Liang Shixian wasted no time organizing his grand "inspection tour."
The lineup: Shaoxing the advisor, ten newly hired yamen runners… and each runner brought three hangers-on.
Forty-odd people in total — a pompous procession that looked more like a parade than government work.
They circled the county seat first, but results were bleak.
Most wealthy families had already been slaughtered during Wang Er's rebellion; the few survivors couldn't cough up more than pocket change.
So Liang took the entourage out of the city, wandering through the countryside.
Stone Village, Du Family Osmanthus Village, Chegai Village, Daxian Village…
Everywhere they passed: desolation.
Out of ten houses, you'd be lucky to find one with a living soul.
The land was cracked yellow, the roads littered with sun-bleached bones of those who starved mid-journey.
Even the manor-fortresses of local gentry were nothing but scorched ruins — burned by bandits long ago.
Now and then, a few wretched survivors appeared: skin draped over bones, eyes as empty as dried wells.
Liang Shixian's chest tightened as he looked. Tears slid down his cheeks.
He lifted his brush while still on horseback and began drafting a memorial:
"Year of Dingmao, drought in Chengcheng. Famine strikes. The people cannot survive; bodies lie along the roads. Some gather to seize grain from the wealthy, fear punishment, and so band together as thieves. Thieves rise, hunger worsens. The land barren year after year, a dou of rice selling for a thousand coins, people eating each other. The starving join the rebels as if returning home. Thus were the thieves born. The people of the four corners look upon Chengcheng and call it a sea of suffering…"
By the end, he couldn't even speak — sobbing openly:
"The people of Chengcheng suffer beyond words… Now that I've taken office, how am I supposed to save them? Tax collection? They can barely stay alive."
Shaoxing whispered, "Can we request relief funds from the court?"
Liang shook his head. "The court has no money — and they hardly care about a tiny place like Chengcheng."
The entire group trudged forward, spirits crushed.
Suddenly, a yamen runner shouted,
"County Lord! Up ahead — a village! And… they're preparing for autumn planting!"
"What?" Liang straightened. "There's still a village like that?"
He climbed a small rise and looked ahead.
There, beside a hillside — a sizable village.
In the center stood a massive fortress-like manor: walls three zhang tall, solid and imposing. Only a truly wealthy clan could build something on that scale.
Surrounding it were smaller homes — clearly tenant houses for peasants working the manor's land.
But what really caught the eye was the land.
The fields around the manor were… moist.
New grass sprouted in patches — unmistakable signs of recent rain.
Farmers were out plowing, loosening soil, digging irrigation channels — preparing for the autumn sowing.
Liang Shixian nearly jumped with joy.
"Heaven hasn't abandoned us! It rained here — these people survived!"
Shaoxing brightened too.
"County Lord, that fortress must belong to someone extremely wealthy. If we speak with the owner, perhaps they'll help fund relief."
Liang blinked. Right — that was his mission today.
But a manor this large… the owner must have a powerful backing.
For all he knew, the clan had produced generations of high-ranking officials.
What could a humble seventh-rank county magistrate say to such a titan?
He swallowed. A little panic mixed with dread.
But he forced himself to stand straight.
I'm not here for myself. I'm here for the tens of thousands of starving people. If my heart is upright, I've nothing to fear.
"Let's go," he said, gritting his teeth. "We're paying a visit."
Inside the Gao Family Fortress
Shansier lounged with one leg crossed over the other, absolutely smug.
His newly hired advisor was scribbling frantic notes, trying to count everything stored in the watchtower's second-floor warehouse.
Ever since the bandits scattered and the roads cleared, Shansier had been making trips to the county seat — meeting his wife, recruiting staff, buying supplies.
The fortress even had horses and a wagon now.
The new advisor, Tan Liwen, was a failed examination candidate — poor family, patched clothes, ten years of study down the drain.
Multiple failed attempts left him hopeless, so he took a job as a private secretary.
Unfortunately… he was clumsy as a newborn calf.
"Huh? I wrote that wrong…"
Tan panicked and fumbled for a new sheet to rewrite the entire page.
Shansier's eyebrow shot up.
"You useless little bookworm! You make a mistake every few words! Do you know how expensive paper is? Our paper workshop only just started running!"
Tan forced a pitiful smile.
"Master, terribly sorry. I will be more cautious."
"Hmph."
He scolded out loud, but inside he was gleeful — practically humming.
This was the joy of finally becoming the boss instead of the servant.
Just then, a newly hired servant ran in breathlessly:
"Master! The new county magistrate is coming — less than two li away!"
"What?!"
Shansier shot upright like a startled cat.
"Quick! Tell the villagers — hide all the iron armor, hide every single divine artifact that Dao Xuan Tianzun gave us! Don't let a greedy official see them. We don't want trouble!"
The servant grinned, "Dao Xuan Tianzun can slap corrupt officials into meat paste. What's there to fear?"
Shansier snorted.
"You've lived in the village long enough — you still don't understand Tianzun's style? He doesn't slap people without reason. Unless someone is a murderous scumbag, he won't act. Less nonsense — move!"
The entire fortress burst into action: shouting, running, covering equipment.
Even the huge solar-powered vehicle got covered with cloth.
Shansier dashed up to the third floor and called out to Yiye.
He whispered urgently:
"Cheng Xu was easy to fool — a street brawler with half a brain. A few lies and he believed the whole fortress was funded by Old Master Bai.
But this new magistrate? He's smart. Really smart.
He won't fall for our old tricks."
He took a deep breath.
"Thankfully he's new and doesn't know local history. I've cooked up a new story: this whole fortress belongs to Old Master Li. And since Dao Xuan Tianzun's surname is Li, that makes this the Li Family Estate."
Shansier jabbed a finger for emphasis.
"You remember this clearly: I am the chief steward of the Li household.
You are Old Master Li's principal wife.
Burn that into your mind — don't mess it up."