The two figures moved through the darkened streets of Xi'an.
Whenever they spotted a sheltered alley, they slipped inside to take a look. If they found refugees huddled within, they would leave behind a handful of clipped silver—nothing more, nothing less.
They walked, gave, and moved on.
Before long, the pouch of silver was empty.
Flat Rabbit immediately turned and sprinted back toward the fertilizer shop. He found the large cart, hoisted another heavy sack of silver onto his shoulder, and returned to the streets, resuming his rounds alley by alley.
The first two trips were manageable.
By the third, his breathing grew ragged. White clouds of breath burst from his mouth as he staggered forward, legs heavy, shoulders screaming in protest.
Just as Dao Xuan Tianzun had said—his strength alone was pitifully limited.
Even if Dao Xuan Tianzun provided endless silver, how much could one man carry?
How many trips could he make?
Saving the common people of the world was not a matter of goodwill alone.
When they were more than halfway through the third sack, they arrived at Xi'an's most prosperous street.
Snow fell thickly, yet the street blazed with warmth and indulgence. Lanterns glowed like fire. Laughter spilled from taverns. Scholars recited verses over wine, their sleeves heavy with perfume and arrogance. Brothels hummed with music and pleasure.
Flat Rabbit snorted. "Hmph! 'Behind crimson gates, wine and… what was the rest again?'"
Dao Xuan Tianzun replied evenly, "'Behind crimson gates, wine and meat rot; along the roadside, people freeze to death.'"
Flat Rabbit nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes! Dao Xuan Tianzun truly knows everything."
Dao Xuan Tianzun gestured ahead. "Look at the corner."
Flat Rabbit followed his gaze.
By the side entrance of a large tavern, a group of refugees waited in silence, huddled together like shadows. Moments later, a table of scholars finished their feast and stood to leave.
A waiter hurried over to clear the dishes.
He scraped the leftovers—bones, cold rice, half-eaten scraps—into a wooden basin with loud clattering sounds. Then, glancing around nervously, he slipped toward the side door while the manager wasn't looking.
He cracked the door open just enough to pass the basin outside.
The refugees surged forward instantly, grabbing handfuls of scraps, stuffing them into their mouths as if afraid the food might vanish.
The waiter whispered urgently, "Quiet! Don't make a sound. If the manager catches me, I'll be fired—and you won't get anything next time."
The refugees nodded frantically. Their movements slowed.
Inside the tavern, the manager's thunderous voice erupted.
"Siwa! Siwa! Where the hell are you sneaking off to?"
"I told you to dump the leftovers for the pigs! Where did you crawl off to?"
The waiter flinched. "Coming! Coming! I was just… relieving myself!"
"Lazy ox! Lazy horse!" the manager roared. "Always full of piss and shit!"
The waiter returned meekly, enduring a storm of curses as the manager twisted his ear viciously.
Flat Rabbit's eyes burned. "Damn it! I'll kill that manager!"
"No."
Dao Xuan Tianzun shook his head.
"Do not commit evil in the name of justice," he said calmly. "That man is petty and cruel, but he does not deserve death."
Flat Rabbit clenched his fists.
Dao Xuan Tianzun continued, "Killing is easy. Deciding who should die is hard. If you cannot tell the difference, you are not a hero—you are merely a reckless demon."
Flat Rabbit fell silent.
Dao Xuan Tianzun asked, "Think carefully. What is the best solution right now?"
Flat Rabbit frowned, brain working furiously.
After a long while, his eyes lit up. "Dao Xuan Tianzun! Let's find the owner of this tavern, buy it, kick out that manager, and promote the waiter to manager!"
Dao Xuan Tianzun smiled faintly. "A good thought. Still wrong."
Flat Rabbit froze. "Why?"
"Can the waiter read?" Dao Xuan Tianzun asked.
"Can he keep accounts?"
"Can he manage people, suppliers, taxes, officials?"
He continued evenly, "You saw his kindness and mistook it for competence. That mistake ruins more lives than cruelty ever does."
Flat Rabbit swallowed.
"If the tavern collapses in a few months," Dao Xuan Tianzun went on, "what then? If guilt crushes him and he hangs himself, will your kindness have saved anyone?"
Flat Rabbit stared. "I… I didn't think that far."
He fell silent again.
Then—understanding struck.
"I know!" he said quickly. "We buy the tavern. We transfer a literate, numerate man from Gao Family Village to serve as head manager. Then we hire this waiter as assistant manager."
Dao Xuan Tianzun nodded. "This time, you're right."
He added, "Remember this. Tomorrow, investigate who owns this tavern. If it can be bought, acquire it. Do exactly as you said."
Flat Rabbit beamed. "Following Dao Xuan Tianzun, I'm learning more every day."
Dao Xuan Tianzun said calmly, "Xi'an is different from Gao Family Village. We cannot openly seize control—doing so would invite disaster."
He continued, "What cannot be done openly must be done quietly. We'll begin by taking over businesses across every trade in this city."
He placed a hand on Flat Rabbit's shoulder.
"You have many flaws," he said, "but you possess one rare virtue. You are not greedy for wealth, nor lustful for women."
He glanced at the glowing street. "In a city soaked in indulgence, you will not lose yourself. Sugar-coated bullets won't pierce you."
"So," he concluded, "I'll leave Xi'an to you."
Flat Rabbit was overwhelmed. "Thank you for trusting me, Dao Xuan Tianzun!"
"I only said half," Li Daoxuan replied. "You also possess flaws most people don't."
Flat Rabbit was instantly speechless.
"Go," Dao Xuan Tianzun said. "Distribute more silver."
Flat Rabbit groaned. "Dao Xuan Tianzun, I really can't carry any more. Hauling hundreds of jin through these streets will kill me!"
"Then we continue tomorrow night," Dao Xuan Tianzun decided.
Flat Rabbit sighed deeply.
At dawn.
As the sky barely brightened, the doors of Xi'an's official grain store shook violently under the pounding of fists.
Wu Shen, the imperial censor most attentive to disaster relief, was roused immediately.
He threw on his padded robe and rushed outside.
A dense mass of refugees pressed against the grain store gates, shouting and jostling. Those in front hammered on the doors.
"Open up! It's daybreak! Hurry!"
The grain store manager yanked the door open, face sour. "What's the noise? Even if I open, you can't afford anything."
"We have money!" the refugees shouted together. "We have money now!"
The manager stared.
Hands spread open.
Silver fragments glittered in every palm.
The manager was dumbstruck. "What… what is this?"
Wu Shen, standing nearby, was equally stunned. "Where did all this silver come from?"
But that wasn't the important part.
Money existed.
That was reality.
Wu Shen raised his hand sharply. "Sell them grain."
The store burst into motion. Weighing, bagging, hauling—everyone worked at once.
Each refugee spent a few qian of silver and received a dou of grain—ten catties.
Mixed with wild vegetables, bark, and roots, eaten carefully—
It would keep them alive for dozens of days.
And sometimes—
That was enough.