For the first time in his life, Shi Kefa skipped class.
He skipped class specifically to see Wu Shen off at the train station.
When they arrived, they immediately spotted San Shier.
The supreme administrative official of the Gao Family Village Committee.
He had already packed his luggage and was ready to depart. Around him clustered a group of spirited young scholars, each one radiating sharp eyes, straight backs, and that unmistakable aura of "we read too many books and are proud of it."
Beyond the scholars stood a contingent of armed soldiers—clearly a special security unit assigned to escort them.
Wu Shen stepped forward and cupped his fists respectfully.
"Steward San," he said earnestly, "I've truly troubled you by dragging you into this."
San Shier waved it off with a smile.
"You flatter me. On the contrary, I'm delighted. After being cooped up in Gao Family Village for so many years, I've nearly forgotten what the outside world looks like. Being able to go out and see it again—this is what one might call refreshing the spirit and broadening the horizons!"
Wu Shen froze.
He stared at San Shier in silence.
…Why did this man talk like that?
Assuming it was just a one-off eccentricity, Wu Shen forced himself to ignore the unease and continued,
"Steward San, why are you only bringing these young people with you? Aren't you taking your family along?"
San Shier laughed heartily and shook his head.
"My wife embraced Daoist cultivation years ago, and my daughter is currently busy managing the fertilizer factory over in Shanxi. There are no dependents left at home now—ha! This is what one calls utterly unencumbered, free of worldly attachments!"
Wu Shen sucked in a sharp breath.
Something was definitely wrong.
Why does every sentence sound like an idiom summary?
An oppressive pressure began to settle over Wu Shen's heart.
San Shier clapped his hands.
"The train is about to depart. Let's not linger here chatting at the station. We'll board first—conversation can wait until we're underway. This is called laying the groundwork and carrying it through to completion!"
Wu Shen blinked.
"Isn't that idiom… a bit off here?"
San Shier tilted his head thoughtfully.
"Oh? Was it inappropriate? Then perhaps this is what they call empty words and flawed logic!"
Wu Shen grabbed his head.
"Ahhh! Please! No more strange idioms!"
San Shier looked genuinely puzzled.
"But don't they make one sound exceptionally scholarly?"
Wu Shen clenched his fist—about the size of an alms bowl.
"I know scholars as numerous as stars in the sky, and not one of them puts on airs like you!"
San Shier burst out laughing, completely shameless.
"Ah! That, my friend, is what they call deliberately mystifying others!"
Wu Shen spat out an angry, exhausted,
"Pfft!"
Shi Kefa panicked.
"Brother Wu? Brother Wu! What's wrong? Quick—someone fetch a doctor! Brother Wu has fainted!"
Wu Shen remained in a daze all the way to Hejin County.
Only when the train could go no farther and they were told to transfer to a boat did he finally recover a bit of clarity.
Looking back, he realized Shi Kefa hadn't followed them.
At the Gao Family Village station, when Shi Kefa waved farewell, Wu Shen had still been reeling, completely unable to savor the emotion behind the verse:
"Though Peach Blossom Pool runs a thousand feet deep,"Though Peach Blossom Pool runs a thousand feet deep,
It cannot compare to Wang Lun's feelings when seeing me off."
A truly regrettable missed moment.
Stepping off the train, Wu Shen watched as the Gao Family Village Militia's special escort unit busily transferred cargo from the freight cars onto the waiting boat.
The goods were packed into massive baskets, tightly covered with tarps, making it impossible to see what lay inside.
But the way the soldiers strained as they lifted them made one thing obvious—
They were incredibly heavy.
Curiosity gnawed at Wu Shen. He sidled up to San Shier.
"Steward San… are these the supplies you're bringing to Taiyuan?"
San Shier nodded—then shook his head.
"No. Not mine. These are for you."
"For me?" Wu Shen was stunned.
San Shier smiled.
"They are personally bestowed by Dao Xuan Tianzun, placed in your hands to lay the foundation for Shanxi's reconstruction. This is called—"
He abruptly stopped himself.
The memory of Wu Shen fainting flashed through his mind.
Never mind. I'll restrain myself.
Wu Shen was utterly baffled.
"Bestowed by Dao Xuan Tianzun? What… exactly is it?"
San Shier's smile widened.
"One million taels of silver."
Wu Shen gasped.
"One… one million taels?!"
A gigantic exclamation mark seemed to explode above his head, stretching all the way into the heavens.
San Shier chuckled.
"The Heavenly Lord said: 'I'm giving you one million taels. Use it to rebuild Shanxi.'"
He continued calmly,
"'If you do well, I'll give you another ten million. If you fail… then you'll have to answer to Heaven yourself.'"
Wu Shen felt as if a mountain had dropped straight down onto his shoulders.
He looked up at the sky and sighed deeply.
"This… is what one calls immense pressure."
San Shier sucked in a sharp breath.
"Sir Wu, you—"
Wu Shen rolled his eyes.
"This is called substituting the plum for the peach."
San Shier sputtered.
"Pfft—!"
A guard rushed over in alarm.
"Steward San? Steward San! What's wrong? Someone call a doctor!"
By the time Wu Shen arrived in Taiyuan Prefecture, officials of every rank were already lined up, waiting respectfully to receive him.
Standing at the very front was Dai Jun'en, the former governor.
The moment Wu Shen saw the gentle old man, guilt and embarrassment flooded his heart. He hurried forward and bowed deeply.
"Sir Dai… this junior… this junior… alas, it was all because of this junior's memorial—"
Dai Jun'en smiled warmly.
"It's quite alright. Quite alright," he said calmly.
"From the very day I took office, I was already prepared to retire. This mess in Shanxi was never something an old poet like me could untangle. Being able to hand it over to a capable young official like Sir Wu—this old man is truly at ease."
He patted Wu Shen's shoulder.
"Shanxi is in your hands now."
Wu Shen nodded solemnly.
"This junior will certainly give everything he has."
Dai Jun'en laughed.
"Good, good. Then this old man can finally retire in peace. Ah… suddenly I feel the urge to write poetry."
At once, a household servant rushed forward, presenting the four treasures of the study.
Dai Jun'en grabbed the brush and scribbled a few lines, then burst into laughter and crumpled the paper.
"No, no, this won't do! I'm too old. I can't even write a proper poem anymore!"
Wu Shen spoke up,
"This junior has a poem he wishes to offer Sir Dai."
Dai Jun'en raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
Wu Shen took the brush and wrote boldly:
My sash clings to distant emerald grass,
My books mirror the glow of the setting sun.
Though secluded woods are etched by Sima Qian,
A cherished name, too, may rest in halls of stone.
Dai Jun'en read it carefully, then burst into hearty laughter.
"'A cherished name in halls of stone'?" he repeated.
"Hahaha! How could an old man like me claim such a thing? Shanxi was a disaster under my rule! A cherished name? I wouldn't dare!"
With a sweep of his sleeve, he turned and departed grandly with his household servants.
The moment he left, the officials surged forward—bowing, greeting, flattering—every kind of cow-ghost and snake-spirit crawling out to show their faces.
A provincial governor was a true regional overlord.
Calling him a local emperor wasn't much of an exaggeration.
At the very back of the crowd stood two military officers. They tried repeatedly to push forward but never got the chance.
They were Brigade-General Hu Dawei and Brigade-General Liu Guangzuo, who had once accompanied Dai Jun'en to Hedong.
Hu Dawei leaned in and whispered,
"Old Liu… I heard this Wu Shen is insanely rich. He carries a hundred thousand taels wherever he goes and just throws money around. The bandits don't even fight anymore—they kneel and stretch out their hands like quails waiting to be fed."
He lowered his voice further.
"Everyone secretly calls him… Wu Hundred-Thousand."