The young waiter—now officially the deputy manager—was so happy he nearly forgot how to stand properly.
"All the leftover food… can really be given to the poor in the alley?"
Flat Rabbit stood with his hands clasped behind his back, chest puffed out, radiating the air of a tyrant CEO who had just completed a hostile takeover.
"Yes," he said calmly. "Every scrap."
The deputy manager's eyes shone. Then responsibility, like a bucket of cold water, poured down his spine.
"B-but… if we don't feed the pigs," he asked anxiously, "what will the pigs eat?"
Flat Rabbit's lips curved into a smile that did not belong to a kind man.
"Kill the pigs," he said lightly.
The entire kitchen fell silent.
"Distribute the pork to the poor," Flat Rabbit continued. "Call it an opening celebration. Benefits for the people."
The deputy manager's joy surged again—then immediately tangled itself into another knot.
"But… but then we won't have pigs anymore! What will we do when customers order twice-cooked pork? Braised pork? Shredded pork?"
Flat Rabbit froze.
His confident tyrant aura cracked, just a little.
"Ah…" he muttered. "This…"
Wang Tang burst out laughing.
"Don't worry," he said, waving his hand. "We're already planning to build a pig farm outside Xi'an. Once it's running, pork will be delivered regularly. Restaurants won't need to raise livestock anymore."
The deputy manager finally relaxed, as though his soul had been returned to its proper place.
With the immediate arrangements settled, the restaurant was temporarily left under his care. As for the official manager—Gao Family Village would later select an outstanding graduate from its middle school.
That was a matter for tomorrow.
Flat Rabbit strode out with Wang Tang, sunlight washing over his face. His grin widened.
"So," he said, rubbing his hands together, "what do we buy next?"
"The Dao Xuan Tianzun said to buy everything we can… but honestly, I don't even know where to start."
Wang Tang's gaze shifted slightly—to the signboard across the street.
Mule and Horse Exchange.
He lowered his voice. "Rabbit Master, clothing, food, housing, and transportation—these four control a city."
"Let's start with them."
Flat Rabbit's eyes lit up.
"Transportation!" he exclaimed. "Excellent!"
They strode forward together, walking like incarnations of capital itself.
Money gods descending upon mortals.
While Flat Rabbit and Wang Tang were tearing through Xi'an like a flood of silver, Li Daoxuan himself appeared outside the Prince of Qin's residence.
Birdcage in hand.
The mansion's gates loomed solemn and imposing. The street in front of them was utterly deserted.
Ordinary people avoided this place instinctively.
Li Daoxuan didn't approach directly. Instead, he entered a restaurant diagonally opposite, took a private room on the second floor, and sat by the window.
From there, the Prince of Qin's residence lay fully within view.
The conflict had entered its second phase.
Open confrontation was over.
Now came the underhanded struggle.
Li Daoxuan did not want his people to be outplayed here.
So he decided to personally flip the enemy's cards.
Since ancient times, covert struggles had followed one iron rule:
Whoever controls intelligence controls fate.
The Prince of Qin's residence was not yet inside his diorama's direct field of view, so Li Daoxuan couldn't use "focus."
But he still had co-sensing.
As long as a Dao Xuan Tianzun statue existed inside the residence—no matter how small, no matter its form—he could enter through it.
Facing the opulent mansion, Li Daoxuan activated co-sensing.
Instantly, countless faint anchors appeared before him.
Near and far. Large and small.
He couldn't tell what they were or where they led.
That meant only one thing.
Trial and error.
He chose the nearest anchor to his front-right and slipped through.
The world shifted.
Li Daoxuan found himself in a cramped, dilapidated room—clearly a servant's quarters. The furnishings were poor. He was perched atop a table.
On that table lay a book.
"Dao Xuan Tianzun: Demon Slayer."
He had landed on the image printed on its cover.
Li Daoxuan chuckled inwardly.
So even the Prince of Qin's servants are reading this now.
Just as the thought settled, the door creaked open.
A maid entered—wearing coarse hemp clothing, movements unpolished. She was clearly new, likely sold into service not long ago.
She shut the door.
Then she began to undress.
Fast.
Too fast.
Li Daoxuan's heart jolted.
Heavens—no, no, no.
This was a girl trapped by fate. He had no interest in stealing her dignity.
He immediately switched co-sensing.
The scene changed again.
This time, he hovered above a stable.
Horses stood in rows, lowering their heads to eat fodder.
On one saddle hung an embroidered cloth—Chengcheng embroidery, a local specialty, once sold only to nobles and high officials.
Tigers. Horses. Qilin. Phoenixes.
And now—mixed subtly among them—
Dao Xuan Tianzun.
The girls of Chengcheng County had stitched him in without ceremony, without fear.
These embroideries had become perfect co-sensing anchors.
Still, a stable wasn't very interesting.
Li Daoxuan was about to move again—
When voices entered.
A group of men walked in, dressed like wandering martial artists, but their bearing was unmistakable.
Soldiers.
One muttered, "The Prince of Qin's heir is furious this time—ordering us to disguise ourselves as bandits."
Another snorted. "Those civil officials overreached. They brought in who-knows-what big shots to guard the fertilizer shop—and even beat our people."
"How could His Highness not be angry?"
"Where's the ambush?" someone asked.
The leader spoke coldly. "The only route from Chengcheng County to Xi'an. Find a forest. Hide."
"Once the fertilizer sells out, they'll transport more."
"We intercept them."
"And slaughter everyone."
A sharp intake of breath followed.
"If this leaks—"
"Then don't let it leak," the leader snapped. "Fail, and you kill yourselves. Do not be captured alive."
Silence fell.
Their lives belonged to the Prince of Qin.
They mounted their horses and rode out of the city.
The embroidered Dao Xuan Tianzun swayed at a saddle's edge, accompanying them northward.
They rode fifty li—beyond the Wei River, near what would one day be called Gaoling.
There, beside the official road, they hid in the woods.
Waiting.
For the fertilizer convoy.
Li Daoxuan withdrew his consciousness.
His expression was calm.
But his eyes were cold.
So that's your card.