The plains fell silent.
Indeed, the feudal lords of Japan's Middle Ages sure knew how to play the game, even more so than the capitalists. Besides all sorts of harsh taxes, they directly conscripted labor to farm, taking all the proceeds for free, their hearts black as pitch.
The plains shook his head, looked toward the dry fields away from Otakigawa, and asked again, "What about the fields? Besides the fifty-fifty split, is there anything else to pay?"
"There's nothing else, but the yield from dry fields is often poor, and if calculated in rice, it's even less. There's hardly anything left after paying the annual tribute." Yayoi, perhaps because her father managed the village's farming tribute as a low-level magistrate, was quite aware of these matters. "Apart from that, our village has to deliver feathers, fish glue, lacquer, lacquer seeds, bundles of straw, hemp, hemp seeds, dried radish, dried turnips, bean paste, bamboo, wood...and some other things, which I can't recall at the moment. I'm sorry, sir."
Her voice grew softer and softer. Despite being only ten years old and still a child, detailing these items seemed to weigh her heart heavily, making her uncontrollably dejected.
The plains fell silent again, a momentary loss of interest in exploring the cultural customs of Japan's Middle Ages.
Calculating roughly, the working people of Japan's Middle Ages toiled year-round, only to keep around 20%, or maybe even just 10%, of what they earned from labor, a realization that had not crossed his mind before.
Previously, he had only read in books about the heavy burdens faced by peasants in the feudal era, but he hadn't imagined it would be this severe, truly achieving the state where "those who farm have no rice to eat, those who weave have no clothes to wear, living worse than a dog."
However...
So are Japanese peasants really that patient, with over 80% of their wealth taken away, yet no uprisings? In Huaxia, tax collection at this level would have likely led someone to rise up shouting, aiming to depose not only lords and emperors but even divine beings and monsters!
Anyway, he couldn't accept it. No matter who exploited him like this, he would surely resist!
He hesitated twice but didn't voice, "How did you endure till now?", after all, he was just a traveler through time, not intending to incite a revolution in Japan.
He simply looked silently at the sallow, emaciated little girl before him, refraining from discussing matters that upset her, shifting to lighter topics, and began inquiring about agricultural knowledge from Japan's Middle Ages.
Yayoi, still young, quickly shifted her focus. She might have grown accustomed to the numbing despair of a life like a dog's. She soon began meticulously explaining how their village cultivated—currently, the Nongwei area of Japan was adopting a unique two-crop system.
They began planting early rice before the Meiyu season, then planted another crop near its end, while the dry fields were sown with buckwheat, various beans, radishes, turnips, and a bit of taro in alignment with seasonal changes. Both wet and dry fields aimed to harvest before July's typhoon season, and after mid-August when the typhoons subsided, they quickly planted a second batch of buckwheat and beans, along with a crop of turnips and radishes, ceasing agricultural production afterward and prepared to winter.
Hmm, buckwheat isn't actually wheat; buckwheat belongs to Polygonaceae, whereas wheat is a Poaceae plant. Despite their similar names, they're unrelated. Compared to wheat, buckwheat isn't tasty, but its advantage is fast growth, barely harvestable in over two months, forming an ideal supplement post-typhoon. Hence, buckwheat was a significant crop in Japan's Middle Ages.
The tradition of eating buckwheat noodles during the Japanese New Year in later times might originate from this practice. In Huaxia's middle school language textbook, there's a piece titled "A Bowl of Spring Noodles", which depicts buckwheat noodles.
While listening, the plains contemplated, enriching his knowledge amidst this unfamiliar era, frequently praising Yayoi for her vast understanding, her remarkable knowledge, which made Yayoi increasingly bashful, her mood inadvertently lighter, as if momentarily forgetting the mentioned hardships.
She really enjoyed chatting with the plains, feeling that he wasn't quite like other Samurai, though unsure precisely how.
Perhaps it was because the plains was willing to praise her, willing to joke and laugh with her, willing to treat her like a person?
She couldn't articulate it; she didn't understand; she simply thought the plains was a very good Samurai, unlike other vulgar Samurai.
The two continued chatting idly, heading back home together.
Yayoi's mother, Apei, was puzzled, cooking, while her daughter and an esteemed guest disappeared together, leaving only an injured man sleeping alone. Seeing them return together, she was relieved and hurriedly invited the guest for a meal.
The meal remained frugal, still primarily consisting of brown rice, radish, and sauce. But having just heard of the immense burdens shouldered by farmers in Japan's Middle Ages, seeing these dishes again, and observing the sallow, emaciated Yayoi akin to a little chick, alongside the equally jaundiced Apei, the plains felt a pang of guilt, reluctant to open his mouth to eat.
Originally, he planned to linger at Yayoi's household for some time, partly to understand the current conditions better and avoid being caught off guard, partly to let his foolish son recover and perhaps awaken naturally. However, seeing their dire situation, unable even to afford food, while he contributed nothing financially, he felt like committing a sin continuing to freeload.
Should Yayoi's family go bankrupt, he and his foolish son would have nowhere to turn.
Hence, he believed a slight adjustment to the survival plan was necessary—to first secure some money, at least achieving a state where basic needs like food and clothing were guaranteed!