To the southwest of the Hutuo lies a stretch of high ground, rising layer upon layer like steps, shaped like a…
To the southwest of the Hutuo lies a stretch of high ground, rising layer upon layer like steps, shaped like a ladder to the clouds. It spreads out in terraces, and from afar looks almost like a low hill. The people farm and tend the land along these stepped slopes, and so the place came to be called Plowing Hill.
Within Plowing Hill there is also a camp called Toilgrain Barn. The grain grown and harvested by the people of the surrounding region is gathered there. In peaceful times, it serves as the region's barn. When beacon fires flare along the frontier, it becomes a vital hub for transporting grain to the border.
As the saying goes, farming is the foundation of war, and grain is the lifeblood of an army. So although the soldiers and the local people each have their own duties, they work with one heart and are, in truth, one. By day, each goes about their own task, farming the land or hauling grain, all in good order. By night, they gather around the campfire and talk of their lives.