Never underestimate how eager the people of Daqi are to enter Yingtian Prefecture.
They would stop at nothing to gain access. So, once Meng Xizhao instructed Jia Renliang, the clerk immediately went to find the Taoist who supposedly craved fame.
Within half an hour, he returned with the man. Meng Xizhao, meanwhile, was in Xie Yuan’s room, reviewing Longxing Prefecture’s personnel, farmland, and tax records.
Xie Yuan, still partially recovering from his injuries—his back struck once, legs twice, a fractured calf—was moved. He had assumed that after being hurt, Meng Xizhao would leave him out of the work, yet the governor brought official business straight to him without hesitation.
Xie Yuan felt a deep sense of gratitude, and Meng Xizhao seemed equally pleased. Fortunately, it was a leg injury, not a hand—he could still write, proving himself a valuable subordinate.
As they spoke, Yinliu entered to announce that Jia Renliang had arrived, bringing a Taoist with him. Meng Xizhao raised an eyebrow, impressed at Jia Renliang’s speed.
“Send him in.”
Xie Yuan, unaware of Meng Xizhao’s purpose in summoning Jia Renliang, propped himself up with curiosity.
Jia Renliang entered, bowing repeatedly, and gestured behind him: “Here he is.”
Following him was a man in blue-and-white Taoist robes.
Meng Xizhao appraised him.
The Taoist appeared to be in his twenties or thirties, sporting a goatee and holding a ritual whisk—its purpose unclear, but a standard Taoist accessory. His eyes were ethereal as he stepped in, offering only a brief glance at Meng Xizhao and the reclining Xie Yuan, then swept the whisk and nodded: “Boundless longevity and blessings.”
After this, he spoke a proper greeting: “I, this humble Taoist, pay respects to you, gentlemen.”
By this time, Buddhism had risen to a near-supreme status, and Taoism was only slightly below. Monastics no longer needed to show excessive respect to officials, merely enough to be proper. Jia Renliang, therefore, noticed nothing unusual and continued smiling at Meng Xizhao.
Meng Xizhao observed him silently. In terms of appearance alone, he passed muster: extremely thin—either from famine or years of Taoist fasting—his features weathered, appearing as if he had endured countless trials. Most importantly, his eyes conveyed that void, detached from worldly attachments—a look few could truly emulate.
Meng Xizhao blinked, then asked, “What do you go by, Taoist?”
“I am Taoist Cangchen.”
Meng Xizhao nodded, smiling. “Did Jia Renliang explain why I invited you here today?”
Cangchen inclined his head. “Jia Renliang said that Your Excellency wishes to bring fame to our Yuqing Temple.”
Meng Xizhao shook his head. “No, no. Yuqing Temple is just a small place. There are thousands of temples across the land; why would I seek fame for one with limited offerings? What I wish to elevate is you, Taoist Cangchen—your name.”
Xie Yuan listened, bewildered, entirely unsure what Meng Xizhao meant.
Cangchen himself was equally puzzled. He had expected to extract some donations from this new governor, but Meng Xizhao seemed intent on tricking him instead.
No wonder they were alike—both adept at persuasion. Without even needing prior knowledge, Cangchen immediately recognized that this new governor was cut from the same cloth.
Meng Xizhao had no time for idle talk. If Cangchen could cooperate, fine; if not, he wouldn’t remain in Longxing Prefecture. He could provide travel expenses to serve as a Taoist elsewhere, or, if unwilling, detain him in the office courtyard until matters were settled before sending him off. In any case, Cangchen would not return home today.
Cangchen had no idea Meng Xizhao’s mind was so sharp. As Meng Xizhao outlined his plan, Cangchen’s shock grew, but so did his excitement.
He couldn’t help asking, “Sir, how do you come up with so many strange and ingenious ideas?”
Meng Xizhao chuckled. “Back in Yingtian Prefecture, I developed a fair bit of expertise in food, drink, and entertainment.”
Xie Yuan: “…………”
The word playboy had never sounded so cultured and refined.
Regardless, Cangchen was hooked. The more he considered Meng Xizhao’s plan, the more feasible it seemed. Forgetting his own ethereal persona, he bowed deeply, thanking him for the recognition.
Meng Xizhao accepted his thanks, then told him he could leave and make preparations.
Cangchen nodded solemnly and turned to leave. Once he was gone, Jia Renliang looked back at Meng Xizhao, admiration written all over his face. “Sir, you truly are the cleverest man in the world!”
Meng Xizhao scratched his head sheepishly. “Don’t say that—I only learned to read last year.”
Jia Renliang: “…………”
He hadn’t expected Meng Xizhao to drop such a remark and was momentarily at a loss for words.
Meng Xizhao, hating to see anyone idle, clapped his hands. “Stop standing there! Go find a goldsmith—whatever I need, I want it made today.”
Jia Renliang exclaimed, “Right away!” and dashed off. Soon, the room was left with only Meng Xizhao and Xie Yuan.
Xie Yuan furrowed his brow. “Governor Meng, do you really think this will calm the anger of the people?”
Meng Xizhao: “Of course not.”
Xie Yuan: “…………”
Then why go through all this trouble?
Meng Xizhao sighed. “Regaining public trust is never easy. But, Vice Prefect Xie, at this moment, neither we nor the people are focused on reputation. What matters most is survival. The question for these next few months is how everyone is going to live. If people are busy securing their livelihoods, who has time to create trouble for the government?”
Xie Yuan paused, then lowered his head in shame. “I—this humble official neglected that.”
It was understandable. Xie Yuan, facing the citizens for the first time, was distressed to see how much they despised him. Naturally, he wanted to quickly improve their impression of him.
Now, feeling utterly humiliated, he reflected on his mistakes. He had spent years studying the classics, yet Meng Xizhao, barely literate a year ago, understood the situation far more clearly.
Xie Yuan bowed his head in introspection, determined not to repeat the error. When he finally lifted his gaze, he saw Meng Xizhao watching him thoughtfully.
Xie Yuan: “…Governor Meng?”
Meng Xizhao suddenly broke into a brilliant smile. “Vice Prefect Xie, tomorrow I’ll borrow you for a task. How does that sound?”
Xie Yuan: “…………”
Borrow… me?
Meng Xizhao had spent the entire day at Longxing Prefecture. Apart from summoning one local clerk, he had stayed with Xie Yuan, going through old records. Not a single official sent by the Ministry of Personnel had been called in.
Normally, when a governor changed, there would be friction between locals and outsiders, a struggle for position. But after the Nanzhao forces entered the city, the first thing they did was execute most of the officials in the prefecture to make an example, leaving only a few clerks who could only record documents with pens. These clerks continued working under the new governor.
Among the civil officials, only a single assistant remained. He knew survival would not earn him reward, only possible reassignment, so he dared not trouble Meng Xizhao. The military personnel were worse—none survived.
The current military posts were held by Ding Chun’s personal troops. Usually commanding a few thousand soldiers in the army, now serving as the prefecture’s local militia commander, they were far from underemployed.
As for the prefecture superintendent, the equivalent in rank to the governor and commander of all local troops, no one had been appointed. Normally, a local would fill this role, but given Longxing’s situation, it would remain vacant for the time being.
Thus, in the entire Longxing Prefecture office, aside from Meng Xizhao and Xie Yuan, only four civil officials sent by the Ministry of Personnel remained.
And even with so few people, delays and obstruction still occurred.
Zhou Sifa, Wu Qianpan, Zheng Lushi, and Wang Silie sat in the hall that normally belonged to the assistant, chattering about Meng Xizhao’s flaws.
Wang Silie: “This isn’t a governor—it’s a dilettante. Let’s see how he alone plans to handle the current situation in Longxing Prefecture.”
Zheng Lushi: “If we don’t do anything…is that wise? What if something goes wrong? How do we explain it?”
Wang Silie looked at him with frustration. “Explain to whom? What can you explain? You’ve been reassigned to this backwater—don’t dream of returning to Yingtian Prefecture! Instead of wasting time on illusions, we should unite and pressure Meng Xizhao. He just arrived, probably thinking this is an easy post. Soon enough, he’ll realize he can’t manage alone, and he’ll have to seek our cooperation.”
Wu Qianpan kept his head down, saying nothing.
Zhou Sifa, however, thought Wang Silie’s argument was slightly off. They were all subordinates of Meng Xizhao, struggling in the same difficult circumstances. To pick a fight now seemed inappropriate.
Yet, Zhou Sifa acknowledged that once Meng Xizhao realized his own power, he would no longer make things difficult for them. Standing with Wang Silie’s strategy might actually secure their positions in Longxing Prefecture.
He had never imagined returning to Yingtian Prefecture. Though his current role was judicial advisor, it carried no rank, and whether he could return depended entirely on whether his superiors chose to promote him. From what he had observed today, Meng Xizhao was merciless. He would likely never grant such a chance.
Thinking this way, Zhou Sifa agreed with Wang Silie: they must hold their ground. Only by doing so could they ensure a secure life in Longxing Prefecture later.
Zhou and Wang had formed an alliance; Zheng was opportunistic, siding with the majority; Wu, who had once been like Zheng, after meeting Meng Xizhao, considered changing sides as well.
He wasn’t like Wang Silie, rushing to assert his authority in a new place. He just wanted to quietly get by—and from the look of things, Wang Silie wasn’t the type to help him do that.
Trying to wrestle with the governor wasn’t impossible, but when you know the governor is strict, merciless, and well-backed, insisting on a showdown would likely leave you on the losing end.
So—farewell, it’s time to find a new master.
Meng Xizhao had been busy until midnight. He didn’t go to his new residence but stayed in the prefecture office, taking an empty room to sleep.
Longxing Prefecture had just been upgraded, but the office remained at the state level. The former governor’s mansion now belonged to him, though after the previous governor’s death, all the family had been taken back to Nanzhao. Nothing alive or dead remained, and the mansion had been completely ransacked, now so abandoned that grass grew through the floor.
Even a materialist like Meng Xizhao felt uneasy living there.
Oh well—he wasn’t planning to stay long in Longxing anyway. Like Xie Yuan, he would remain in the office.
Jinzhu slept next to him, while Qingfu made do with the floor outside. The office was barely suitable for sleeping, so Qingfu had to compromise.
Yinliu wasn’t there—she had accompanied Xie Yuan and went out to handle matters in Longxing Prefecture.
The technicians, Shi Dazhuang and Teng Kangning, were set up in the backyard, formerly the residence of the governor’s family, now vacated for them.
Rubbing his sore buttocks and thighs, Meng Xizhao quietly stripped off his clothes to sleep. Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door.
A voice whispered through the crack: “Sir, are you asleep? I have an urgent matter to report.”
Qingfu glanced at him, and Meng Xizhao winked, nodding: “Let him in.”
It was one of the four officials from earlier in the day. Meng Xizhao raised an eyebrow and listened carefully. Then he murmured, recalling his name: “You’re Wu…”
Wu Qianpan bowed. “Your humble official is Wu Shiji. I beg pardon for any offense earlier today, and hope you will forgive me.”
Meng Xizhao smiled. “No need, really. I understand you weren’t aware of Wang Silie’s behavior beforehand. Your silence at the time—must have been the shock of his audacity.”
Wu Qianpan’s eyes lit up. “Sir, you are wise beyond measure!”
Meng Xizhao’s faint smile: “Wu Qianpan, rest assured. I won’t wrong a good man, nor spare a bad one. Today’s matters need not be mentioned again.”
Wu Qianpan’s heart swelled with relief, though he worried: “And what of Wang Silie’s schemes…”
Meng Xizhao waved a hand. “Ignore him. I’m busy now, no time to deal with him. Later, we’ll see.”
Wu Qianpan repeated, “Sir, you are truly wise,” while inwardly wondering—is he genuinely busy, or does he not know what to do, so he postpones it?
This governor hadn’t even reached twenty yet, likely the youngest in Daqi’s history. Young men were hard to challenge in the bureaucracy.
Wu Qianpan held these thoughts, buried them deep, said, “I won’t disturb you further,” and left.
Qingfu followed to close the door and assured Meng Xizhao: “My lord, this man is not as he seemed.”
Meng Xizhao glanced at him, amused. “Good—so even you have learned to read people.”
Qingfu smiled sheepishly. “Spending time by your side has its benefits.”
He paused, then asked, “My lord, how do you plan to deal with him?”
Meng Xizhao: “Why deal with him? Didn’t he just say all the right things?”
Qingfu panicked. “But he’s not loyal to you!”
Meng Xizhao: “…………”
Even though Qingfu had learned to read people, he still had much to learn about handling them.
After a moment, Meng Xizhao explained: “Life isn’t always about what seems proper. I’ve given him no favors, yet must he be loyal? Being an official isn’t marriage; loyalty isn’t required. As long as he obeys orders and completes tasks, that’s enough—I’m willing to keep using him.”
Qingfu absorbed this slowly, then nodded. “I understand.”
He couldn’t help but admire Meng Xizhao: “My lord, you truly carry the bearing of a high official.”
Meng Xizhao waved modestly. “Oh no, it’s just that some are born to shine.”
Qingfu: “…………”
Everything about my lord is admirable—except that he refuses to be praised.
The next day, Wang Silie and the others all requested leave. Wu Qianpan, having coordinated with Meng Xizhao, attended as usual without submitting a leave request.
Wang Silie and his allies called him a traitor, busy flattering the governor instead.
Meng Xizhao, seeing most officials present, donned his official robes and waited.
Waited for what?
Of course—he was waiting for the citizens to stir.
The bravest among the people had already been taken away for looting government grain. The rest, still fearful, dared not act. Those who wanted to incite trouble knew this, so they held back, waiting for another chance.
Little did they expect that in their pause, citizens would spontaneously march to the office to demand justice.
The instigators’ leader, upon hearing this, leapt up in shock: “Was this your doing?”
The people below all shook their heads. “No, it wasn’t us.”
The leader thought for a moment, then realized: “It must be that all our previous urging has reached its peak. Now the people are roused, acting on their own. Well, that saves us some trouble. Let’s go see the fun!”
With that, they ran out of the residence and quickly merged into the crowd of other curious townsfolk. Being all Daqi people, once they blended in, it was nearly impossible to tell anyone apart.
By now, the most agitated farmers had arrived outside the prefecture office. Soldiers with long spears stood guard, glaring at the restless crowd.
Farmer One shouted, “Why aren’t you giving us grain? The Nanzhao took from us, and the officials claimed to have rescued us. But now there’s not a single grain in my home, and my child has nearly fainted from hunger. Are you trying to starve us to death?”
Farmer Two: “No grain, no seeds—how are we supposed to survive? My mother tried to hang herself at home, and I stopped her. It’s all your damned officials, eating royal grain while we suffer!”
Farmer Three: “Stop wasting words—just break in and take the grain!”
The soldiers roared in response: “Who dares! Stealing grain is a capital offense. Any of you who charge forward will have your heads chopped off!”
The farmer who had spoken impulsively immediately regretted it. His companions felt the same—hesitant, unwilling to die, yet unwilling to back down entirely.
At that moment, a beggar’s voice rose from the crowd: “Everyone, don’t act rashly! We’re here to petition the new governor to open the granary, not to stir trouble. Give us the grain, and we leave. Refuse, and we’ll stay right here.”
The people quickly echoed his sentiment:
“Yes, yes!”
“We want grain! You won’t give it, we won’t leave!”
“Open the granary! Quickly, give it to us!”
Yinliu, standing at the edge of the crowd, finally breathed a sigh of relief. The situation had been pulled back under control by the old beggar’s words.
Her lord’s task for her was truly a difficult one: stir the people to ensure they came to the office today, while controlling the crowd and their thoughts, so that a peaceful sit-in wouldn’t turn into a riot.
Initially, Yinliu thought it would be simple. The longer it went on, the more she realized she might lose control. Even with the old beggar guiding the crowd, someone might get impulsive and try to take the lead.
Fortunately, Meng Xizhao had Qingfu watching outside. Hearing that the people had arrived, he quickly donned his official robes and stepped out.
He overheard one soldier shouting: “You rabble, get back at once!”
Meng Xizhao chuckled, grateful for nature’s gift.
Taking a few steps forward, he waved aside the soldiers obstructing him, then pointed at the yelling soldier with righteous indignation: “What did you say? Who taught you this? I, your governor, love the people as my own children—how dare you speak nonsense here! You call the people of Longxing Prefecture ‘rabble’? I think you are the true rabble! Guards! Drag him away, lock him up, and beat him soundly!”
The soldier was stunned. He’d only called them “rabble”—he wasn’t alone in saying it—why was he being punished?
But the regiment commander behind Meng Xizhao gave a subtle signal. Two men seized the soldier and dragged him off.
The soldier, believing he was about to be beaten to death, screamed in genuine terror. The sound echoed far louder than the people’s shouts and was utterly convincing.
The crowd, including other soldiers and townsfolk, went completely silent.
Meng Xizhao calmed his expression, looking at the gaunt, skeletal farmers before him. He felt a pang.
The earlier intensity of the crowd’s anger had diminished, but now their emotions, tinged with genuine desperation, seemed even more real.
He furrowed his brows: “Friends, why have you gathered here?”
The leading farmers exchanged glances. Finally, the one who had shouted the loudest asked cautiously, “Who… are you?”
Meng Xizhao froze for a moment.
Not only did they not recognize him, they didn’t even recognize official attire! But it wasn’t their fault—they had just been upgraded to a prefecture this year. Previously, the office was headed by a governor, who wore different robes.
Jia Renliang, accompanying him, went pale. “This… this is our Governor Meng! What is it you wish to request?”
The farmers froze. This governor looked barely old enough to wean!
But they had no choice. They blurted out their grievances: in short, “Governor, we have nothing to eat at home. Please open the granary!”
Meng Xizhao listened, wordless, feeling a lump in his throat. His expression revealed a deep sorrow: “Friends… it’s not that I don’t want to give you grain.”
“But, but…”
He let out a heavy sigh: “Our granary… has very little left.”
The farmers, hearing this, were stunned. Suddenly, a clanging sound came from the back.
Someone had brought a hoe and accidentally dropped it.
Meng Xizhao: “……”
He had underestimated this group.
They brought a hoe—were they planning to beat the governor after already harming the deputy?
Even with the hoe dropped, it drew no attention. All eyes remained on Meng Xizhao. The air was deathly still.
And yet, one couldn’t help but admire: despite their hatred of the officials, the moment they realized this was their governor, they instinctively believed his words.
In fact, they had never seen the granary themselves, nor had they glimpsed the records in the ledgers. Just a single statement from Meng Xizhao was enough for them to believe it completely.
Having no grain at home already left them feeling desperate; hearing that even the granary was empty made it seem as if death were the only option.
Would they have to return to the old stories of past generations, resorting to “exchanging children to eat”?
Meng Xizhao looked at the vacant, numb faces and felt a pang of shame in his heart. Yet he followed the plan, giving a subtle hand signal to Yinliu in the distance.
Yinliu, craning her neck to watch him, immediately covered her face and let out an exaggerated, loud wail.
The sound of her crying caused those nearby to be swept up in sorrow as well, and soon many in the crowd were sobbing uncontrollably. Amidst the crying came a few bursts of rage:
“Damn Nanzhao!”
“There’s no way to survive… really no way to survive…”
“When I become a ghost, I’ll bite those Nanzhao to death!”
Qingfu, standing behind, felt his own eyes well up as he listened to the crowd’s grief.
At that moment, a deep, resonant voice echoed down the street: “Boundless blessings of longevity—”
The sound carried far and wide. The crying gradually subsided, and the crowd turned to see that the speaker was a Taoist priest, now walking toward them.
He looked at the people and first sighed: “Heaven and earth are indifferent, treating all living things as straw dogs.”
Then he lifted his gaze toward Meng Xizhao, standing by the gate: “Yet heaven and earth will always leave a thread of life for all things.”
Meng Xizhao stared at Cang Chen in surprise, as if seeing him for the first time. “Who… are you?”
Cang Chen smiled faintly. “I am but a humble hermit. Today I enter the world to serve the people, and to serve a good governor as well.”
He paused, then raised his head and asked Meng Xizhao, “Governor Meng, are you a good governor?”
Meng Xizhao hesitated, “I… I’ve only just taken office…”
Cang Chen rephrased, “Are you willing to devote yourself fully, to exhaust your efforts for the people of Longxing Prefecture?”
Meng Xizhao paused, then replied firmly, “Of course I am! I have traveled a thousand miles to arrive at Longxing Prefecture for no other reason!”
Cang Chen smiled. “Very well. My magic is not profound, yet it can resolve the immediate crisis of Longxing Prefecture. I have a bowl here, filled with grain—limitless and inexhaustible. It is perfectly suited to be offered to Governor Meng as an act of merit.”
Qingfu rubbed his already-red eyes, now even redder, and pointed at Cang Chen’s nose. “You charlatan! If such a miraculous treasure truly existed, why only bring it out now?”
The crowd nodded in agreement, casting skeptical glances at the boastful Taoist. Even in their superstition, they found it hard to believe. Besides, there was something vaguely familiar about the priest’s face.
As the crowd pondered where they might have seen him before, Cang Chen sighed to himself: “Well, until one sees it with their own eyes, even I would not believe. Very well, let me demonstrate the ritual so that Governor Meng may witness it firsthand.”
Meng Xizhao frowned and instinctively glanced at the assembled people. After a moment, he said, “If such a magical object exists, I will be eternally grateful. But if it does not…”
Cang Chen, floating in an ethereal calm, replied, “Governor Meng may handle it as he sees fit.”
Meng Xizhao nodded. “Very well, let the Taoist perform the ritual here at the prefecture gates. I wish not only to see it myself but also to allow the people of Longxing Prefecture to witness it. Taoist, may we proceed?”
Even Meng Xizhao’s prior display of shared tears had not moved the crowd as much as this. Seeing him willing to share the moment, letting everyone witness it, made the people think: perhaps this governor truly is a good man.
Meanwhile, the ringleader hiding within the crowd was stunned.
What was happening?
Having spent days fanning the flames of discontent, he knew how easily the people could be influenced. His first thought was that the Taoist had been sent by the governor to stage a performance.
But such a tale—wasn’t it too grandiose? Could it end without backfiring?
He froze in place, observing silently, ready to see how the Taoist would spin his story.
The ritual platform was soon prepared. The Taoist calmly ascended it, bowed thrice to the Three Pure Ones, and held the incense with solemn words, chanting quietly.
After placing the incense, he suddenly waved his whisk, moving about on the platform as though performing in an opera.
The crowd was startled by his dramatic gestures, but it worked well. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the whisk, and even the skeptical among them were now highly attentive.
When this display concluded, the Taoist stood at the center of the platform and shouted: “Mortal bodies, step back immediately! Should you draw too near and interfere with the divine, this grain shall not appear!”
At once, the crowd nearby retreated. Though proximity was not a real issue, it prevented too many people from seeing exactly what Cang Chen was doing.
With space cleared on both sides, Cang Chen produced a golden bowl from his sleeve.
The bowl was made of pure gold, heavy and gleaming, inside and out. To make sure the crowd could see clearly, it was completely empty. He even held it upright so everyone could witness that not a single grain remained.
Only after the majority had seen the empty bowl did he raise it and chant: “Gold turns to jade, grains arise of their own accord, as decreed, swift and true!”
With that, he let out a loud shout. Taking advantage of everyone’s inattention, Zang Chen pressed the bottom of the golden bowl toward himself, forcing the cleverly designed movable base to flip, revealing a bowlful of pre-stuck grain. Then, he flipped the bowl back and set it upright.
Just like that, a full bowl of grain appeared.
The citizens of Longxing Prefecture: “!!!”
Could it really be true?!
Heavens, Longxing Prefecture is saved!
Before Zang Chen or Meng Xizhao could say anything, the people all knelt at once, kowtowing to Zang Chen.
Zang Chen’s vanity swelled with satisfaction, while Meng Xizhao, equally excited, hurried over and looked as if he were about to kneel too. “Daoist, please lend this to Longxing Prefecture!”
Zang Chen didn’t dare let him kneel for real and quickly flicked him away with his whisk.
Meng Xizhao then straightened up abruptly, clearly shocked, lowering his head as he glanced left and right, muttering, “Strange… why can’t I bend my legs?”
Qingfu: “…………”
Indeed, his lord was right—there was still much to learn.