano, she wouldn’t have wanted to leave at all—she’d have followed the money straight there.

She stared for a while, then plopped down cross-legged, arms folded, to keep staring, liking it more and more. She couldn’t help but exclaim in delight, "So that’s why he wouldn’t stoop to be someone’s retainer on salary—he was planning to be a wealthy merchant! Being a wealthy merchant’s not bad, beats being someone’s errand boy! This kid’s smart—almost as smart as me!"

A Qing, busy counting and stringing up cash, shot her an icy glance but said nothing. Before, when Harano refused to become an official, Ah Man always cursed him behind his back, calling him thick-headed and donkey-kicked. She’d never once called him smart, but now she’d changed her tune, utterly shameless.

But that was just Ah Man being Ah Man. A Qing was used to it and didn’t like to talk much; if it were someone else, they’d probably have clapped back at her on the spot.

The room fell silent. Ah Man stopped running her mouth, too, just continued gazing in rapture at the pile of coins. They weren’t even hers, but just having that much money close by and being able to touch it gave her a deeper satisfaction than usual. But after a while, worry started to creep in—she figured Harano, in her eyes, was a soft touch. What if he did what he’d done back in Hibi Village and burned money to help the poor again...

These are chaotic times, with beggars everywhere. No matter how much he earned, it would just be a bottomless pit. Screw up, and they’d end up begging themselves!

She brooded for a while. Harano had always been good to her, and she figured she should look out for him, too—start helping manage his money. She couldn’t help but ponder a possible career change.

If Harano became a wealthy merchant, maybe she could serve as chief manager, and A Qing could be the family head (merchants’ equivalent of a household officer). Yayoi could start as a housekeeper (overseer of maids), and though the Momoi brothers were a little dim and clueless, their experience ran deep—maybe they could start as senior staff and be promoted to manager later when the team grew.

Either way, she needed to figure out a way to keep Harano’s money together. As long as she was always at his side skimming the benefits, that was enough—those other beggars had better keep their distance, the farther the better!