Year 1627. The seventh year of the Tianqi reign. Chengcheng County, Shaanxi.
Gao Chuwu led three other young men from Gao Family Village through the county town's main gate.
All four of them were true country bumpkins who had never traveled beyond their village before. The journey, more than thirty li in total, had been anything but smooth. They had relied entirely on asking strangers for directions, often taking wrong turns and doubling back before finally finding the correct path.
By the time they reached the county gate, the sun hung high overhead.
It was noon, the most brutal hour of the day. Heat radiated from the earth in shimmering waves, and the air itself felt heavy enough to suffocate. The temperature had climbed close to forty degrees, leaving the four young men drenched in sweat and gasping for breath.
Their legs felt like lead. Their heads spun. Even their thoughts seemed sluggish.
"Brother Chuwu," one of them said nervously between breaths, "if we're looking for the strategist, we need to go to the county yamen, right?"
He hesitated before adding in a quieter voice, "I've heard the magistrate eats people without even spitting out the bones."
Another swallowed hard.
"And the yamen runners are no better. They're vicious too."
Fear was written plainly across their faces.
Gao Chuwu was no exception.
He had never traveled more than ten li from home in his entire life, and the mere sight of the county town's tall buildings and bustling streets was enough to make his heart pound uncontrollably.
Instinctively, he reached into his travel sack and touched the broken pieces of Divine Rice inside.
Before they left, the Village Chief had given each of them five pieces, warning them to save it for emergencies.
The moment his fingers brushed against it, his racing heart gradually steadied.
"What's there to be afraid of?" he said, forcing confidence into his voice. "Tianzun is backing us."
At the mention of Tianzun, the others felt a surge of reassurance.
That was right.
They had Tianzun.
With that thought in mind, their courage returned, if only a little.
They proceeded cautiously, asking for directions whenever necessary, and after some effort, finally arrived outside the county yamen.
But the moment they reached the entrance, they froze.
A middle-aged man stood at the gate, wailing loudly.
He was pale-faced, clean-shaven, and slightly plump, dressed in a long scholar's gown. His posture and appearance marked him as someone of status, yet he was crying without restraint, his voice filled with desperation.
"Esteemed Magistrate!" he cried. "Please, do not dismiss this humble servant! I have served you faithfully, working myself to exhaustion. How can you cast me aside so heartlessly? This is what they call 'when the rabbit dies, the hounds are cooked!'"
He emphasized the last phrase dramatically, his expression exaggerated to the point of absurdity.
A yamen runner standing guard nearby shook his head helplessly.
"Third Master, please stop making a scene," he said. "The Magistrate has already decided. No matter how much you cry, it won't change anything. If you anger him further, you may end up in prison. Wouldn't that be worse?"
The moment Gao Chuwu heard the words "Third Master," his eyes lit up.
"Did you hear that?" he whispered urgently. "He called him Third Master. That must be the strategist the Village Chief mentioned. San Shier!"
The others stared in astonishment.
"The strategist… is crying?"
"It sounds like the magistrate doesn't want him anymore."
Gao Chuwu's grip tightened around the wooden club slung across his back.
"That makes things easier," he said quietly. "We'll wait until he leaves the yamen and enters an alley. Then we'll bring him back."
The club in his hand was thick and sturdy, something he had picked up along the road.
San Shier continued crying for some time, but his pleas were useless.
Magistrate Zhang Yaocai had long since grown tired of him.
Eventually, two yamen runners emerged and beat him soundly, their blows merciless. By the time they were done, San Shier's face was bruised and swollen, and his body trembled with pain.
At last, he understood.
There was no hope left.
With a defeated sigh, he staggered away from the yamen and walked down the street. After some distance, he turned into a narrow alley, intending to take a shortcut home.
He had barely taken a few steps when a figure appeared in front of him.
A young man holding a wooden club.
San Shier froze.
He spun around to flee, only to find three more young men blocking the exit behind him.
His heart sank instantly.
He looked them over quickly. Their ragged clothes and sunburned skin made it obvious they were poor villagers.
He raised both hands in surrender.
"Don't hit me!" he blurted. "I'm on your side! The magistrate was the one forcing the taxes. It had nothing to do with me! I even advised him not to oppress the people. That, my friends, is what one calls 'speaking for the common folk!'"
Gao Chuwu blinked.
"Oh? Is that so?"
"Yes, yes!" San Shier said eagerly. "I was dismissed precisely because I defended people like you. That is what one calls 'exhausting oneself for righteousness!'"
Gao Chuwu scratched his head.
"I don't really understand what you're saying," he admitted honestly. "But you sound very educated."
San Shier straightened slightly, relieved.
"Exactly! I am a learned man. You must not resort to violence. Put down your weapons, and we can discuss this peacefully. That, my friends, is what one calls 'resolving conflict through harmony.'"
Gao Chuwu broke into a wide grin.
"That's perfect," he said.
"A learned man is exactly who we're looking for."
San Shier froze.
"…What?"
"Please come with us," Gao Chuwu continued cheerfully. "We'd like to invite you to Gao Family Village."
San Shier's expression changed immediately.
"Gao Family Village? I'm not going! I refuse! This is what one calls—"
Thwack!
A wooden club struck the back of his head.
He collapsed instantly, unconscious before he even hit the ground.
The young man who struck him lowered his club and frowned.
"I don't know why," he said, "but listening to him talk made me want to hit him."
He paused.
"Especially those last four words. They were incredibly annoying."
Gao Chuwu burst out laughing.
"I was thinking the same thing."
The others laughed as well.
Working together, they hoisted San Shier over their shoulders and began carrying him out of the county town as quickly as possible.
But before they could get far, trouble appeared.
A group of yamen runners approached from the opposite direction.
From a distance, the runners saw four ragged peasants carrying an unconscious man dressed in fine clothing.
The scene looked extremely suspicious.
No matter how one looked at it, it resembled kidnapping.
"You four!" one of the runners shouted. "What are you doing?"
Gao Chuwu's legs nearly gave out beneath him.
He and the others had only been pretending to act brave. Now that they faced real yamen runners, their courage evaporated instantly.
Their first instinct was to run.
But before they could move, the yamen runner suddenly narrowed his eyes.
"You…"
He leaned forward.
"You're from Gao Family Village!"
Gao Chuwu squinted back.
Recognition dawned on both sides simultaneously.
"It's you," Gao Chuwu said. "The yamen runner from yesterday."
This was the very same man who had gone to Gao Family Village to collect taxes—and had been effortlessly lifted into the air by Li Daoxuan using only two fingers.
That experience had terrified him beyond reason.
He had not slept at all the previous night, haunted by the fear of Tianzun's wrath. Even now, he refused to go anywhere alone, sticking close to his fellow runners for safety.
Behind him stood four others.
They too had been blown away by Tianzun's breath.
They too were terrified.
Now, seeing villagers from Gao Family Village standing before them…
Their faces turned pale.
Could it be…
Tianzun had sent them?
Had they come to punish them?
Both sides stood frozen.
Gao Chuwu forced himself to speak.
"Our friend…" he stammered, "he got dizzy from the heat. We're taking him to wash his face."
The yamen runner nodded rapidly.
"Yes… yes… please go ahead."
He swallowed nervously.
"And about yesterday… we didn't say anything. Not a word."
Both sides trembled as they slowly walked past each other.
The moment they were out of sight—
The yamen runners ran.
Gao Chuwu and his companions ran too.
Each group fled in opposite directions, as if escaping from monsters, kicking up clouds of dust behind them.
Neither side dared to look back.