Gao Yiye leaned sideways, slipped close to Shansier's ear, and repeated every single word Dao Xuan Tianzun had just said—without missing even a breath.
From Liang Shixian's perspective, this looked like: "Oh, this woman refuses to speak directly to me, a measly Seventh-Rank county magistrate—she needs a housekeeper to pass the message for her."
Such a tremendous display of status… he was nearly choking on her arrogance.
Shansier, who had been fretting a moment ago, snapped awake at once.
So that's what Dao Xuan Tianzun meant?
Ah! He thought the deity was refusing to help the starving commoners—turns out he had completely misunderstood!
Good! Very good! Dao Xuan Tianzun was still the same kind-hearted deity as ever.
He hadn't followed the wrong person this time!
No—wrong god.
Shansier straightened up, fired up like a freshly stoked stove:
"County Lord, our Madam says: the Li family can provide grain, but every single grain must land in the mouths of the disaster victims.
As for tax silver—well, hehe—surely Lord Liang knows… once we hand in tax silver, most of it ends up in the pockets of corrupt officials.
So I apologize, but you won't be getting even a single copper coin."
Liang Shixian: "!"
He hadn't expected that speech.
He jumped to his feet, flustered:
"I am not a corrupt official! If your family is willing to pay the people's tax on their behalf, this official guarantees the silver will all be delivered to the capital intact!"
Shansier squinted at him, expression strange:
"And after it reaches the capital? Whose hands does it fall into?
Can you truly guarantee it will all reach the national treasury?
And even if it reaches the treasury, can you guarantee it'll be used for the people?"
Liang Shixian: "…"
Speechless.
His shoulders sagged. His momentum drained like water from a cracked jug. After a long pause, he muttered:
"If… if you do not pay the tax silver… this round… will… not pass…"
Gao Yiye listened briefly to Dao Xuan Tianzun's voice above, bent down, whispered two lines into Shansier's ear.
Shansier lit up again:
"County Lord, for you to appear at a miserable place like Chengcheng at a time like this—surely you must've offended someone?"
Liang Shixian stiffened. Then sighed heavily:
"The Eunuch Faction wishes nothing more than to kill me."
Shansier blinked:
"Oh? They want to kill you? Then… are you Donglin Party?"
Liang Shixian instantly straightened his back, bristling with indignation:
"This official is not Donglin Party! Only petty men cling to partisan labels!
This official merely attended a few lectures at Donglin Academy and found some of the scholars there kindred in spirit!"
Shansier: "…"
From above, Dao Xuan Tianzun snorted:
Hah! Donglin men never call themselves "party."
In their minds, they're pure "clear stream," refined scholars above factional squabbles.
To be fair, early Donglin scholars were fairly upright.
But once they defeated the Eunuch Faction, their influence grew, their goals shifted, and their ideals… quietly died.
The classic tale:
The dragon-slaying youth becomes the evil dragon.
Seeing Liang Shixian offended, Shansier tactfully dropped the "Donglin Party" label:
"Since the County Lord has friends in Donglin Academy, perhaps this hurdle isn't impossible to overcome."
Liang Shixian: "Oh? How so?"
Yiye translated Dao Xuan Tianzun's words, and Shansier relayed them:
"You can write a detailed memorial describing what you've witnessed in Chengcheng—its suffering, the disaster, the starvation—and send it to your friends at Donglin Academy.
They're all men who care about the state and its people.
Once they read your memorial, they'll surely sympathize.
Then they'll gather a whole crowd of Donglin— cough, Donglin Academy friends—
and submit a joint petition to the court.
The tax silver for Chengcheng may be exempted.
Even if not exempted entirely, it can at least be postponed for a long time."
Liang Shixian fell silent, thinking hard. Then suddenly raised his head:
"Do my Donglin Academy friends truly have that kind of influence?"
Shansier honestly had no idea—he was just a minor county advisor—but Dao Xuan Tianzun promptly delivered the answer through Gao Yiye.
Shansier straightened again, speaking with full confidence:
"Yes! Their influence is tremendous!"
Liang Shixian remained doubtful.
Most of his friends were constantly oppressed by the Eunuch Faction—poor, struggling, barely keeping their footing.
Yet this Li family spoke of them as if they were giants.
He pondered deeply.
The highly educated Liang Shixian activated his mental archive.
Memories flashed like a lantern carousel—faces, moments, conversations, lectures…
Then—
Ding.
His mind stopped on one image:
A group portrait of Donglin Academy lecturers.
Gu Xiancheng.
Gao Panlong.
Qian Yiben…
One by one he recalled their true identities—and nearly jumped out of his skin.
These weren't just scholars.
They were influential ministers.
Pillars of the dynasty.
If that group worked together to speak up for Chengcheng…
It might really work.
"Good!" Liang Shixian declared.
"This official will write several letters at once and send them to my friends at Donglin Academy.
Let them raise their voices to the court—perhaps we can win exemption for Chengcheng's tax silver."
Dao Xuan Tianzun was delighted.
This Donglin-leaning official was interesting!
If he was willing to do this sincerely, Dao Xuan Tianzun could treat him as a temporary ally.
"Yiye, tell Shansier to discuss the disaster-relief plan with the magistrate.
We must ensure that every grain we give ends up in the victims' stomachs, not in the pockets of petty yamen runners."
Inside the wooden chest, Shansier and Liang Shixian began discussing the details.
And oh boy, it was endless.
Where to set porridge stations.
Who would cook the porridge.
How much to cook each day.
How to prevent theft.
How to spread word to nearby villages…
All tedious.
All annoying.
But these tedious matters happened to be Shansier's specialty.
He'd served as advisor to the previous magistrate, Zhang Yaocai; he knew Chengcheng's local affairs far better than Liang Shixian, who had just arrived.
He laid out a plan so detailed it made Liang Shixian dizzy.
At some point, the poor magistrate couldn't even understand half of it.
He hurriedly summoned his own Shaoxing-born advisor.
A second round began—two professional strategists arguing passionately, filling the air with fine-grained logistics, down to the last ladle of porridge.
Dao Xuan Tianzun tuned them out immediately.
He refused to listen to such microscopic nonsense.
He checked his Douyin account instead.
Yesterday he'd posted a new video:
Aerial footage of Gao Village, slowly descending until it focused on the elderly village head weaving a bamboo basket by hand.
He wrote a terribly clumsy caption:
"The village head is getting old.
Now the only thing he can still do is weave little bamboo baskets, little bamboo crates, little bamboo stools…"
The video ended with a wide aerial shot of the entire village.
He wondered whether viewers liked it.
The moment he opened it—
A flood of comments exploded below the video.
"Haha! A bird's-eye view of a miniature kingdom! I knew it—Gao Village is totally a model!"
"Right? They didn't even try to hide it. Roofs made of composite board, I even saw a wheel sticking out—actual villages don't have wheels under them!"
"I recognize this model! It's from the 'Chonglin Family Collection'!.