Gao Yiye bounced her way up to the second floor.
The upper level of the watchtower was stacked full of supplies gifted by Dao Xuan Tianzun. One entire room was nothing but cotton. Gao Yiye used to steal a little here and there, but this time she had full confidence. She plunged her hands into the pile and yanked out a massive bundle — bigger than she was.
Climbing the stairs while hugging something larger than herself was a heroic struggle. She couldn't see her feet, nearly tumbled twice, but her mood was soaring.
Back on the third floor, she set up her little loom inside her room, humming a tune — something her mother taught her. She didn't know the name, just the melody.
"Hey, I'm the naughtiest girl in Gaojia Village — wild, bold, and brave as a battle drum."
"First I must be happy, everything else comes second…"
Li Daoxuan watched the girl weaving joyfully under the lamplight. For reasons he could not name, his mood lifted — then he flopped down and instantly fell asleep.
The Next Morning
At daybreak, the sky above Gaojia Village echoed once again with the familiar rhythm of the Seventh Radio Calisthenics.
Gao Yiye led a whole pack of children into the Learning Courtyard to do morning exercises.
Of the fortress's nine halls and eighteen courtyards, one was now formally named the Learning Courtyard. Mister Wang had personally written the words and hung the plaque above the gate.
Once those two characters went up, idlers didn't even dare take a single step inside.
Villagers believed that a place of learning was sacred, and stepping in without education was an act of disrespect — like tracking mud into a shrine. They stayed far away.
Which meant nobody saw stern, serious Mister Wang secretly hiding behind the children to stretch along with them.
Departure at the Fortress Gate
At the main gate, Bai Yuan swung himself onto his fast horse and cupped his fists toward Shansier.
"Third Steward, I should return to Baijia Fort now."
Shansier returned the courtesy with a long bow. "Thank you for coming to our aid, Master Bai."
Bai Yuan let out a hearty laugh. When he had arrived, he brought Gao Chuwu and two horses. But now, on his way home, he rode one horse while the other carried two enormous jars—one hanging on each side of the saddle.
One jar was filled with shimmering fairy sugar. The other held snowy-white lard. In a year of drought, both were priceless.
Even for a wealthy clan leader like Bai Yuan, getting his hands on these was nearly impossible. Money couldn't buy what didn't exist. So the fact that Gaojia Village gifted him two whole jars made him incredibly pleased.
He could finally enjoy a few proper meals after going home.
Holding the reins with one hand, he waved with the other. "Everyone, I'll return to Baijia Fort now. If anything happens, just send word. Speaking of which, you folks really ought to purchase some horses. Walking to my fort takes two hours."
Shansier nodded. "Master Bai speaks the truth. It's just that traveling to the county has been dangerous. Last time we nearly had an incident — lucky that Wang Er passed by. Once things settle, I'll go buy some horses."
Bai Yuan chuckled. "It'll get easier soon. If my guess is right, the road from here to the county will be smooth and safe within a few days."
Shansier blinked. "What?"
Bai Yuan didn't elaborate. He simply laughed, kicked his mount, and sped away. The second horse, carrying sugar and lard, followed behind. In a moment, the two horses and their master were far down the road.
The villagers murmured among themselves. What did he mean by that?
Bai Yuan was great in many ways, but he loved acting mysterious.
Release of the Labor Reform Prisoners
Shansier turned back to the crowd. "Alright, don't block the gate. Go back to your work. Look — Tianzun has moved the walls. The prisoners are being released. A new day begins."
Everyone turned. The colorful barrier that enclosed the prisoners rumbled and slid open, revealing nearly two hundred labor reform convicts.
They shuffled out timidly, staring at Shansier, waiting for him to speak the crucial words.
Shansier did not disappoint. "Give each of them two grains of rice. Let them cook it themselves. Once they're full, they'll begin labor reform."
The prisoners burst into cheers.
Shansier barked, "What are you happy about? You're being punished! Know your status! If Tianzun hadn't decreed that you get meals, I'd have let you starve half to death!"
The prisoners ignored his yelling.
"There's food!"
"Wonderful!"
"I'm willing to do labor reform forever!"
"Labor reform is amazing!"
Shansier: "…"
Li Daoxuan couldn't help but be amused.
Then he noticed something: a faint glow rising from the bodies of a few prisoners. The sparks drifted into the walls of the box, and the rescue index shot up — five points.
That increase alone matched saving several lives.
"Oh? These few count as saved already?"
He understood instantly. These people already had simple goals: to survive and to be fed. Their new life fulfilled all their life's expectations.
But…
There weren't many like that.
Li Daoxuan pressed the compass on the outside of the box. The view expanded again.
Two Days Later — Chengcheng County
In the county yamen, the ninth-rank patrol officer, Cheng Xu, collapsed in the magistrate's chair like an empty husk.
After Zhang Yaocai was killed, Cheng Xu led troops to take over the county, maintaining order in place of the dead magistrate. Then he spent his days running everywhere to suppress unrest.
But the more he suppressed, the more rebels emerged. Fires, riots — endless trouble.
These past nights, he kept dreaming of his great-grandmother's stern face, waking up in terror over and over.
"Can't kill them all… impossible…" he muttered. "Everywhere—rebels everywhere—can't kill them all…"
"Report!"
A bowman rushed inside. "Boss, bad news."
Cheng Xu sighed. "How much worse can it get? Everything is already a disaster."
The bowman spoke quickly. "The new county magistrate will arrive in three days. He's… from the Donglin faction."
Cheng Xu shot upright. "What?!"
He was aligned with the eunuch faction. Hearing that a Donglin official was coming was like hearing his execution date.
With the county in chaos, a Donglin magistrate would certainly write long memorials accusing Cheng Xu of every crime imaginable.
The pen of a scholar-official was more terrifying than any blade. One memorial reaching higher authorities, and even the Nine-Thousand-Year Eunuch might not bother protecting him — especially since Cheng Xu wasn't even a true loyalist, just someone who leaned slightly their way.
Cheng Xu jumped up, shaking. "It's over. It's over. I can already see my great‑grandmother waving at me from the afterlife!"