Cheng Xu had become an unexpected sensation.
This outcome was, in truth, unavoidable.
In Gao Family Village, only the oldest handful of villagers still remembered when Cheng Xu had first arrived. Even among them, only a very small circle—Gao Yiye, San Shier, and Gao Chuwu—knew his true identity.
As for everyone who had come to Gao Family Village later?
They knew only of Instructor He—the masked drillmaster of the Gao Family Village Militia. His past, his origins, his experiences before arriving here… all of it was a blank.
Now, with the release of the movie, the audience instinctively grafted Cheng Xu onto the heroic protagonist.
After all, ordinary people never cared too much about cold, hard facts. What they cared about was whether a story was good.
And clearly, the legend of the "Minor Border Soldier of the Daling River" was an irresistibly compelling one.
That alone was enough.
In no time at all, rumors about Instructor He swept through Gao Family Village and Puzhou City alike.
And rumors—once they start—never stop at the original version.
At first, the gossip more or less followed the movie's plot.
But after just three days, things began to… mutate.
"Have you heard? Instructor He has mastered the Yang Family spear techniques and Li Guang's divine archery. And recently, he even created his own flintlock technique—called Shadow Gale. They say within three hundred meters, every shot kills."
"But isn't Bai Yuan from Bai Family Fortress the best flintlock marksman in Gao Family Village?"
"That's only because Instructor He rarely takes action! If he actually showed his skills, Bai Yuan wouldn't even get a chance!"
"I heard Old Zhang San say that more than six years ago, on a snowy night, he was sleeping at home when someone knocked on his door. When he opened it, Instructor He was standing there. He spoke in a northeastern accent and asked, 'Do you take in outsiders here?' Old Zhang San nodded—and the very next day, the Gao Family Village Militia was founded."
"I heard that before Instructor He arrived, the militia already had a drillmaster—Chen Qianhu!"
"What? The same Chen Qianhu who played Xiao Tianzuo and Zu Dashou?"
"Exactly! He tried to edge Instructor He out, but lost completely. In the end, Instructor He defeated him and took over."
"That doesn't sound right. Didn't Instructor He build the militia from nothing?"
"Uh… well… I'm not entirely sure anymore."
As Cheng Xu's reputation skyrocketed, another sentiment quietly began to ferment throughout Gao Family Village and Puzhou.
"Those Manchus are truly despicable."
"Zu Dashou's surrender was hateful, but the real culprits are the Manchus, aren't they? If they hadn't invaded, Zu Dashou wouldn't have surrendered, and the people of Daling River City wouldn't have been eaten like grain."
"Exactly. The Manchus are utterly vile."
For the common people of the Central Plains and Shaanxi, the Manchus of the northeast had always been distant and vague—little more than a name.
The imperial court's propaganda was weak, and most people had no real understanding of them at all.
But this movie dragged the scars and suffering caused by the Manchus directly before their eyes.
The "Northern Barbarians" in Mu Guiying belonged to ancient history.
But the Manchus in Minor Border Soldier of the Daling River were real, immediate, and terrifyingly present.
"I want to enlist," someone said passionately. "So I can fight the Manchus in the future."
"Me too!"
"Let's go together! How amazing would it be to fight the Northern Barbarians alongside Instructor He?"
With repeated screenings and emotions continuously stirred, enlistment numbers in both Gao Family Village and Puzhou surged sharply.
At the same time, Instructor He's image in the film—a man willing to risk his life for righteousness—fundamentally changed how people viewed soldiers.
The old saying, 'Good men don't become soldiers, good iron isn't used for nails,' was quietly pushed aside.
Mass-Produced Unit No. 3 entered the Flower World Star Agency and sat down across from Lao Nanfeng.
At that very moment, Lao Nanfeng was busy counting money.
The movie's explosive success had filled his coffers to the brim. With such wealth in hand, his first instinct was simple: good food, fine wine, luxury, pleasure.
Lao Nanfeng had never been a man of lofty ambitions. He loved the joys of the material world—something he had very much in common with Zhu Cunji.
When he saw Li Daoxuan arrive, Lao Nanfeng immediately bowed deeply.
"Thank you, Dao Xuan Tianzun," he said earnestly.
"The film you instructed the Saintess to assist with has been an unprecedented success. These past few days, this subordinate has counted money until my hands cramped."
Li Daoxuan smiled faintly. "Now that you've earned your fortune, do not forget your task."
Lao Nanfeng straightened at once, his expression turning solemn.
"Your subordinate understands. Dao Xuan Tianzun did not produce this film merely to help me make money—its true purpose is recruitment."
"Correct," Li Daoxuan said. "How are the constructions of the sub-theaters progressing?"
Lao Nanfeng chuckled.
"The sub-theater in Gao Family Village is already in operation. The ones in Hedong Circuit, Han City, Chengcheng County, and Heyang County are nearing completion."
He coughed lightly.
"Only… Xi'an City has encountered a bit of trouble."
Li Daoxuan raised an eyebrow. "What problem?"
"The city is too mature," Lao Nanfeng explained helplessly.
"There's practically no vacant land left. I simply couldn't find a suitable location to build a grand theater."
Li Daoxuan immediately understood.
Xi'an—capital of countless dynasties—had been bustling since the Tang, a city where "carriages rolled out at dawn."
In modern terms: the more developed a place was, the harder it became to redevelop.
Just thinking about those tightly packed old residences was enough to make one's head ache.
Li Daoxuan spoke calmly. "If it can't be built inside the city, then revive the Guanxiang districts."
During the mid-Ming period, Xi'an's prosperity had overflowed beyond its walls. Outside each of the four city gates—east, south, west, and north—bustling districts had formed, collectively known as the Four Great Guanxiang.
But by the Tianqi and Chongzhen eras, famine and economic collapse had reduced them to ruins.
The railway station built by Gao Family Village—Xi'an East Station—now stood beside the remains of the East Guanxiang, just outside the eastern gate.
Lao Nanfeng hesitated.
"There's severe drought everywhere, and bandits roam freely. Even though Shaanxi's situation has improved greatly compared to past years, the people are still afraid."
"It's hard to lure them out of the main city in the evenings. Once dusk falls, hardly anyone dares venture into the Guanxiang districts."
"I understand," Li Daoxuan replied calmly.
"Then the Guanxiang districts must offer attractions strong enough to draw them out."
"Movies are one."
"We will also establish night markets."
"I'll notify the Gao Family Village Village Committee and have San Shier move all of Gao Family Village's wondrous and unusual goods to Xi'an's East Guanxiang."
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
"It's time for the people of Xi'an to experience the kind of life enjoyed in Gao Family Village."