News of the Gao Family Village Tour Group spread through the settlement faster than a gossip who'd just discovered a new scandal and had no one to tell.
Objectively speaking, the villagers were no longer poor.
In fact, by any external standard, Gao Family Village was offensively wealthy.
For years now, even the most ordinary artisans earned a steady three taels of silver a month. That wasn't survival money—that was savings money. The kind that let people sleep with their hands off their purses.
And yet—
When people saw the price tag—ten taels of silver per person—their hands reflexively clutched their chests.
Ten taels.
That was more than three months of wages.
Three months of work… for one trip.
Even if the Saintess herself was backing it.
Even if Dao Xuan Tianzun's name was practically glowing in the background.
Most villagers stared at the registration booth from afar, calculating silently, then turned away with long sighs.
I could fix the roof.
I could buy a new loom.
I could pretend I'm going to travel… and then not.
Still—no village is ever made of "most people."
There are always a few who look at a price tag and think not too expensive, but interesting.
The first to step forward was the Old Village Chief.
Bamboo slippers.
Threadbare vest.
White beard so long it looked like it had opinions.
If you didn't know better, you'd think he was here to complain about something.
Instead, he marched straight up to Dong Xue's table and slapped down ten taels of silver with a decisive thud.
"I'm in."
Dong Xue nearly jumped.
"V-venerable elder!" she exclaimed. "Perhaps… perhaps you shouldn't? The journey will be long, and if anything were to happen on the road—"
The Old Village Chief snorted so hard his beard trembled.
"What's this?" he barked. "You think I'm too old?"
He straightened, eyes sharp.
"It's because I'm old that I must go. When I was young, I was poor. The farthest I ever traveled was the county town. Now I finally have money—am I supposed to sit at home and wait to die like a mountain rat?"
Dong Xue faltered. "B-but your health—"
The Old Village Chief lifted his bamboo staff.
Crack.
He snapped it clean in half with his bare hands.
He glared at her. "What about it?"
Dong Xue immediately bowed. "Please enjoy your journey, venerable elder."
That single act—ten taels and one broken staff—was like lighting a fuse.
The wealthier villagers surged forward.
Gao Laba, who'd built a small fortune selling rice noodles, arrived grinning ear to ear. Travel? Food? New sights? He didn't even hesitate.
Thirty taels hit the table.
"My whole family," he said cheerfully.
Then came Liu You, owner of Shuixian Heluo Noodles. He brought everyone—wife, children, confidence—and slapped down thirty taels without blinking.
"You may now address me," he announced proudly, "as Filthy Rich."
No one corrected him.
Master Zhang of the Daoqing Troupe arrived next, dragging half his performers along with him.
"Singers need inspiration," he said solemnly. "Dancers need scenery. Musicians need new places to complain about."
No one argued.
Then—
"Mom! Let's go too!"
Gao Sanwa came sprinting over, tugging his mother toward the booth.
Gao Sanniang hesitated, visibly uncomfortable.
"Son, let's not trouble them. It's ten taels per person… twenty for the two of us. Your mother isn't as wealthy as your Uncle Laba."
Gao Sanwa laughed, chest puffed out.
"Mom, I'm loaded. My comic Tapo Tianqiong is selling like crazy. I earn money just sitting around! And Quan Dong Xuankun is about to be published too. Twenty taels? That's pocket change!"
He grabbed her hand eagerly.
"I'll take you out! We'll eat good food and see the Yellow River Bridge!"
Gao Sanniang's eyes shone.
"My son… truly has prospects."
Elsewhere—
Madam Bai clutched Young Master Bai's sleeve.
"Son, come with me!"
Young Master Bai recoiled like she'd asked him to abandon civilization.
"No! Impossible! The steam locomotive design is at a critical stage! This concerns the future of Gao Family Village!"
Madam Bai's grip loosened.
"…You're right. Work comes first."
She turned away, discreetly wiping her eyes.
Young Master Bai froze.
Then mentally slapped himself.
A moment later, he linked arms with her.
"I'll take a break," he said quickly. "No research. I'll go with you."
Madam Bai beamed.
"My son is truly filial!"
Even San Shier arrived—hand in hand with his daughter—paid for three spots without explanation, and left calmly.
As they walked away, his voice drifted back.
"Daughter… does your chemical factory make medicine for, ah… restoring certain functions?"
San Xiaojie replied coolly, "We can kill someone instantly."
San Shier sighed. "Then perhaps we'll pass."
She rolled her eyes. "Father, you should be more philosophical."
"Mind your tone," he retorted. "You're sounding improper."
"It's called 'Near vermilion, one is stained red.'"
"Then it's 'Near ink, one is stained black.'"
They walked off, argument unresolved.
Three days later, the tour departed.
Dong Xue led the group—an eclectic parade of Gao Family Village's newly wealthy.
Heyang County.
Qichuan Port.
The mighty gunboats of the village navy.
Every stop felt worth the silver.
Then—the Linyi Yellow River Bridge.
Wind in their faces. Water roaring below.
Ten taels suddenly felt cheap.
The next day, they entered Puzhou's outskirts, passing factory towns buzzing like living creatures. Workers. Smoke. Cafeterias tossing ladles like weapons.
Finally, Puzhou City.
Night fell.
Most collapsed into bed immediately.
Except—
The Old Village Chief.
Sleep avoided him like a debt collector.
He wandered the streets… and heard talk of a concert.
He smiled.
The next morning, rumors exploded through Puzhou's teahouses.
A mysterious patron.
A hundred-tael ingot tossed onto the stage.
No name. No trace.
The "big brother" vanished.
But his legend lingered.
As legends always do.
And somewhere far away, Gao Family Village continued quietly producing people who, once they tasted the world, would never quite fit back into small lives again.