Under Cheng Xu's reorganization, the craftsmen of Gaojia Village finally stopped blindly hammering whatever they felt like and began producing equipment with actual planning and purpose.
Before this, Li Daoxuan would give a casual instruction, float off like a breeze, and leave everyone to guess what the heavens wanted. Precision management was not his hobby.
Now that Cheng Xu had arrived, someone was finally around to nag handle the details.
"I need fifty hand crossbows," he announced.
The carpenters—who had been halfway through making doors and chairs—immediately dropped their wood planks, split into teams, and switched to crafting crossbows. Before Cheng Xu, everyone used to swarm the same task like confused ducks, because they genuinely had no idea what Gaojia Village needed.
But each time Gaojia Village gained another "management talent," the craftsmen's goals became clearer.
Of course, division of labor meant someone had to be in charge. The craftsmen elected Li Da as their "Master Artisan," but Li Da was already drowning in his own gadget experiments, so he politely abdicated and passed the title to Gao Yi Yi.
Thus, Gao Yi Yi became the supreme overlord of the artisan quarter, swagger included.
Spring Festival cheer covered the world—except the unfortunate soul named Flat-Rabbit.
Flat-Rabbit was a wandering outlaw. His nickname, as every bandit knows, was the kind only bandits give themselves: memorable, ridiculous, and mildly embarrassing.
Months earlier, when Wang Er rebelled, Flat-Rabbit tried to join the cause. Unfortunately, absolutely no one wanted to follow him. He carried only three things: a rusty ancestral sword, two flatbreads, and a heroic desire to beat up tax collectors.
After hearing Wang Er had been caught and beheaded by Inspector Cheng Xu, the rebels vanished like smoke, leaving Flat-Rabbit stranded—unable to go home, unable to surrender, and unable to find the rebel army he had hoped to join.
He survived by digging wild vegetables, gnawing bitter roots, and stealing from corrupt landlords. A noble lifestyle, if one ignored the fact that he was starving to death.
Just when he was about to collapse, he saw something miraculous: a village surrounded by healthy green wheat fields, gleaming like an oasis. Hope returned—or at least the hope of stealing enough food to not die today.
He staggered into the village.
A guard on the wall—not just a guard, but a guard with a bow—shouted down at him. "New arrival?"
Flat-Rabbit blinked. "Huh?"
The guard—Gao Laba—called out, "If you're here for food, go to the fortress gate. Clerk Tan is distributing meals."
This confused Flat-Rabbit completely.
But food was food. He stumbled to the gate.
There, Clerk Tan had set up a large table, directing helpers who were handing out white steamed buns—good-quality ones—two per person.
Flat-Rabbit nearly cried. He collapsed forward, rasping, "I… I'm starving…"
Clerk Tan sighed, handed him three buns, hesitated, then added a fourth. "Eat slowly. I don't want to fish your corpse out of the dirt."
Flat-Rabbit wolfed the buns down, promptly choked, and was saved by a helper with a bowl of water. Revived, he stammered his thanks.
Clerk Tan asked gently, "So, brother, you came looking for work?"
Work?
"Does this place even have work?" Flat-Rabbit asked.
Clerk Tan realized this poor soul had no idea where he'd wandered into. The recent influx of refugees came from news brought back by short-term workers visiting the county—word that Gaojia Village fed people, paid people, and didn't beat them to death. Naturally, more desperate folks came seeking a chance.
Most newcomers had no job lined up yet and no money. Clerk Tan therefore set up a daily food station to keep them alive long enough to register.
In short:
Come to Gaojia Village → You won't starve.
Want better than not starving → You must work.
Li Daoxuan allowed people to rest if they wanted, but he also encouraged ambition. The man had a balanced philosophy: both lying flat and striving must coexist in harmony.
While Flat-Rabbit was digesting all this information, Gao Yi Yi burst out of the artisan quarter yelling:
"Carpenters! We urgently need carpenters who can make hand crossbows! Wages: one hundred catties of rice or flour per month, ten catties of meat, one cattie of salt, one cattie of sugar, one cattie of oil! Even if you don't know carpentry, we'll take apprentices! No wages until you learn, but food is covered. Skilled workers earn the same as masters!"
The entire short-term labor village exploded.
"I can do carpentry!"
"Me too!"
"I'll take it!"
Flat-Rabbit massaged his ears. He must have misheard. That mountain of food—that was one carpenter's monthly wage?!
His soul left his body.
Came back.
Left again.
Then he sprang up and waved frantically.
"Me me me! I—I know nothing about carpentry, but I'm willing to become an apprentice!"
Because—
Work is impossible?
Sure. Flat-Rabbit had believed that.
But starving was more impossible.
And apprenticing in a place that fed him daily?
Well… ideals are nice, but steamed buns are nicer.
Footnotes
Flat-Rabbit: Bandit nicknames traditionally exaggerate either viciousness or ridiculousness. Flat-Rabbit clearly chose the second route.
Village Wages: Historically, most villages barely produced enough grain to feed themselves. Gaojia Village's wages would make any Ming-dynasty peasant faint in joy (or suspicion).
"Work Is Impossible" Line: A playful nod to modern slang—delivered through a starving outlaw discovering that, actually, work is extremely possible when the alternative is death.