"Experience the staff cafeteria?"
Magistrate Qiu almost choked on air.
Absolutely not.
He didn't say it out loud, of course. A man of his rank had manners. A face. Even when refusing something outrageous, one must refuse with elegance.
Eating the same food as laborers? Standing in line with grimy hands and sweaty backs?
That wasn't dining. That was social suicide.
So he folded his hands into his sleeves, cleared his throat, and delivered the safest possible excuse.
"This official… is not hungry at the moment. I fear I wouldn't be able to eat even a bite."
Perfect. Polite. Untouchable.
Gao Yiye didn't argue.
She simply nodded. "Oh? Then we'll head over ourselves."
She turned around, smiling brightly at the guards behind her.
"You've all been walking all morning. Hungry, aren't you? Let's eat at the steel factory cafeteria."
The guards lit up instantly.
Flat Rabbit laughed so hard his shoulders shook. "Perfect timing! I was starving."
Zheng Gouzi rubbed his hands together. "I've wanted to eat here forever. Heard the food's no worse than what we get at camp."
Flat Rabbit scratched his chin. "We can't all go. Someone should stay and protect the Saintess. Let's split up. Gouzi, you take half the men first—"
"No need."
Gao Yiye waved him off casually.
"I'll go with all of you."
Magistrate Qiu's eyelid twitched.
She's… going herself?
He stared after her retreating figure, expression unreadable.
What kind of woman is this Madam Li?
To eat common laborers' food so openly… does she not fear damaging the Li family's reputation?
Fine.
He'd watch.
He stood aside, hands folded, posture impeccable — and observed.
The cafeteria hadn't even opened yet.
A hundred guards lined up behind Gao Yiye, forming a long, disorderly snake that immediately obliterated any illusion of "dignified queue."
When the wooden shutters finally slid open—
"Line up properly! No pushing! One by one!"
An older woman appeared behind the window, ladle in hand, voice sharp enough to cut steel.
"What do you want?"
"This, this… and that one."
The spoon flew.
A casual flick — and a chunk of braised pork launched cleanly out of the ladle, tumbling through the air like a sacrificial offering… straight back into the pot.
The worker holding his meal box let out a tragic cry.
"Ah—! Auntie! Please don't flick the spoon!"
Just then, a hand reached in from the side.
"Let me."
The woman jumped. "Dao Xuan Tianzun!"
"No need to panic."
Li Daoxuan gently nudged her aside, took the ladle, plunged it deep into the braised pork — deep, like he was dredging treasure from the seabed — and scooped up a mountain.
No flick. No finesse.
He dumped it straight into the box.
Thud.
"Eat more," he said cheerfully.
The worker froze, then nearly cried on the spot.
"Thank you! Thank you, Dao Xuan Tianzun!"
Li Daoxuan laughed.
"Today is the Dao Xuan Tianzun Extra Meat Festival! Everyone gets more meat!"
The woman whispered anxiously from behind him.
"If you serve like this, we'll run out…"
"Relax." Li Daoxuan didn't even look back.
"The main batch of workers won't arrive for another half-hour. I've already ordered takeout. Fresh braised pork arrives in thirty minutes."
She didn't understand what "takeout" meant.
But she did understand Dao Xuan Tianzun.
So she shut up.
The ladle kept moving.
Every plate received an obscene amount of meat.
Smiles spread like an epidemic.
Then it was Gao Yiye's turn.
She leaned forward, eyes sparkling.
"Tianzun, I want more vegetables. Less meat."
Li Daoxuan raised an eyebrow.
"You're young. Still growing. Why avoid meat?"
"I'll get fat."
"And?"
"I don't want to get fat!"
Li Daoxuan burst out laughing.
"A little softness feels better to the touch!"
The words landed.
Hard.
Gao Yiye's face turned crimson instantly.
A maiden of this era stood no chance against modern shamelessness.
She grabbed her meal box like it was a shield and fled.
When they returned, Magistrate Qiu was still standing where he'd been — dignified, composed, and extremely hungry.
He himself was unmoved.
But his yamen runners?
Their eyes had already betrayed them.
The meal boxes were heavy.
Steaming.
Overflowing.
Glossy chunks of braised pork shimmered under the sun.
A runner swallowed. Loudly.
Another pressed a hand to his stomach.
Gao Yiye noticed and smiled.
"Go eat."
They looked at Magistrate Qiu, eyes begging.
Magistrate Qiu sighed deeply.
"Go."
They ran.
By the time they finished, the real lunch bell rang.
Workshops emptied. Workers flooded toward the cafeteria, laughing, chatting.
Every service window opened.
Every auntie—
flicked their spoon.
It was clearly a required skill.
Li Daoxuan, having had enough fun, returned the ladle.
The flicking resumed immediately.
The tour continued.
Everyone was full.
Everyone except Magistrate Qiu.
His stomach growled.
The sun had crossed noon.
He endured.
They reached the sports ground.
Rows of workers stood in formation.
Marching.
Turning.
Stomping in unison, thunder rolling across the ground.
Magistrate Qiu frowned.
"What is this?"
"Military training," Gao Yiye replied.
"…Military training?"
"General Xing can't be everywhere. If danger comes, workers must know how to defend themselves."
Magistrate Qiu nodded slowly.
"Ah. Militia."
"Yes." Gao Yiye smiled. "That's the word."
The formation moved.
At the far end stood long tables.
On them — muskets.
The workers grabbed them. Fixed bayonets.
Thrust.
"Kill!"
"Kill!"
"Kill!"
The sound punched the air.
Magistrate Qiu sucked in a sharp breath.
"…Wait."
He turned to Gao Yiye, eyes wide.
"Your militia…"
"They're training with firearms?"
"…Are you kidding me?"