Chapter 185: Xi'an
Seeing genuine remorse in the men, Li Dao Xuan decided it was time to offer them a deal. "Yiye, step forward and address them."
Gao Yiye acknowledged the command. Stepping from her spectator's spot, she gracefully jumped onto the makeshift stage, taking center position. "Though your hearts are repentant, your crimes were severe. You cannot be restored to common status now. The Tianzun offers you a chance: from now on, those who perform well and accomplish meritorious deeds will have their sentences… reduced."
"Reduced?" The convicts exchanged confused glances.
"A reduced sentence means a shorter term of reform labor," Yiye explained. "The Tianzun says your crime is 'attempted robbery and murder,' a most serious offense. Ordinarily, reform labor would last at least ten years."
The phrase "ten years" sent a visible shudder through the crowd.
"However," Yiye continued, "in light of your status as first-time offenders, your susceptibility to instigation, and the fact you caused no actual loss to Gao Family Village—all mitigating circumstances—the Tianzun has decreed your sentence shall be one year only."
The men erupted in joy. "One year! We've already served half a year! That means... just six more months and we're free?"
"Yes," Yiye confirmed. "If your conduct is merely adequate, you will be freed in six months. But if any of you perform exceptionally well, accomplish great deeds, or make significant contributions to Gao Family Village, your sentence may be shortened further."
"Wonderful!" The convicts' cheers were genuine this time, filled with palpable relief.
Yiye turned, giving Steward Shansier a meaningful look before retreating from the stage, ceding the central spot back to him.
Shansier raised a hand, quieting the celebration. "You have all heard the holy maiden convey the Tianzun's decree. Work hard, behave well, and strive to earn back your freedom."
The convicts roared their agreement. "We'll work hard!"
For the first time, hope had a tangible shape. An endless sentence now had a clear finish line. What reason was there not to pour every ounce of effort into reaching it?
A wave of convicts poured out of the reform village. The sounds of axes on trees and shovels on earth filled the air, creating a scene of frantic, purposeful industry.
Shansier smiled inwardly. This should do it. With their spirits rekindled, this can no longer be called 'spiritual idleness.' The Tianzun should be pleased.
He turned and whispered to Gao Yiye, "Yiye, can you see the Tianzun? Is the venerable one happy now?"
Yiye nodded, her voice low. "The Tianzun wears a benevolent smile, like a parent watching their children grow."
Shansier was overjoyed. "Splendid! To bring joy to the Tianzun makes me feel... that my life has not been in vain."
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Meanwhile, in Xi'an Prefecture...
Xing Honglang led her caravan into the great walled city of Xi'an.
The last time she was here, months ago, things were manageable. She hadn't expected the situation to deteriorate so drastically. Now, the fields outside the city walls were littered with tattered refugees.
These must be the ones who can't even afford the 'entry tax,' she thought with a sinking feeling. They're stuck rotting outside the gates.
Her heart grew heavy. If Xi'an has fallen to this state, who will have coin for sugar, lard, or chocolate?
She approached the city gate and paid the entry tax. A guard moved to inspect her goods. With a practiced flick of her wrist, Xing Honglang slipped a silver piece into his hand. The guard gave a cursory poke at the top sack of sugar and waved her through. "Sugar merchant. Clear!"
Her crew passed easily into the city.
Inside the walls, the atmosphere was no better. The streets and alleys teemed with refugees. A heavy, despairing silence hung over the city, broken only by the shuffle of feet and the occasional cry.
I'm finished, she thought grimly. These luxury goods won't sell.
She made her way to the familiar market quarter. Bypassing the stalls selling basic staples, she headed for a shadowy corner at the rear. At a certain hour each day, this spot attracted a specific clientele: stewards and purchasing agents from wealthy households, looking for rare or... less-than-legal commodities.
The moment Xing Honglang appeared, a murmur of excitement ran through the waiting men.
"Look who it is! Yongji's Xing Honglang! Ha! We've been waiting. Do you still have any of that chocolate?"
"The white crystal sugar from last time—my master was most fond of it."
"Salt.I need a hundred catties." A bulk wholesaler stepped forward.
The group swarmed around her cart, ready to fight over the goods.
Xing Honglang's internal cynicism flared. Refugees starve outside the walls, and I thought luxuries wouldn't sell. But you people... you're all the same.
The joys and sorrows of the rich and the poor were worlds apart.
While vermilion gates reek of wine and meat, frozen bones lie by the roadside.
And when it came to parting the rich from their money, Xing Honglang had no qualms. She immediately doubled the price of the crystal sugar and chocolate.
"Hey! Why's the price doubled from last time?" A steward from a minor merchant family balked.
Xing Honglang rolled her eyes. "Have you seen what it's like out there? I'm risking my neck to haul this stuff here. You think my life isn't worth a premium?"
The chief procurer for the Prince of Qin's mansion laughed loudly. "She's right! Anyone who can still deliver fine goods through this chaos deserves extra. If you can't pay, step aside. The Prince's mansion will take these."
After a chaotic round of haggling, Xing Honglang sold about seventy percent of her cargo.
Emerging from the market with her spirits lifted, she left her thirty-eight subordinates to sell the remaining odds and ends. She had another, more critical task from the Tianzun: to secure a gunpowder artisan and bring him back.
Xi'an's layout was a classic grid. Each city block had a designated function. The block where the government-conscripted artisans were housed and worked—the official workshops—was strictly controlled.
Security was tight. The entire block had only two exits, both heavily guarded.
Xing Honglang took one look and knew extracting a gunpowder specialist wouldn't be easy.
Just then, a rotating-duty artisan finished his shift and emerged from the compound. Xing Honglang quietly followed him into a side alley.
"Old brother," she said, her voice low as she tossed a handful of copper coins his way. "I'd like to ask you something."
The artisan caught the coins, his face lighting up. "Sister, ask away!"
Xing Honglang leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I need a fowling piece to hunt birds. Looking for a gunpowder man to help me out."
The artisan's smile vanished. He instantly understood this woman was not on any legitimate business. He turned to leave, but Xing Honglang sidestepped, blocking his path. Her left hand rested casually on the hilt of her waist saber. Her right hand extended again, this time offering a piece of broken silver.
The choice was clear: take the money and cooperate, or face the blade.
The artisan wisely took the silver, signaling his compliance. "Ever since that big explosion in the capital," he muttered, keeping his voice down, "security on gunpowder here in Xi'an has gotten very strict. It's not easy for anyone to get near the stuff... Sister, what you're asking... it's going to be very difficult."
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Footnotes:
¹ Literary/History Fun Fact: This line, "Zhū mén jiǔ ròu chòu, lù yǒu dòng sǐ gǔ" is one of the most famous verses by the Tang Dynasty poet Du Fu. It starkly contrasts the extreme luxury of the rich behind their vermilion-lacquered gates with the common people freezing to death on the roads outside. Its use here by Xing Honglang perfectly captures the bitter social inequality of the late Ming era.
² History Fact: Gunpowder Artisan (Huǒyào Zuò 火藥作): In the Ming military administration, a zuò was a specialized workshop or a master artisan attached to one. A Huǒyào Zuò was an expert in preparing the volatile black-powder mixtures used in firearms, artillery, and mining—a recipe of sulfur, saltpeter, and charcoal. Their knowledge was a closely guarded state secret, making them highly valuable and tightly controlled assets.
³ History Fact: Rotating-Duty Artisan (Lúnbān Jiàng 輪班匠): The Ming dynasty used a corvée system for skilled labor. Artisans were registered by the state and obligated to provide periodic, unpaid service (usually one to three months per year) in government workshops. They rotated through these duties, hence the name. Many sought to evade this burdensome service, creating a potential pool of talent for private recruitment.