Li Dao Xuan stood in the vast, modern expanse of his room, holding a cup of jasmine-scented latte as he peered down at the miniature world below.
He felt a twinge of anxiety, the kind a parent feels when their kids go on their first unsupervised field trip.
He was genuinely worried that his militia "little people" might start throwing their weight around and bullying the residents of Heyang County.
This was the first time the Gao Village Family militia had entered a "wild little person settlement" in force.
In a place like this, it would be all too easy for a soldier to get a big head and start lording it over the civilians.
This was the first major test of the militia's spiritual discipline and overall character.
Li Dao Xuan knew he was biased.
He was fiercely protective of his own.
If one of his villagers bullied a stranger, what would he do?
He certainly couldn't condone it, but the thought of handing out severe punishments to the people he had raised and fed made him hesitate.
Man, being a leader is complicated, he thought, taking a sip of his coffee.
At this moment, he felt a sudden, profound understanding of why corruption festers in the world, why eunuchs seize power, and why treacherous ministers thrive.
It all stems from the "Supreme Leader's" favoritism toward his own inner circle.
When there is favoritism, there are exceptions.
When there are exceptions, the rule of law begins to crumble like a stale cookie.
You know it's wrong, but when your own family is standing in front of you, crying and making a scene, how many people actually have the iron will to stay objective?
If your relative stole a thousand dollars from the neighbor, would you really have the heart to call the police yourself?
If your best friend picked up a kitchen knife and did something stupid, would you hand him over to the station, or would you give him some "running away money" and buy him a boat ticket?
It's easy to type out "I stand with justice" on the internet to show everyone what a moral paragon you are.
But when the choice is actually staring you in the face, it's a hell of a lot harder than hitting keys on a keyboard.
Li Dao Xuan contemplated this deeply.
It seemed that establishing a proper law enforcement agency was becoming a mechanical necessity.
I can't manage things with an iron fist because I'm too soft-hearted, so I need to find someone who can do it for me.
Luckily, his influence hadn't grown too massive yet.
There was still time to set up a system.
But who could take on such a role?
I need someone stubborn, he realized.
A real "axis" person.
He needed someone who put the law before personal relationships and valued justice above all else.
Someone who, in order to maintain that justice, wouldn't be afraid to push back against even him, the Great Dao Xuan Tianzun, and correct his "favoritism and exceptions."
He needed a Wei Zheng, the famous Tang Dynasty advisor who dared to point out the Emperor's mistakes to his face.
Do I even have someone like that among my little people?
While his mind wandered through these philosophical weeds, he kept a nervous eye on the activities below.
To his immense relief, the long hours of "ideological and political education" seemed to have paid off.
The soldiers of the Gao Village Family militia were behaving themselves with remarkable decorum.
A squad of soldiers walked up to a small street stall, greeting the owner with a friendly wave.
"Shopkeeper, how much for a bowl of Sanchi Sliced Noodles?"
The owner, seeing their polished armor and weapons, looked a bit intimidated.
"Ten wen."
The soldiers' eyes widened.
"Wow, that's expensive!"
"A bowl of hand-pulled noodles back in our Gao Village Family only costs three wen."
"Well, I suppose grain prices are higher here," another soldier chimed in.
"The grace of Dao Xuan Tianzun has only just reached this county; the grain reserves here aren't as deep as they are back home."
"True. When you put it that way, it's reasonable. Alright, one bowl for me!"
"Make it two!"
The shopkeeper was internally panicking.
This group had ordered five bowls, which meant fifty wen.
If they decided to walk away without paying, he would suffer a massive loss.
But as he glanced at their sharp blades and sturdy armor, he didn't dare say "I don't serve your kind."
He just lowered his head and started slicing the noodles with a shaky hand.
As it turned out, he was worrying for nothing.
Before the noodles were even in the pot, one of the soldiers produced a piece of broken silver.
He weighed it briefly, it looked to be worth about fifty wen, and placed it firmly on the counter.
"Work fast, uncle! We're starving."
The shopkeeper's face lit up with joy.
He swept the silver into his drawer with practiced speed, and his noodle-slicing movements suddenly became much more fluid and energetic.
Similar scenes were playing out all over Heyang County.
The thousand-plus militia members and the three hundred riders from the cavalry unit quickly filled the main streets with life.
The people of the Gao Village Family were already prosperous, but the militia and cavalry were even wealthier.
Theirs was a high-risk job, and Dao Xuan Tianzun paid them wages that were significantly higher than those of the average factory worker.
Their purchasing power was, quite frankly, insane for this era.
The sliced noodle shops were soon packed to the rafters.
The Heyang Xuemian stalls were overflowing.
The "Freshwater Hele" shop was a literal sea of heads.
The merchants of Heyang County were practically weeping with joy; this sudden surge of business was the best thing that had happened to them in years.
The only thing that slightly annoyed them was the dialogue they kept overhearing from their customers.
For example, a soldier slurping down Hele noodles turned to his buddy and said,
"Man, this Heyang County is a real poverty-stricken dump, isn't it?"
His companion nodded as he chewed.
"Incredibly poor. Compared to our Gao Village Family, this place is barely on the map."
The shopkeeper, overhearing this, nearly blew his beard off in a fit of pique.
You dare call us Heyang folk poor?
Do you believe I'll hit you over the head with this ladle?
Oh... wait, you're carrying a bow and a saber.
Never mind.
But then he remembered the three girls who had visited earlier.
They had also told him to open a shop in the Gao Village Family, claiming the people there were wealthy and that he could make a fortune.
He looked around his packed shop, seeing the well-fed, well-clothed soldiers paying in silver without a second thought.
Maybe those girls weren't joking, he thought.
Maybe the Gao Village Family really is worth a visit.
Meanwhile, at a Mutton Hubo shop in the eastern part of the city, things were equally lively.
Mutton Hubo was a delicacy left behind by the Mongols when they invaded Heyang during the Yuan Dynasty.
It was rich, oily, and delicious, the only drawback was that it required mutton, which was expensive.
In this era of great drought, who could afford to raise sheep?
Between the weather and the years of Fan Shanyue's bandit raids, finding a live sheep in Heyang was like finding a needle in a haystack.
The secret owner behind this specific shop was a wealthy landlord named Squire Zhang, which was the only reason they had enough mutton to stay open.
Usually, the customers here were the "who's who" of Heyang society.
But today, a table in the center of the shop was occupied by a group of Gao Village Family militia soldiers.
Leading them was Zheng Daniu himself.
He had marched into the shop with five soldiers from the armored grenadier battalion, looking as bold as could be.
The shopkeeper, seeing a bunch of common soldiers, assumed they couldn't possibly afford the menu.
But the moment he quoted the price, expecting them to gasp at the "astronomical" cost, Zheng Daniu just let out a boisterous laugh.
"This shop actually has mutton? Wow, that's rare. Sit down, brothers! Today, it's my treat. Shopkeeper! Give us six bowls of Mutton Hubo, and go heavy on the mutton. Don't worry about the dough strips."
The shopkeeper froze.
As the six soldiers crowded around the table, one of them looked up at Zheng Daniu.
"Brother Daniu, I think you might be missing the point. The dough strips are the Hubo. The mutton is just a garnish."
Zheng Daniu blinked.
"Wait, is that how it works?"
The shopkeeper didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"Indeed, sir. A bowl of Mutton Hubo only has a few thin slices of sheep. It's mostly dough."