High Martial: From the Start, I Inherited a Coastal Fief

Chen Yanzhou transmigrated into a high-martial world where martial strength reigned supreme, becoming the laughingstock of the entire commandery city:

An inferior aptitude, seven years of skin tempering without even reaching completion, a broken engagement, and everyone betting against him.

Then a deed of inheritance landed in his lap: a hereditary fief by the sea in the southwest, Listening Tide Bay.

Others thought he'd inherited a barren stretch of wasteland and a worthless pond.

Only he knew that a tidal spirit vein slept beneath the bay:

When the tide rose, cultivation became twice as effective; when it fell, he could farm fields of rice that filled ten miles with fragrance.

The pond was both a dike and a formation; salt was both salt and a blade.

With the Tide Almanac in hand, he could calculate exactly when the great tide would crest, more accurately than a fisherman with thirty years of experience.

Beneath the ancestral hall, the inheritance sealed away by ten generations of ancestors began to reveal itself layer by layer, each item a formidable treasure.

The Red-Mane Sea Raiders wanted to collect his grain, and marked him in their ledger;

The great families of the commandery city wanted to swallow up his shore, while the master of the martial hall wanted to erase his name from the register.

Chen Yanzhou polished the tip of his ancestral spear and smiled with harmless innocence:

“My fief answers to the tide.”

He trained militia, repaired sea dikes, boiled snowflake salt, and quietly traded for iron and grain.

On the night of the great flood, with the tide cresting over the seawall, sixty long spears formed ranks along the shore...

After that night, all of Lanzhou knew:

That baron who only knew how to farm was not someone to mess with.

[Steady Farming]| [Fief Management]| [Play the Pig to Eat the Tiger]| [Slowly Avenging Blood Feuds]