As far as "summoning rain" was concerned, Feng Jun didn't believe a single word of it.
Not even half a word.
However, upon hearing that this was not some heretical sect but a Daoist of the Quanzhen Longmen lineage, his resistance eased somewhat.
The Quanzhen Longmen school had been founded by the famous Daoist Qiu Chuji in the late Song and early Yuan—no introduction needed there. More importantly, the current lineage head, Daoist Master Wang Changyue, was widely respected.
At a time when Daoism was in decline, with many Daoists abandoning discipline and focusing solely on extracting donations, Wang Changyue had openly criticized the trend:
"If you cannot follow the teachings yourself, how can you persuade others to follow them?"
Thus he promoted the principle of "cultivate oneself first," urging Longmen disciples to shun crooked paths, restore orthodox practice, and revive the faith.
This was well known. Feng Jun knew it too.
He couldn't help asking, "There is a Longmen Daoist here?"
Gao Yiye smiled and said to an attendant beside her, "Please invite Daoist Ma."
Before long, Ma Tianzheng arrived.
Feng Jun studied him with a skeptical gaze.
Ma Tianzheng, however, showed no trace of nervousness. He had wandered the jianghu for many years, seeking immortals and the Dao, meeting more people and seeing more things than most would in a lifetime.
He had once been uncertain.
But ever since witnessing Dao Xuan Tianzun manifest with his own eyes, his conviction had never wavered again.
Confidence radiated from him—not loud, not aggressive, but unmistakable.
The kind of confidence that quietly changes how others see you.
Ma Tianzheng smiled faintly and clasped his hands in greeting.
"Boundless longevity. This humble Daoist is Ma Tianzheng, disciple of Daoist Master Wang Changyue of the Quanzhen Longmen school. I greet you, Magistrate."
At the mention of Wang Changyue, Feng Jun instinctively straightened.
A master who strictly disciplined his disciples… his students should be reliable.
A favorable impression formed before Feng Jun even realized it.
"Daoist Ma," he said, "I was told you are capable of conducting a rain-invoking ritual. Is this true?"
Ma Tianzheng chuckled inwardly.
With Dao Xuan Tianzun present, this was trivial.
But he absolutely could not say that.
Promises made too confidently invited disbelief. Ambiguity, strangely, inspired faith. Years as a Daoist had taught him this well.
He sighed deeply, wearing a conflicted expression.
"Magistrate Feng, you overestimate me. This humble Daoist does know the ritual methods for praying for rain—but whether rain will actually fall is not something I can decide."
"Then who decides?" Feng Jun asked.
"Heaven, of course."
Ma Tianzheng raised a finger and pointed skyward—coincidentally toward the low cloud where Li Daoxuan lingered—then continued solemnly:
"I am merely a mortal who petitions Heaven. Whether Heaven listens, whether it grants rain, is beyond my control. If Heaven takes pity on my sincerity and bestows a few drops, that is my fortune. If Heaven ignores me, then my merit is insufficient, and I can only accept it."
He was deliberately vague.
And precisely because of that, Feng Jun felt more at ease.
That's more like it, he thought.
If you claimed guaranteed rain, I wouldn't believe you for a second. Uncertainty—that's the authentic flavor of this business.
Feng Jun didn't like charlatans.
But as a court official, he had long since learned that governance meant dealing with all forces. Appease superiors. Pressure the people. And when necessary—mislead gently.
He reasoned quietly:
Four years of drought had driven the people to desperation. If sending a Daoist to perform rain rituals gave them something to stare at the sky for every day—something other than rebellion—wasn't that a net good?
With that settled, Feng Jun decided.
"Daoist Ma, since you know the method, then regardless of the outcome, perform it. Leave immediately for Heyang County and help its people."
"If you so command," Ma Tianzheng replied, "this humble Daoist will give everything he has."
With matters settled, there was no time for idle talk. Rain, labor relief, militia wages—every delay invited disaster.
Feng Jun clasped his hands and departed at once.
Ma Tianzheng lifted his head toward the low cloud and bowed deeply.
"Your disciple will complete the task."
Then he floated after Feng Jun, robes trailing.
Grain carts soon began rolling out of Gao Family Village in great numbers.
Two routes led into Heyang County.
One followed the imperial road through Quangou Village—wide, official, and smooth enough.
The other went east through Zheng Village, descended a steep slope, then cut westward, reaching Yang Village in short order.
The slope was dangerous.
For others.
For Gao Family Village, it was nothing.
Li Daoxuan—who had not personally intervened for some time—acted again.
He produced a metal scraper and, on the very slope where Fan Shanyue had once been pelted senseless by logs and stones, he scraped swiftly.
In moments, a clean, elegant S-shaped mountain road appeared—eighteen bends, perfectly graded.
Gao Family Village laborers pushed grain carts along the newly carved road, crossing effortlessly into Heyang territory and straight to Yang Village.
Grain arrived.
The people rejoiced.
Heyang's residents lined the roads in welcome.
Flat-Rabbit and Zheng Gouzi were the "responsible escorts" for this convoy.
As they passed through the cheering crowds, Flat-Rabbit scanned the faces around him—sunken cheeks, ragged clothes, dull eyes.
Nothing like the people of Gao Family Village.
His chest tightened.
Beside him, Zheng Gouzi raised his hands into the opening stance of the Ghost-God Fist's grappling form, tense and ready.
Flat-Rabbit glanced sideways.
"Gouzi, what are you doing? Who are you planning to seize?"
"You," Zheng Gouzi replied flatly. "If you even think about tipping a grain cart again, I'll take you down the instant you move."
Flat-Rabbit shrugged.
"Relax. I learned my lesson last time. Saving people isn't about reckless heroics. That only saves a few—and might cause chaos. Real salvation requires planning. Control the whole board, and you save more people quietly, without them even realizing it."
He paused, then concluded solemnly,
"Flat-Rabbit has grown."
Zheng Gouzi squinted.
"So we call you Hero Flat-Rabbit now?"
"Large-Scale Flat-Rabbit."
Zheng Gouzi snorted.
"So you just gained weight?"
Trivia Notes
Trivia Note: Quanzhen Longmen and Credibility
The Longmen lineage emphasized discipline and moral self-cultivation at a time when Daoism's reputation was shaky. Citing one's master wasn't spiritual vanity—it was credential verification. Think résumé, not mysticism.
Trivia Note: Rain Rituals as Crowd Control
Rain ceremonies worked even when they failed. Success reinforced legitimacy. Failure redirected frustration toward Heaven instead of officials. Either outcome bought time—often the scarcest resource in governance.
Trivia Note: Roads Decide Survival
Infrastructure determines which authority feeds whom. A road carved in minutes can outweigh years of policy. Control logistics, and ideology follows later.
Trivia Note: "Heroic Impulses" vs. Systemic Power
Impulsive mercy saves faces. Systems save populations. Flat-Rabbit's growth marks the shift from emotional action to strategic thinking—a far rarer evolution.