Magistrate Feng Jun's worries were, of course, well founded.
Li Daoxuan was thinking the same thing.
Rebel bands were nothing like regular troops. They didn't advance city by city, inch by inch. They jumped, slipped, tunneled, and struck wherever defenses thinned. If land routes were blocked, they took the river. Surprise raids were not a deviation—they were the plan.
If his field of vision had already reached Qiachuan Wharf, Li Daoxuan could simply deploy ship models and wipe out the rebel fleet cleanly.
But it didn't.
Not yet.
That made things awkward.
Which meant—no matter how one looked at it—the people of Heyang County still needed to be saved, and fast.
As long as most of the county's people felt genuinely safe and content, they would hand over their "Salvation Index," and his vision would expand naturally.
Simple logic. Brutal timeline.
"Yiye," Li Daoxuan ordered silently, "tell Shansier this village is to fully support Heyang's disaster relief. Immediately. Have the county launch labor-for-relief programs at once. I will also personally bring rain to Heyang."
Gao Yiye leaned close and relayed the divine instruction.
Shansier's spirits lifted instantly.
"Magistrate Feng," he said, "we already discussed relief for Heyang before. Time is tight, so we act now. But you know as well as I do—give a liter of rice, earn gratitude; give a bushel, earn resentment. Direct handouts aren't the way. Relief must come as wages."
Feng Jun nodded quickly. "Agreed. Sir Bai mentioned this earlier as well. Let us construct two roads—one from Quangou Village straight to the county seat, and another from here, Gao Family Village, to Yang Village. I'll mobilize large numbers of laborers, and the grain you provide will be distributed as wages. If workers are fed mostly full each day, they should be quite happy."
Shansier shook his head with a smile. "Mostly full won't do. They must eat fully. And they must receive wages on top of that—three jin of flour per day. No delays."
Feng Jun froze.
When he'd first heard "labor-for-relief," he imagined something barely above soup-kitchen standards. Enough to survive. Not… this.
This was far beyond expectations.
His nose suddenly started bleeding. He wiped it reflexively, smearing two curved streaks across his face—like a grin that didn't belong there.
"This is… truly guaranteed?" he asked.
"Absolutely," Shansier replied. "A thousand percent real."
Feng Jun nearly laughed with relief. "Then this is excellent. Truly excellent."
Sir Bai stepped forward calmly.
"There is, however, a complication," he said. "Once these labor positions open, every able-bodied man will rush to work. Your county militia will dissolve overnight. But Wang Jiayin's fleet may arrive at any time. If the rebels attack while your militia is digging roads, Heyang will be exposed."
Feng Jun's face darkened again. "You're right. But I can't forbid the militia from working. Block a man's livelihood, and you may as well kill his parents. They'd revolt before the rebels even arrive."
Sir Bai smiled faintly. "Which is why the militia must be reorganized."
Feng Jun blinked. "How so?"
"Pay them," Sir Bai said. "Treat the militia as a full-time profession. Pay them better than road labor. Gao Family Village will cover the wages. That way, they guard the county instead of chasing other work."
At first glance, it sounded excellent.
On second thought, something felt… off.
Feng Jun's nose bled again. He wiped it, the smear dragging his expression downward this time. "Road workers aside, having your village pay and maintain my militia feels… improper."
Sir Bai spread his hands. "Militia were never funded by the state. They're raised by local gentry and wealthy households. If not us, it would be some Zhang, Li, Wang, or Zheng paying them. What difference does it make?"
Feng Jun hesitated.
Wrong. But also reasonable.
He turned it over in his mind until it jammed.
In truth, militias differed little from private retainers. They were privately funded armed groups. Whoever paid them, commanded them.
In good hands, they protected local order.
In bad hands, they became rebels with better bookkeeping.
But Heyang already had multiple local gentry-funded militias. They'd helped eliminate Fan Shanyue's remnants. Even if Gao Family Village harbored ambitions, they couldn't simply absorb all those forces overnight.
At worst, it would become a contest of wealth.
And right now, Shaanxi was chaos. The court was absent. Survival came first.
Once he reached that conclusion, Feng Jun stopped hesitating.
"Very well," he said. "Let's do it."
With the magistrate's nod, everything moved smoothly.
Gao Yiye smiled. "Since the roads are settled, there's only one final matter. Gao Family Village will now conduct a ritual to summon rain for Heyang County, so the farmers may receive real benefit as well."
Feng Jun froze. "A ritual? Summoning the Dragon King? What is this—are you planning some heretical nonsense? I won't permit that."
This reaction was precisely what Li Daoxuan wanted.
He could have followed the slower path—pamphlets, gradual belief-building, Daoists, charitable women, layers of persuasion before divine manifestation.
But there wasn't time.
Wang Jiayin's fleet was coming. He needed eyes on the Yellow River immediately.
Subtlety was a luxury.
This time, brute divinity would suffice.
Gao Yiye smiled gently. "Magistrate Feng, rest assured. This is no heretical sect. Daoist Ma Tianzheng of the Quanzhen Longmen lineage resides in our village. All that's required is for Daoist Ma to travel to Heyang, set up the altar, and invite the Dragon King to bring rain."
She gestured around them.
"Our village has not suffered drought. That alone should tell you whose favor we enjoy."
Trivia Notes
Trivia Note: Labor-for-Relief Was Social Engineering
Labor-for-relief programs weren't just about feeding people—they controlled movement, reduced unrest, and rebuilt infrastructure simultaneously. Paying full wages, however, was rare. When done, it didn't just prevent rebellion; it rewired loyalty. Hungry men revolt. Paid men organize.
Trivia Note: Militia Were Not State Forces
Local militias were privately funded, lightly regulated, and deeply political. They existed in the gray zone between defense and rebellion. The state tolerated them because it had no better option. This tolerance would later haunt it.
Trivia Note: Rain Rituals Were Administrative Tools
Rainmaking rituals weren't superstition alone. They were public demonstrations of moral legitimacy. If rain followed, authority increased. If it didn't, blame shifted upward—to heaven, fate, or officials. Either way, pressure moved.
Faith was governance by other means.
Trivia Note: Speed Beats Orthodoxy
In crisis, governments abandon correctness for effectiveness. Subtle persuasion takes time. Miracles are immediate. History shows which one officials choose when rivers carry enemy sails.