"Ah, talking about this is pointless. Enough," Hong Chengchou's mood soured. "Let's just eat."
The hotpot bubbled with various ingredients. Using his chopsticks, he picked out a few items to taste. Each one satisfied him, and he couldn't help but marvel. The ingredients were abundant, the seasonings ample—this small pot of hotpot held great sophistication. "I observe that your village is extremely prosperous. May I ask which family's estate this 'Jia Fort' belongs to?"
San Shier smiled. "Our master's surname is Li."
Hong Chengchou: "'Jia Fort' in Gao Village, yet the surname is Li? Impressive, truly impressive." (He thought to himself: It seems to be an ancient, reclusive family that doesn't wish to be known to outsiders, hence they even twisted the village's name. This Li family is far too capable, must not be taken lightly.)
San Shier said, "We're not all that capable. We might even have requests for Lord Hong in the future."
Hong Chengchou: "That can be discussed, certainly discussed." (He tossed out this vague pleasantry. Whether it could truly be discussed would depend on their mutual value to each other later.)
"By the way, Lord Hong has been eating only from the clear broth side. Would you like to try the spicy side?" San Shier fished a slice of beef from the red broth and put it in his mouth. "Tsk, delicious. I never thought I could get used to this spicy food. I didn't even know it myself before."
Young Master Bai, however, shook his head. "Spicy is horrible. I don't like it."
Gao Yiye and Third Young Miss also said,"Don't like it."
But Tan Liwen and Madame Bai said,"We think it's delicious. The spiciness is very stimulating."
Their debate piqued Hong Chengchou's interest. He wanted to try it, but the pungent aroma of spice and beef tallow... he didn't want it clinging to his clothes. Keeping his torso far from the red pot, he stretched his arm out to its full length, extending his chopsticks to their limit. Using just the very tips, he delicately picked up a piece of aged meat slice and placed it in his mouth.
"Tsk!"
So spicy,yet so satisfying.
(Ming Context: Chili peppers, native to the Americas, were just beginning to trickle into China via trade routes in the late Ming. Gao Village, with its 'celestial' seeds, is centuries ahead of the culinary curve. For most of Hong Chengchou's contemporaries, the primary 'spicy' flavors came from ginger, Sichuan pepper, and mustard.)
Only then did Hong Chengchou discover that he, too, could handle spice. He actually found the food from the red pot more delicious than that from the clear broth.
"Lord Hong, come sit over here," San Shier moved to sit by the red pot, beckoning him.
Hong Chengchou shook his head. Delicious as it was, sitting closer was absolutely out of the question. His clothes must not be tainted by the hotpot smell. He could not compromise his dignity!
He continued to sit at a distance, stretching his arm and chopsticks to their full length to retrieve food from the red pot, dragging it across the entire table back to his mouth. His facial muscles, maintaining composure, couldn't show his immense pleasure, but the delight in his eyes was impossible to conceal.
San Shier suddenly spoke up: "Lord Hong, oil... it's smeared on your chin..."
"Ah?"Hong Chengchou was horrified. In 0.01 seconds, he swished a small bronze mirror from his sleeve, checking his reflection.
(Ming Context: The wide sleeves of a Ming official's robe, 'paofu,' functioned as pockets. Scholars and officials would carry small essentials like mirrors, seals, handkerchiefs, or even snacks in them, leading to the phrase 'sleeve storage.' Hong Chengchou's preparedness is a mark of his status and meticulousness.)
Indeed, a splotch of red oil stained his chin. This... this... thisthisthisthisthis... this utterly compromised this official's dignity!
In 0.01 seconds, he dashed to the servant waiting by the courtyard entrance to attend to him, snatched a handkerchief, spent 0.01 seconds wiping his chin clean, and then flashed back to the table in another 0.01 seconds.
Spending a final 0.01 seconds, he sat back down perfectly straight, even smoothing out the wrinkles on his robes in the process...
To everyone else, it was just a blur. Hong Chengchou seemed never to have moved, but the red oil on his chin had vanished without a trace, and his robes were impeccably straight again.
Hong Chengchou adopted an expression as if nothing had happened. "Eat, everyone, continue eating."
Everyone:"..."
Why did they suddenly feel like punching him?
So,the question arose: How many years would one get for assaulting a fourth-rank court official?
(Ming Context: Assaulting a 4th-rank official like Hong Chengchou was a grave crime of 'disrespect to authority.' Punishment could be severe—public flogging, exile, or even death. The villagers' instinctive hesitation is legally sound; he was essentially a walking, spice-loving capital offense.)
That night, host and guests enjoyed themselves thoroughly. Everyone happily celebrated the Tianzun Hotpot Festival. Among Gao Village's over 4,000 villagers and Hong Chengchou's several hundred men, three-fifths awakened their "spice tolerance" attribute. But two-fifths declared: "We will never touch this chili thing in this lifetime."
Li Daoxuan wasn't bothered. Take it slow. One day, you'll all be heading towards a bright future with your wives, eating hotpot and singing songs.
(Meta: Li's wistful thought is a likely nod to a famous, ironic line from the 2010 film 'Let The Bullets Fly,' where a character's plan for a peaceful future is brutally interrupted. An apt, darkly humorous reference for this turbulent era.)
Early the next morning, Hong Chengchou rose at dawn. With his subordinates, he bid farewell to Gao Village and continued on his way to Xi'an.
His departure marked the formal, vigorous beginning of the bandit-suppression campaign. However, Li Daoxuan knew they were destined to fail; success was simply impossible. He just wanted to know when Hong Chengchou would come next and whether there was a possibility of luring this particular "mini-figure" into the village to become one of his own.
Hmm...
Let fate decide!
(Meta: If this were a literal god-game, Hong Chengchou's character card might show: INT: 95, WIS: 85, CHA: 70. Loyalty (to Ming): 99. Loyalty (to Self/Stability): 90. A fascinating and high-risk recruitment target.)
The world outside grew more chaotic. Shaanxi Governor Hu Tingyan began his work, dispatching large armies to pursue and suppress the rebel bands. For a time, the whole of Shaanxi was shaken, with government troops running about everywhere.
Bai Yuan sent messages from time to time:
Government troops severely defeated Bu Zhanni at such-and-such place.
Government troops severely defeated Zijin Liang at another place.
Government troops severely defeated Zuo Guazi at yet another place.
...
The government troops were remarkably divine and martial, victorious in every battle, almost without defeat. Yet, it was all for naught. Although the bandits kept losing battles, their numbers continually swelled. The more they fought, the more they grew; the more they lost, the more they multiplied...
While the outside world churned like a pot of congee, Gao Village was not idle either.
Xing Honglang had brought back chickens, ducks, and piglets from Xi'an. Though not many, letting them breed slowly promised hope for the future.
(Ming Context: For peasant families, owning a pig was a major investment—a living savings account fed on scraps for a year, then sold for crucial cash or used for weddings and festivals. Gao Village's shift from 'can we eat?' to 'can we raise livestock?' marks its decisive leap from bare subsistence to a budding sustainable economy.)
Previously, villagers didn't dare raise them because they could barely keep themselves alive, let alone livestock. Now with surplus grain, raising some animals was a must.
However, raising chickens was one thing, but ducks were a bit awkward. Case in point: Gao Sanniang's two ducklings had jumped into the village's large pond again, and a group of villagers were desperately trying to herd them back ashore.
The old village chief pointed at Gao Sanniang's nose, scolding, "That's our only water source! Get your stinky ducks out of there now!"
Gao Sanniang was also terribly embarrassed."I'll do it right away—"
"Alright,alright, enough fuss!" Gao Yiye ran over giggling, waving her hands. "Everyone, don't worry! The Tianzun says ducks must be raised. He will bestow upon us another large pond for raising ducks and fish!"
The villagers:"Wow!"
Sure enough, a huge pond descended from the sky once more. This pond wasn't a strange material box but a stone pond. The Tianzun's multicolored golden giant hand reached down from the heavens and, in two or three motions, dug a massive pit in the ground, placing the stone pond inside...
Then, "the silver river fell from the ninth heaven," filling the pond in the blink of an eye.
(Meta: Li Daoxuan's choice of a simple stone pond over a sleek modern tank is a subtle masterstroke. To Ming villagers, carved stone is understandably miraculous yet familiar. A fiberglass pool would be alien and terrifying—a lesson in 'appropriate tech transfer' from a savvy 'god.')
Gao Yiye laughed heartily. "The Tianzun says this pond is made of pure natural stone, suitable for raising fish and ducks. Everyone, stop bullying Gao Sanniang's little ducklings. Little ducklings are so cute."
The villagers shook their heads."We're the ones being bullied by the ducks! It bathes in our drinking water source. Who knows if it's done its business in there."
Gao Yiye:"Don't you all bathe in the pond too?"
The villagers laughed."People and ducks are not the same."
(Ming Context: The villagers' complaint is dead serious. In traditional villages, the central pond was the fragile heart of the ecosystem—for drinking, washing, and irrigation. Ducks, which foul water quickly, were typically kept in separate pools or rice paddies. Gao Sanniang's ducklings weren't just naughty; they were a genuine public health hazard.)
Today, Gao Village was also filled with an atmosphere of joy.