Wei Yenwu had governed Lungmen for eight years.
Over those eight years, he had worked with tireless diligence, neglecting sleep and food alike, driven by a single goal: to hold on to this city he had won only after paying an immeasurable price.
Natural disasters? Human calamities?
Only after sitting in this position could one truly understand that taking a city was easy. Holding it, governing it, and keeping it prosperous was far harder than anyone imagined.
A report lay in Wei Yenwu's hand.
Because of the approaching Catastrophe, Lungmen had been forced to abandon 28% of its agricultural sectors and 34% of its breeding sectors. On top of that, the Catastrophe's effects had slashed this quarter's yields from part of the remaining farmland. By next spring, Lungmen's grain output would be nearly halved compared to this year.
What did that mean?
It meant that if Lungmen could not obtain aid from other mobile cities, famine would descend on the city next year, and the lives of its several million inhabitants would all hang by a thread.
At a time like this, the childish farce of a little girl clamoring to see her father simply did not merit Wei Yenwu's attention.
So his response was only one curt sentence.
"I understand."
For the sake of this city, his sworn brothers had died. His own flesh-and-blood sister had died. Countless retainers who had followed him had died.
And so now, this city was everything to him.
…
"What? The price of fish meat went up again?"
Standing in front of the Chen Family Fishball Shop, Chen Zhaoming frowned as he listened to the delivery hand explain the new prices.
These past few days, the cost of fish meat had been rising every three days. If he insisted on keeping his fishballs at the same price, then before long, the cost of buying the fish alone would be enough to push the entire shop into the red.
"Yeah."
The delivery hand looked just as miserable.
"It's not just fish meat—other food prices are rising too. If this keeps up, the little bit I earn working won't even be enough to feed my whole family."
"Did something happen in the fish-breeding sectors?"
Chen Zhaoming could not help asking. Right now, all of Lungmen had been thrown into panic over rising food prices, and in Chen Zhaoming's eyes, that made no sense at all.
Terra was a civilization built on treads.
Because of the many kinds of Catastrophes that ravaged the land, Terrans had built their cities on giant vehicles, until, in time, those cities had developed into nations that could both fight and run.
Lungmen itself was also a mobile city.
The people of Lungmen lived their entire lives atop a city that could race across the land. Residential zones were set aside for housing, agricultural zones for farming, breeding zones for livestock and aquaculture.
If a Catastrophe struck—a volcanic eruption, a storm, an earthquake, a meteor shower—the city would simply move to safety as though it had grown legs of its own.
And a prosperous mobile city would inevitably have a great many Catastrophe Messengers serving it.
One Messenger might make a mistake, but not all of them.
Once a Catastrophe was predicted, the city would have ample time to prepare its relocation in advance.
Under those circumstances, even if there were losses, how could they possibly affect a metropolis like Lungmen, with a population in the millions?
There was no way Lungmen lacked contingency plans. Every mobile city on Terra possessed the ability to sustain itself. It was not as though Lungmen needed to buy grain from other cities every single year.
And even allowing for emergencies, did Lungmen's granaries really have no reserves stored away at all?
Chen Zhaoming could not make sense of it.
The delivery hand pulled a bitter face. "Who knows? I only heard the shopkeeper say prices were going up. Something like the breeding sectors going wrong is major business. I wouldn't dare run my mouth about it."
The delivery hand left.
But the problem remained.
"Brother, what are we supposed to do? If fish meat keeps getting more expensive, then in a few months we'll have to shut down and slink back home in disgrace."
The little accountant of the fishball shop, Chen Zhaoqian, wore the same long face. If they had to go back now, coming out again later would not be so easy. By then, her parents might very well arrange a marriage for her.
After all, in Yan, eighteen was already considered fully marriageable age.
"This is strange. Panicking won't help."
Chen Zhaoming went back into the house and brought out a stack of Lungmen dollars.
"Zhaoqian, go buy up some rice and flour first, just in case. Lungmen is Wei Yenwu's life's work—there's no way he'll just stand by and watch food prices keep rising."
"But one day of rising is still rising, and two days of rising is still rising."
"We should make preparations first. If something really happens later, at least we won't be caught completely off guard."
Back when he had been Ch'en Hui-chieh's father, he had technically been Wei Yenwu's brother-in-law. No matter how much of a bastard Wei Yenwu was, he would never have just watched his own brother-in-law and nieces starve to death.
But now, he was only a small vendor selling fishballs on a city street.
Wei Yenwu stood high above the masses—why would he care whether some petty shopkeeper lived or died?
"I understand."
Chen Zhaoqian nodded hard. As she took the Lungmen dollars, she also did not forget to grab the staff propped in the corner.
The Chen family might have fallen on hard times, but they were still, at heart, a great Yan clan—a genuine noble house. Any child of the Chen family with even a shred of talent had martial training.
In Chen Zhaoming's memories, the reason he had been able to establish himself in the lower city and open a fishball shop without anyone coming to collect protection money had never been because of some noble pedigree.
It was simply because he and Chen Zhaoqian could fight.
Naturally, they were far inferior to the elite imperial guards.
But dealing with a few street gangs was effortless.
Chen Zhaoqian went off to buy rice and flour, while Chen Zhaoming began tidying up the shop.
The soaring cost of fish meat was the concern of the suppliers. Opening the shop and doing business was what a man who sold fishballs and noodles ought to concern himself with.
Perhaps because he had opened so early, while the sky was still only beginning to lighten, there were not many customers coming in for fishball noodles.
Still, the rise in food prices had finally begun to affect ordinary people.
A good number of customers came in and first asked whether the fishballs had gone up in price. Only after hearing that they had not did they let out a small sigh of relief.
Business was poor enough that Chen Zhaoming found his thoughts drifting.
At this hour, it was probably about time for lessons to begin at the school, wasn't it?
In the past, he would always get up early, make two bowls of noodles, then wake the two little sleepyheads. Once they had finished eating, he would take them to school himself.
Now that he was gone, was Wei Yenwu having servants look after them?
"Boss Chen, only a few days apart, and your cooking's improved again."
A rough male voice suddenly rang out inside the shop, cutting off Chen Zhaoming's train of thought.
As soon as the voice sounded, several others chimed in.
"That's right, that's right. I'd say Boss Chen's skills are no worse than those big-name chefs in the upper city."
"And the key is that it's cheap. Everywhere else has raised prices, but Boss Chen hasn't."
"Boss Chen's an honest man!"
Praises rose one after another.
Sometimes, building a reputation really was that simple. Ordinary people all had their own scales in their hearts; they knew perfectly well what was good and what was bad.
Of course, there might have been a bit of cleverness mixed in as well.
For example: every other place had raised prices, but he had not. So if they praised him loudly enough now and propped him up on that pedestal, wouldn't he be too embarrassed to follow suit and raise prices later?
So Chen Zhaoming merely smiled.
He had told Zhaoqian that the shop would not raise prices—but who knew what the future held?
By the time the laborers rushing off to work had all left, the shop, which had been lively a moment before, turned quiet and chilly again.
Zhaoqian probably would not be back until noon.
They were buying rice and flour in bulk, after all—not ten jin or a hundred jin, but a thousand or more at a time.
After all, they were running a shop. One or two thousand jin of grain looked like a lot, but when business was good, it was only enough to last ten days to half a month.
Chen Zhaoming did, however, notice a tall figure in somewhat shabby clothes standing outside the entrance for a very long time.
Since there was no business in the shop anyway, he called out, "Miss, the wind outside is strong. Why not come in, sit down, and have a bowl of fishball noodles to warm yourself?"
"…"
After quite a while, the tall woman finally seemed to realize that Chen Zhaoming was speaking to her.
She remained silent for another moment before answering in a low voice:
"I don't have any money."
"Heh, that's no problem. Everyone runs into difficulties when they're away from home."
Chen Zhaoming replied with a genial smile.
"Just treat it as putting it on my tab. When you've got money someday, you can pay me back then."
"…All right."
The tall woman did not put on airs. She gave Chen Zhaoming a serious look, as though fixing his appearance firmly in her memory.
Only then did Chen Zhaoming notice that although her hair looked dull and dusty at first glance, it was actually green. And on her forehead grew a single horn.
And when she stepped inside, letting him see clearly the nearly man-high triangular shield she carried in one hand, his eyelid twitched.
The woman's identity was already obvious.
…
-------
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