By evening, the toy samples finally arrived.
The very first things that caught Li Daoxuan's eye were the tiny 1:200 catapults—fully functional, able to fire little projectiles. They were smaller, more refined, and much sturdier than the ones he had previously bought. Easy to lift, easy to use, and frankly adorable.
Next up were the miniature crossbow carts. He pulled one back, hooked the rubber strip in place, and—thwip!—a one-centimeter plastic arrow shot out.
Cute and deadly. Perfect for defending the village against those wannabe bandits.
Then his attention shifted to the 1:200 ancient-style plastic houses and castles.
Gaoshan Village's little people were hardworking and brave. Give them anything simple, and they could build it. But townhouses? Castles?
Yeah… no. Their construction skills hit a hard limit there.
And those hundred-plus labor reform convicts? They were still living inside that Lego wall Li Daoxuan had built, practically camping. No roof, nothing. When it didn't rain, it was fine. But these past few days he had been "sending rain" into the box, and suddenly that roofless Lego corral became… awkward.
Rain is wonderful when you're starving. Not so wonderful when you're sleeping under a sky with no ceiling.
Li Daoxuan had even thrown a wooden plank across the Lego walls to block the rain for them. But now—with the toy company sending these perfect little plastic houses—he finally had a better solution.
He opened the top cover of the scenery box and said:
"Yiye! Hey, Yiye! Go tell the labor reform convicts that since their recent performance hasn't been bad, I've decided to reduce their sentences a little and give them a small reward."
Yiye dashed off to deliver the message.
On the hillside, in the drizzling rain, the labor convicts were chopping trees. Upon hearing the message, they immediately dropped their tools and bowed in gratitude.
Li Daoxuan reached into the box, scooped up all the Lego bricks, tossed them aside, and began lowering the 1:200 plastic houses.
The labor convicts looked up just in time to see—
DUANG!
A whole house fell from the sky, wobbled twice, and settled down.
Then another—
DUANG!
Then another.
DUANG! DUANG! DUANG!
More than a dozen houses fell from the heavens, forming a neat little miniature village on the wasteland outside Gao Fort—land unsuitable for farming anyway.
The labor convicts stared blankly.
"…What… is happening…?"
Even the villagers watching from afar were stunned.
"What kind of situation is this!?"
Li Daoxuan actually wanted to place more houses, but the toy company had only sent a small batch of samples—barely a dozen. This would do for now. He'd buy more later from the online storefront.
He cleared his throat:
"You labor reform convicts, don't even think about each getting your own house. Twelve men per house. Squeeze in. When you finish your sentences, then you can talk about living like clean free men."
The convicts panicked instantly.
"No, no, this arrangement is wonderful! We don't want to return to our previous free status at all! We can do labor reform for life! Please don't reduce our jail terms!"
Li Daoxuan:
"…"
A bunch of ambitionless fools.
He almost mocked them but paused.
It wasn't their fault. They had just come from starvation-level living to a world of daily full meals. Of course they felt great.
But after this?
He'd pick one convict with the best performance, reduce his sentence, release him early, shower him with rewards, and make him a "model reform worker." Once the others saw him living a better life, they'd instantly change their tune and start fighting to reduce their own sentences.
Dream of lying flat all day?
In your dreams! Work harder!
It was like when a pet owner sees their cat lounging lazily in the sun—they immediately fantasize about giving the cat a 30-year mortgage and sending it off to work in a cat café to earn its own fish treats.
Little kitties, you cannot escape your owner's evil schemes!
Mwahahahahahaha!
Li Daoxuan threw his head back and laughed like a cartoon villain, hands on his hips.
Yiye looked up at the sky, then solemnly said to the labor convicts:
"Dao Xuan Tianzun is laughing with great joy. He seems very satisfied with your performance."
The convicts beamed with delight.
"If Dao Xuan Tianzun is happy when we work hard as labor reform convicts, then we must continue to do our best! This noble and promising job—we shall do it for a lifetime to make him even happier!"
Autumn wind, autumn rain—chill slowly creeping in.
Usually, the first autumn rain marked the ideal time to sow winter wheat.
But this year?
Not a drop.
Liang Shixian, newly appointed magistrate of Chengcheng County, was dying of frustration. Headache after headache.
Seated in the county office, he flipped through the documents handed to him by his long-serving Shaoxing advisor. His brow furrowed deeper and deeper.
"All the county grain was stolen by Wang Er?"
"So I, having just taken office, must clean up Zhang Yaocai's mess, raise all the tax he couldn't collect, and then some, just to refill the empty granary?"
The advisor nodded.
"Yes."
Liang Shixian nearly flipped the table.
If he weren't a refined scholar, he would have.
"No rain, failed crops, starving people—and we still need to raise taxes? That's forcing a rebellion! Zhang Yaocai didn't die unjustly. I, who always care for the people, clear-sleeved and clean-handed, cannot follow in his path!"
The advisor wiped sweat from his brow.
"But if the magistrate cannot collect the taxes, you will also be dismissed and tried. Whether cut down by rebels or by the emperor—the head falls all the same."
Liang Shixian froze.
"So this is a dead end?"
The advisor nodded gravely.
"Yes. Master Magistrate… perhaps we should resign and return home. You might lose your post, but at least your head stays attached."
Liang Shixian frowned deeply.
He needed a solution—fast.
A man of vast learning, his mind spun like a machine. Knowledge, strategy, political experience all flashing past.
Then—ding—he landed on an answer.
"We must approach the local gentry and wealthy clans."
The advisor blinked.
"What?"
"Spread the tax burden," Liang Shixian said. "The common folk cannot afford grain taxes. So we shift part of it to the wealthy families. Let them contribute silver to cover the gap. In return, I'll owe them a favor. Once this crisis passes, I will treat them well."
The advisor exhaled.
"This may be the only path out of the dead end. But… will those wealthy clans agree?"
Liang Shixian snorted.
"In the documents you handed me, it says that the rebellion by Baishui Wang Er attracted bandits from all directions. The wealthy families suffered too—even Bai Manor was raided and emptied. They're as desperate as the common people. This might be the perfect time to negotiate with them."
He stood abruptly.
"Prepare my horse. I'll travel the region and visit the wealthiest households personally. Let's talk business."