The shop assistant maintained a well-practiced, professional smile.
"Being able to read isn't anything special here," he said casually. "Young people around my age—almost everyone can read. We want to earn a bit of extra money, but we still have classes during the day, so we don't have time for proper full-time work. We just do odd jobs after school."
He paused, then added proudly, "It's called work-study. Dao Xuan Tianzun strongly supports it."
Gu Yanwu was completely stunned.
"Young people your age… everyone is literate?"
The shop assistant laughed.
"Well, that might be overstating it a little. To be precise, most of the newcomers are still illiterate. It's the kids who've lived here for a few years who can all read."
Then he grinned.
"That's why newcomers have a harder time finding work in the village. They can only do pure manual labor at first. After that, they send their children to school, hoping that once the kids are educated, the whole family's fate will change."
Gu Yanwu: "..."
The shop assistant cheerfully turned around and went off to prepare his order.
Gu Yanwu sat there, utterly dazed.
Before long, two slightly older children entered the restaurant.
The shop assistant immediately greeted one of them warmly.
"Young Master, you're back!"
The older child burst out laughing.
"I told you not to call me Young Master! At school, you're my senior. Calling me that here—are you trying to embarrass me? Just call me Little Bubble!"
The shop assistant laughed. "Little Bubble sounds boring. Handsome Enough to Bubble is much better."
"Hahaha! That's right!" the boy said shamelessly. "I am incredibly handsome!"
Gu Yanwu noticed something strange.
Although the shop assistant addressed the boy as "Young Master," there was no sense of hierarchy between them at all. Their tone was relaxed, their exchanges playful—like two long-time friends joking without restraint.
The boy—Handsome Enough to Bubble—pulled the other child along, sat down heavily, and slapped the table.
"Dad! Mom! I'm starving! Get me something to eat. Oh—and Zhebu's here too. Make him a portion as well."
From behind the counter came the owner's voice.
"Zhebu's here too? Alright. Today I'll make you some Mongolian food. How about roast lamb leg?"
Zhebu's eyes lit up.
"Thank you, Uncle Liu!"
Gu Yanwu's heart jumped.
A Mongolian child?
His body stiffened instantly. He sharpened his hearing, every nerve going taut, and listened carefully.
Zhebu said quietly, "Brother Bubble, the lessons these past few days have been so hard. I really don't understand them."
Liu Maopao laughed.
"Well… you Mongolians grew up in harsh, cold lands. You haven't seen much of the world, so it's normal you don't understand these lessons yet. Don't worry—I'll tutor you."
Zhebu was touched.
"Thank you so much! If Brother Bubble didn't help me, I don't know how many beatings I'd have gotten from the teacher."
Liu Maopao waved his hand casually.
"No problem, no problem. Don't be afraid. Even if you're slow, I've got your back. Stick with your big brother—nothing will be too hard for you."
Gu Yanwu listened—and his brows slowly knit together.
Something was very wrong.
This Han child was "helping" the Mongolian child, yet his very first words subtly emphasized the other's ignorance and backwardness.
First, he belittled him.
Then, he positioned himself as the savior.
Classic manipulation.
It was a calculated rhetorical technique—undermine the other's confidence, then offer protection. Over time, the victim would become completely dependent.
If the term PUA existed in this era, Gu Yanwu would have already leapt up and shouted it aloud.
PUA was a sinister art. Used long enough, it could turn a person into a loyal hound—one who would help count the money even after being sold.
Such tactics between adults were already disturbing enough.
But to see one child using them on another?
A chill crept up Gu Yanwu's spine.
He nearly slammed his palm on the table, ready to leap up and scold that boy.
Just then, Zhebu spoke again.
"Brother Bubble, you're so amazing—and you're so good to me. I'm really grateful. When I grow up and return to the Wushen Tribe to become its leader, I'll give you a hundred cattle and sheep—no, two hundred! And I'll send you the most beautiful girl too!"
Gu Yanwu's heart skipped violently.
His raised impulse froze midair.
A tribal heir?
He slowly sat back down.
In an instant, everything became clear.
This wasn't just manipulation.
This was long-term strategic conditioning.
If successful, this Han boy would effectively gain influence over an entire Mongolian tribe.
In that case, Gu Yanwu naturally couldn't interfere.
Liu Maopao laughed loudly.
"Nonsense. Does your Brother Bubble care about your cattle or sheep? Look at our restaurant—doesn't it outweigh a few hundred animals? And look at my face. With looks like these, what kind of beauty can I not marry?"
Zhebu hesitated.
"Well… when you put it that way…"
Liu Maopao clapped him on the shoulder.
"I just want to be your brother. I don't covet your things. In the future, when you become a tribal leader and I join the Gao Family Village committee, we brothers will form an alliance."
His eyes gleamed.
"We'll march out together. Anyone who messes with us, we'll strike them down. The Manchu dogs—of course. But not just them. Whoever dares provoke us, we'll crush them together."
Zhebu was ecstatic.
"Good! Good! Following Brother Bubble into battle, I won't fear anyone! Brother Bubble is the most amazing person I've ever met!"
Gu Yanwu inhaled sharply, like choking on a mouthful of icy noodles.
Only now did he fully understand the depth of this "PUA."
The Mongolians were currently subservient to the Manchus, frequently assisting them in attacks on the Great Ming.
But if this plan truly succeeded…
One day, the Mongolians might instead become followers of the Great Ming—charging into battle alongside them.
The thought alone made Gu Yanwu's hands tremble.
This child… at such a young age… is already working for the Great Ming?
Gu Yanwu let out a long sigh.
"When I was his age," he muttered, "I was still playing in the mud."
Just then, the shop assistant returned.
"Honored guest, your Jinling Roast Duck and Pengcheng Fish Balls are ready."
He placed the dishes down neatly.
"That will be three taels of silver."
"What?!" Gu Yanwu shot to his feet. "That expensive? Is this some kind of crooked shop?"
The shop assistant replied calmly.
"Honored guest, you're eating Jiangsu cuisine in Shaanxi. Shouldn't that be expensive? Look at our decor. Look at the atmosphere. And look—every shop assistant here can read. Can the shabby taverns you usually visit boast such standards?"
He smiled.
"Honestly, three taels is quite cheap."
Gu Yanwu: "..."
"I don't quite understand," he admitted weakly, "but somehow… it sounds very reasonable."
And just like that, three taels of silver vanished from his purse.
It wasn't until the next day that Gu Yanwu fully realized the truth.
This place was deliberately designed to harvest the wealthy, extracting money from the rich and distributing it among the common people.
Ugh.
He had even written a short essay back in Sanyuan County, arguing that such practices benefited the nation and enriched the people.
Fine.
Fine.
He would accept it.
Free reading, at least.