High Yiye leaned toward Gao Sanwa and whispered like an expert smuggler teaching a rookie, "Only lift the sunshade a tiny bit. Not too much. The Sun-Car runs on sunlight — the more it gets, the faster it goes. And I am absolutely not smashing into a wall like those two legendary idiots, Gao Chuwu and Zheng Daniu."
Gao Sanwa snickered. "Yeah, yeah. Dao Xuan Tianzun Himself called them 'two idiots.' That nickname is stuck for life. Their grandchildren will inherit it."
Yiye shrugged. "Good. You understand. Once you get labeled an idiot, you'll need double the bride-price to get married."
Sanwa blinked. "Why would you need a bride-price? Why not eat the stuff yourself?"
Yiye gave him the kind of look adults reserve for children who ask if chickens have souls. "You wouldn't understand. Anyway—go. Let's roll."
Sanwa carefully tugged the sunshade open by a sliver.
In a drought, sunlight is the one thing the heavens provide in terrifying abundance. The moment the shade lifted, the Sun-Car drank in that blazing light, humming to life and gliding forward.
A moving Sun-Car was basically a village-wide emergency broadcast.
Farmers in the wheat fields turned to look.
Convict Laborers on the hillside — busy sawing wood and making doors — also turned their heads.
Dozens of eyes locked onto the slowly accelerating car.
Normally, they'd be watching to see whether today was the day the two usual idiots would flip the car again.
Instead—
"Eh?? Isn't that the Saintess driving?"
"And isn't that Sanwa controlling the shade? Why is he up there?"
Gao Sanwa's mother nearly fainted. She scrambled up the fortress wall and shouted, "Sanwa! What are you doing? Did Dao Xuan Tianzun order this?"
Sanwa panicked. "Shh! Shh! Don't yell! I'm still supposed to be in study hall. If the teacher hears, he'll know I skipped class!"
Well. Now the whole village knew he skipped class.
Gao Sanwa's mother's nostrils flared like a war-horse. She grabbed a rattan cane and charged out of the fortress like a demon general descending the mountain.
"Yiye! Hey, Yiye! I'm speeding up!" Sanwa yelped. "My mom is coming!"
Yiye burst into laughter. "Relax, I've learned how to turn. Go ahead — full speed."
"Say no more!" Sanwa ripped the sunshade wider—
The Sun-Car Number One bolted forward with a whoosh, racing down the village's only cement road toward Zhengjia Village.
Behind them, his mother shrieked, "You brat! You still have to come home tonight! When you do, I'll let you taste bamboo-shoot pork!"
Sanwa shouted back, "We're having pork tonight?? Great! Don't start without me!"
The entire village roared with laughter.
The wind blasted their faces as speed climbed. The prototype Sun-Car had no cabin, no windshield — nothing but the raw thrill of air slamming into them. Yiye's long hair whipped wildly behind her.
The exhilaration hit her like a storm.
Finally free.
She was — and would always be — the most mischievous girl in the village. Her laughter rang out through the air.
From above, Li Daoxuan watched the two youths tearing across the countryside. A soft smile formed on his lips.
So this is it — seeing people happy makes me happy. Maybe saving others… saves me a little too.
He popped another spicy skewer into his mouth. Too philosophical, he thought. Thinking too much leads to insanity. Better to focus on eating.
He had just crunched down on a piece of chicken gizzard when he spotted movement on the official road — a ragged group trudging from the southwest.
From the county town's direction.
Ah, he thought. More craftsmen? Great—one can never have too many craftsmen.
But he was wrong.
These people weren't craftsmen. They reached the fortress gate, and none of the resident craftsmen greeted them — meaning no introductions, no referrals.
The sentry called down sharply, "Halt! Who are you?"
High Family Village no longer allowed strangers into the fortress casually. Wandering the village was fine; entering the fortress was not.
Frightened by the shout, the ragged bunch huddled like terrified quails.
One young man mustered courage and called up, "Excuse me! Is this the Li Family Fortress of High Family Village?"
Per Shansier's instructions, sentries always answered outsiders with "Li Family Fortress."
So the guard nodded. "Correct. This is High Family Village, the Li family's fortress."
The newcomers lit up.
"We made it!"
"We finally found it!"
"This is the place!"
The guard stiffened. Something felt off. He sent someone running to fetch Shansier.
Shansier poked his head over the wall. "Who are you? What business do you have here? I'm the steward — speak to me."
The ragged villagers raised their heads and babbled together:
"We're from Cao Village, Shi Village, and Dai Village near the county town! The drought destroyed our crops. We begged for food in the county, but the magistrate's porridge is too watery — you can survive, but not live. Then a candy seller told us—"
Ah, Li Daoxuan thought. So they're here begging for food.
Shansier thought the same and was about to order some helpers to bring food when—
"—the candy seller said High Family Village has something called 'Convict Laborers'! As long as you work hard, you can eat your fill every day! So we came here. Steward sir, please accept us as Convict Laborers!"
Li Daoxuan choked.
Shansier froze.
The two sentries and several helpers all burst into helpless, explosive laughter.
The refugees panicked — oh no, the household guards were mocking them. Good masters might be kind, but guards? Guards were notorious for bullying.
They scrambled to speak:
"Steward! We work fast and hard! Whatever you command, we can do it perfectly! If you're unsure, let us be Convict Laborers for three days as a trial! If you're satisfied, we can become long-term Convict Laborers!"
Li Daoxuan laughed so hard his skewer fell out of his mouth onto the floor.
The mighty Dao Xuan Tianzun ended up crouched down, wiping the ground with a napkin like a defeated office worker.
Footnotes
Convict Laborers – In real history, forms of penal labor existed, but no one ever lined up voluntarily to join. That would be like a crowd rushing the prison warden saying, "Sir, please lock us up. We heard the meals slap."
Bride-price economics – Rural marriage markets really could be brutal. Being labeled an idiot genuinely could affect your "market value." Ancient gossip worked faster than modern social media.
County porridge relief – Historical famine relief often fed people just enough to avoid riots, but never enough to give them strength to walk too far. Bureaucrats feared "over-generous porridge" might attract even more migrants. Efficiency through misery — a classic governance style.