Gao Yiye smiled.
It was the kind of smile that bloomed at exactly the wrong time—polite, composed, and faintly amused, as if she'd just heard a joke that was technically treason but emotionally very funny.
Buying and selling official posts.
An old Ming classic. Vintage corruption. A legacy craft passed down like porcelain—fragile, expensive, and guaranteed to shatter the moment anyone pretended it was righteous.
The Dao Xuan Tianzun had never approved of such things.
During her ideological lessons, he had explained the matter with surgical clarity: once offices could be bought, governance became a market stall, loyalty became a receipt, and the people became inventory that nobody bothered to count properly.
And yet—
Most of the time, these stories involved greasy officials, furtive bribes, and ink-stained hands trembling over ledgers.
This time?
The emperor himself was running the stall.
No disguise. No intermediaries. Just desperation dressed in dragon robes.
A soft, amused chuckle echoed inside her consciousness.
"When a man has only one shred of dignity left," the Dao Xuan Tianzun said lightly, "he tends to throw it at the floor himself—so no one else can say they made him do it."
Gao Yiye's cheeks warmed.
"That kind of remark isn't suitable for a young woman," she murmured inwardly. "Dao Xuan Tianzun, you're becoming increasingly mischievous."
She paused, then added quietly, "Especially after that comment last time about how I'd look 'more pleasantly plump' if I gained weight."
The Dao Xuan Tianzun laughed, unrepentant.
Wu Shen was still standing there, waiting for an answer, his carefully prepared "final trump card" hovering awkwardly in the air like an offering nobody had agreed to accept.
Gao Yiye didn't respond immediately.
Instead, she turned her gaze to Shi Kefa.
"Minister Shi," she asked calmly, "when the Prince of Qin's household seized the celestial fertilizer… what did that make you think of?"
Shi Kefa's heart slammed violently against his ribs.
In an instant, dangerous phrases flared through his mind—advanced productive forces, backward power structures, structural contradictions—
He shuddered.
Then, like a man trying to fling a spider off his shoulder, he shook his head fiercely, as if physical motion could dislodge treasonous enlightenment.
"No," he said stiffly. "Nothing at all."
Gao Yiye smiled.
She did not pursue the matter.
Some seeds, after all, sprouted better when watered later.
Her gaze returned to Wu Shen.
"Minister Wu," she said, voice gentle, "if I extend credit for another shipment of celestial fertilizer… can you guarantee it won't be seized again?"
Wu Shen opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"Well… ah… this…"
Yes.
That was the heart of the problem.
He thought carefully, visibly thinking himself into a corner.
"I can post guards," he said finally. "Increase patrols. Secure the fertilizer shop. I will absolutely prevent the Prince of Qin's household from interfering again."
Gao Yiye tilted her head slightly.
"That won't work."
The words were soft. Almost apologetic.
"You're a civil official," she continued. "You don't command troops. At best, you can mobilize local constables and garrison soldiers."
She paused.
"And they're all from Xi'an."
The silence thickened.
"Which local soldier," she asked mildly, "would dare offend the Prince of Qin's household?"
Wu Shen felt the answer land on his chest like a sack of bricks.
"If the Prince's men arrive," Gao Yiye went on, "those guards won't stop them. They'll help carry the fertilizer—carefully, even. Possibly with smiles."
Wu Shen said nothing.
Shi Kefa rubbed his temples.
This wasn't speculation. This was reality, spoken out loud with embarrassing clarity.
Gao Yiye concluded, "Unless you use my people."
Wu Shen looked up. "Your people?"
"They're not from Xi'an," she said. "They don't live under the Prince of Qin's shadow. They don't eat his rice."
Her eyes were calm.
"They'll guard the fertilizer. And if someone comes to seize it…"
She hesitated.
The word came out softer than intended.
"…they'll fight."
There was a brief, awkward pause.
Then—
"Beat them flat!"
The shout exploded from behind her.
Flat Rabbit grinned broadly, baring his teeth like a man who'd been waiting his entire life for that cue.
Yes, it was improper.
Yes, guards weren't supposed to interrupt their leader.
But Flat Rabbit had never been one for etiquette. In Gao Family Village, he was famous for respecting exactly two things: orders he liked, and fights he could win.
And in this moment, his enthusiasm neatly compensated for the gentle tone Gao Yiye had used.
Wu Shen raised an eyebrow. "You really dare confront the Prince of Qin's household?"
Flat Rabbit snorted.
"Villains who bully the common folk?" he said cheerfully. "There isn't a single one I wouldn't dare hit. This Flat Rabbit roams the jianghu for exactly this reason—righting wrongs and cracking skulls."
Wu Shen murmured, "I see."
A madman, he concluded.
Shi Kefa leaned forward. "If he dares to strike," he said quietly, "then I dare to shield him."
Wu Shen felt the same.
The Prince of Qin's household was powerful—but power meant different things to different people.
Civil officials weren't afraid of princes.
They were only afraid of losing before they could write about it.
As long as no formal troops were mobilized—only household retainers—the aftermath would be endless memorials, accusations, counter-accusations.
And in that battlefield?
The pen always bled more than the sword.
Wu Shen and Shi Kefa exchanged a glance.
Agreement passed between them without words.
Wu Shen turned back to Gao Yiye.
"Miss Gao," he said firmly, "your people will guard the shop. If conflict arises, I will personally bear all consequences."
Gao Yiye smiled.
"Then there will be no problem."
The next morning, wagons filled Chengcheng County's streets.
Celestial fertilizer—stacked, sealed, guarded.
Rain had fallen across Shaanxi and Shanxi. Snow followed.
The old saying went: auspicious snow promises a good year.
Which meant land would be planted again.
Which meant fertilizer would be fought over again.
Gao Family Village had prepared dozens of wagons, forming a convoy long enough to turn heads and tighten throats.
At the front rode Flat Rabbit and Zheng Gouzi, leading a hundred militia members.
No armor. No flintlock rifles.
Only blades.
Flat Rabbit laughed loudly.
"Xi'an!" he roared. "This Flat Rabbit has arrived! My first stop on my journey of chivalry—and of course it's the grandest city around!"
Zheng Gouzi rolled his eyes. "Without armor or rifles, our advantage is thin. Don't get yourself butchered by the Prince of Qin's household."
Flat Rabbit waved dismissively. "Only small men worry about equipment. A true hero needs nothing but cloth robes and a three-foot blade."
Zheng Gouzi covered his face.
Flat Rabbit stroked his weapon lovingly. "Today, this Flat Rabbit shall use this blade to uphold peace under heaven!"
"May I punch you now?" Zheng Gouzi asked flatly.
At that moment, a straw-hatted figure atop a wagon lifted his head.
"Xi'an's in sight."
Flat Rabbit squinted.
Then froze.
"DAO XUAN TIANZUN?!"
Both men nearly fell off their horses.
"Why are you here?" they exclaimed.
The Dao Xuan Tianzun smiled faintly.
"For fun."
Which, somehow, was never the whole truth—but was never a lie either.
As Li Daoxuan's vision drew closer to Xi'an, the ancient capital began to reveal itself.
One more push.
One more spark of order.
One more fraction of well-being.
And the city would open itself fully before him.
A city that had seen everything.
And was about to see more.