April in Mexico is the planting season, and the most important spring plowing of the year has just begun.
Shulot sat at the edge of the field and looked at the busy farmers in the village. Most of them were bare-chested, with a loincloth tied around their lower bodies, and their feet were bare with thick calluses. They always had their rickety backs hunched over, waving simple digging stones.
Great, sweating on the newly burned farmland, busy from morning to night.
Fortunately, there is no shortage of salt in the Mexica Plateau. The long coastline, scattered city-state rule, extensive commerce, and salt mines scattered everywhere prevent the people at the bottom from suffering from salt deficiency and edema. Shuluo
Remember, there are huge reserves of salt mines near the three cities of the alliance capital, which are also one of the important trade products of the city in the lake.
Strictly speaking, before the arrival of Western colonists, the life of the Mexican tribes was actually not too bad. Shulot thought.
The city-states in various places have very loose management of their subordinate villages, and there is no high tax imposed on Eurasian farmers in this era. Food is relatively abundant, and the price of salt is very low. Even in barren mountain fields, an Otomi only needs to plant three acres.
Five acres is enough to survive. Generally speaking, there will be no terrible spring famine. If you can plant sweet potatoes with high yields in the mountains without picking fields, you can still raise another child.
"Except for the extremely densely populated Valley of Mexico, the fields in other areas are far from reaching the upper limit of cultivation. As long as there are enough iron farm tools, we can usher in new great development just like the two Jin Dynasties developed Jiangnan!"
Young Shulot's thoughts drifted to China, a hundred thousand miles away. His motherland was also developed in history.
Later, Xiulote grabbed a handful of mud from the field and carefully identified the soil type: it was between hydrophobic sandy soil and hydrophilic loam, which is common sandy loam in the Mexican plateau. This kind of soil has excellent water and fertilizer properties.
Yes, it doesn't require much modification and is a good agricultural soil.
"As long as a canal is built from the Leman River in the south, the dry fields in the entire Otopan region can be transformed into irrigated fields."
Shulot looked to the south with some longing. The rivers that could irrigate were the cornerstone of agricultural harvests in the classical era.
“After becoming irrigated land, the yield of the field can reach a breakthrough again, from ‘lower field’ to ‘middle field’ or even ‘upper field’!”
"And if you want to really get high yields, you still need to apply fertilizers. River mud, piles of manure, and the most recent natural fertilizer, struvite."
Thinking of this, Xiulote's eyes flashed. America is a famous source of struvite. The nearest gathering place for struvite is the island off the coast of Baja California in the west. It is a sacred place for birds to inhabit, with the least amount of precipitation.
It has preserved bird droppings and accumulated natural fertilizer. A little further away, there is the most famous Chilean struvite. In his memory, Bolivia, Peru and Chile fought a famous "Struvite War"
.
The warm wind blew through the fields, and Shulot looked at the new shoots in the fields and meditated. The warriors spread out nearby, sitting on guard while sitting down to rest. In the villages in the alliance-controlled area, everyone was more relaxed, and their weapons were tied with hemp ropes.
Behind his back, he only carried a shield in his hand.
A young warrior took out a water bag. Before he drank, he walked up to Shulot and handed the water bag to the young man with a sincere expression.
"Dear Coyote Priest, this is the last bag of wine made by my wife. Please drink it!"
Schlott smiled and stretched out his hand to take it. Bertard, the bodyguard beside him, saw that he had arrived slowly and slowly. He took the water bag, opened it, smelled it, and then took a sip directly.
“Nice tequila.”
Bertard looked calm and smiled at the young warrior.
"I'm a little thirsty, let me drink some first."
"Okay! Do you want salt?"
The young warrior also smiled and took out a small salt bag from his arms.
"No, I like this bitter and happy taste. It reminds me of my previous life."
Speaking of this, Bertard felt a little emotional. He took two more sips of wine before passing it to Xuellot.
"Nice wine...you can drink it..."
The young warrior's name is Kusola. He has been following Shulot since his funeral in July last year. In the blink of an eye, it has been nine months.
Xiulote knew that he came from a commoner family in the city-state. He had a wife and a newborn son. Xiulote watched him bury his son's umbilical cord under the city of Guamare a few months ago.
, and promised the warrior’s expectations.
After taking the water bag, Shulot was not in a hurry to drink it. He first took out a small clay pot, poured a little salt on the back of his hand, licked it quickly, and then took a sip of tequila. There was a salty taste in his mouth first, and then
Shulot pursed his lips and thought of the distant place. After a moment, he noticed that the water bag in his hand felt soft to the touch and very light. The water bag had a unique touch and a good seal, which was excellent.
Marching water bag.
"Very good! Did you do this yourself?"
Shulot looked at Kusola curiously.
"yes!"
Kusola smiled and nodded, and explained enthusiastically.
"This is a water bag made from a deer's stomach bag. Cut out a suitable part of the stomach bag, then seal one end with a thread and tie it tightly, and make the other end into a loose thread that can be tightened and released. Then bake the pine branches with fire.
Boil out the pine oil and smear it on the stomach bag...Finally, lightly roast the stomach bag over fire to allow the pine oil to penetrate into it and form it into a water bag that can be used for a long time!"
Hearing this, Shulot admired sincerely.
"Praise the Lord God! Kusola, you are very skillful with your hands!"
Kusola looked very happy and responded enthusiastically.
"Praise the Lord God! My father is a craftsman, and he taught me a lot. I also often make small obsidian ornaments for my wife. When I go back, my son will probably be two years old, and I will make him a wooden toy."
"Kusola, why do you want to be a warrior?"
Shulot smiled and pointed at Kusola's calloused hands.
This chapter is not over, please click on the next page to continue reading! "The Lord God testifies! You can become a very good craftsman!"
Kusola scratched his head and smiled again.
"Blessed by the Lord God! By becoming a city-state warrior, I will have a piece of land outside the city, and my wife can be less busy with weaving work. In this war, if I capture more prisoners, I will be promoted and rewarded. etc.
When my son grows up, he will be able to train his warriors and provide better food. In this way, he will have the opportunity to become a strong jaguar warrior and even get a chinampa!"
Kusola looked in the direction of Nanfang's home with a different look in his eyes. Xiulote saw in him the responsibility of a man, the pursuit of a parent, and the yearning for the future. It was Moxi who went out to fight in the army.
The only way to change class is by adding people.
"God bless me! I will."
Xiuluo nodded and gave a sincere blessing.
"Your son will become a Jaguar warrior!"
Hearing Shulot's blessing, the young Kusola smiled happily. Bertard next to him also smiled.
"Commander Bertard, what about you? Why did you join the army?"
Kusola was happy for a while, then saw the vicissitudes of life warrior next to him and also asked this question. Shulot turned his head, with some curiosity in his eyes.
"me..."
Bertard looked leisurely at the setting sun approaching the horizon. His eyes became distant and deep, as if he had traveled through time and space and saw the past.
"Witness the Lord God! I spent five years in the civilian military academy, and then came of age and joined the legion in the capital. Then, I stayed here for a full twenty years...Twenty years...Initially, I followed the great
Moctezuma I fought, then King Asayacatel, now King Zetisoc..."
Bertard smiled and spoke quietly.
"The army is my whole life, I belong to the battlefield... Here are my teenagers, my youth, my middle age, and my old age. Maybe, in the end, like a real samurai, I will die in a certain battle.
Fighting is the best ending for me..."
"But you are already a fourth-level senior warrior. You have enough land and slaves. You can retire and return to the city-state. You can also be a military school teacher and live a happy life with your family?"
Kusola looked at Bertard curiously while looking forward to the life of a fourth-level warrior.
Bertard just smiled. The hard military life left its mark on his face. But more and more profound marks were in his heart.
"My wife...she has gone to the red country and died in childbirth together with my child. I have not remarried."
"My only brother was killed in the battle last year."
Bertard looked at the clouds in the distance with a quiet smile on his face.
"When I go back this time, his wife will probably remarry...I will adopt his daughter and inherit everything I have."
Shulot lowered his head slightly, feeling a little heavy. In this era, difficult childbirth is very common. Without contraceptive measures, and the extremely high infant mortality rate, women will fall into a cycle of constant pregnancy and childbirth. And once
If you're not careful, it could end in a difficult birth.
Therefore, in Mexica society, women who can continuously give birth to healthy boys have a very high status, just like outstanding warriors on the battlefield. Once a woman dies in childbirth, she is also regarded as a warrior who died on the battlefield, worthy of the entire tribe.
Respect.
When Shulot was very young, his mother died in childbirth while giving birth to her second child. In his memory, he vaguely remembered the appearance of his mother in this life. She was a very gentle woman, a commoner from the city-state.
family.
Later, his father married a new noble wife and had many concubines, who gave him many younger brothers and sisters. These new family members were not close to him and did not bother each other. If he had not been different from ordinary people since childhood,
He is highly valued and cared for by his father and grandfather, so he will probably stage a lot of bloody plots.
The three of them fell silent, looking at the distant sunset and the distant red clouds together, falling into distant nostalgia.
After a long time, Kusola asked Bertard.
"Samurai Commander, why do you want to follow the priest?"
Bertard looked at the sunset and answered after a long time.
"Because, I want to change something. What about you?"
Kusola thought about it and smiled sincerely.
"At first, I felt that the priest was so powerful at such a young age... I wanted to follow him and seek a chance in the future."
Shulot also smiled and looked at the young warrior in front of him.
"Kusola, what do you think now?"
Kusola thought seriously for a while before speaking.
"Witness the Lord God! I think, priest, you are different from other nobles. You are very kind to us civilian warriors, and you also teach us mysterious words and knowledge that we have never heard of. You are also very kind to the common people...
You are a good person and are blessed by the gods!"
Hearing this, Shulot felt unspeakably moved in his heart. He had heard the nobles praise him and praise his knowledge. He usually just smiled and didn't feel much. But this was another kind of
The voice, the recognition of him as a human being, also touched his lonely heart.
"Haha! You two guys have made me feel embarrassed... Let's go, we should go eat."
Shulot stood up with a smile, pulled up the two warriors, and everyone around him also gathered and began to prepare dinner.
The dinner was a bit special. Everyone first sat around the campfire in the center of the village, grilling tortillas, stuffed with chili and refried beans. The village elder then presented two special foods: a thornless cactus and red dried cactus fruits. He
He also took out a clay pot of tequila, which is an important treasure of the village and a sacrifice to Xiulote's spring plowing, expressing his heartfelt gratitude and reverence.
This edible cactus is the "mibonta" loved by all Mexican tribes, and it is considered an important vegetable. Hulot first took the roasted cactus and took a bite from the tip.
The Mibonta is grilled just right, and the skin is very thin. It should be specially cultivated. The stem meat is very tender, and it tastes like a mixture of cucumber, celery, and zucchini. When you eat it in the center, it is more juicy and has a light refreshing taste.
Sweet, like fruits and vegetables combined.
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! Then, Shulot picked up a fist-sized dried cactus fruit, which looked very similar to dried dragon fruit, with many small seeds inside. He bit into it.
He took a bite and it was very sweet. His eyes lit up and he took two more bites and tasted some sandy texture. The village elder told Xiulote that this was last year's dried fruit. In October, the fresh cactus fruit will be more delicious.
Everyone drank some more wine, and the warriors started making noise in front of the bonfire. Soon, they were full of wine and food, and some warriors danced war dances by the fire, while others watched and booed. Others were sent by the commander-in-chief Totec.
The samurai shouted loudly, asking for Otomi girls to come over and perform a dance. Faced with the samurai's request, the village elder looked embarrassed and could only stand there quietly.
Shulot waved his hand and asked the warriors to quiet down.
"Have a rest early, gather your strength, and return early tomorrow morning."
Shulot ordered, and dignity appeared on the young man's face. Then the warriors gave up and left as promised.
The village elder quickly fell to the ground to thank him. After the bonfire dinner, Shulot was about to go back to sleep. The elder gave up his house: the best wooden house in the village, which was kept clean and tidy.
When Shulot was about to thank the elder, he saw the elder pulling a young girl, saying that she was his granddaughter, to accompany the priest. The young priest looked at the girl who was about the same age as himself, and she lowered her head shyly.
Standing next to the elder. At this moment, his face, which had been so majestic just now, suddenly turned red with embarrassment.
Bertard smiled softly, stepped forward and said a few words to the elder about the Mexica warriors' tradition of patience and self-restraint...The elder quickly apologized and took the little girl away.
"Farmers, craftsmen, warriors, and nobles...boys, youth, middle-aged, and old...lords and followers, boys and girls..."
The night was deep, and the grass bed was clean and soft, with a fresh breath. All kinds of life details came to Xiulote's mind. He thought about the life of the Otomi people, the life of the Mexica, and even the entire Mexican territory.
Pictures of the life in the department flew by, and finally settled on the little girl's disappointed but relieved smile before she left, and the boy also smiled. Then, in the midst of his chaotic thoughts, he fell into a deep dream on the soft straw bed.
On the floor next to him was Bertard, who was quietly guarding him. He looked quietly outside the house and into the distance of the night.