Gu Yanwu stayed at the inn in Gao Family Village for three full days.
For those three days, he did nothing but wander about, eyes wide open, carefully observing this strange, almost unbelievable place.
Very quickly, he realized that Gao Family Village was fundamentally different from any other village he had ever seen in the Great Ming.
The common folk here were spirited and optimistic. They were not merely struggling to survive day by day—they were actively striving for a better life. Their horizons were broad, their minds constantly refreshed by Gao Family Village News, and they discussed current affairs with enthusiasm and confidence.
When they encountered injustice, they did not swallow it in silence.
They spoke out.
They criticized.
They argued.
They discussed how the nation could be improved.
Elsewhere, such conversations belonged exclusively to "officials" and "scholars."
But here—
Everyone talked about them.
This filled Gu Yanwu with a profound sense of satisfaction.
Unable to restrain himself, he took out his brush and, right on the wall of Gao Family Village's main fortress, wrote a line in bold strokes:
"Every man bears responsibility for the rise and fall of the nation."
Half an hour later, Fang Wushang—Gao Family Village's military inspector—appeared before him and arrested him on the spot for "vandalism and destruction of public property."
Considering that Gu Yanwu had traveled from afar, was unfamiliar with Gao Family Village's regulations, and was a first-time offender, the punishment was relatively light.
He was sentenced to community service.
First, he had to personally whitewash the wall he had defaced.
Second, he had to clean the train station for half a day.
Unfortunately, Gu Yanwu had never whitewashed anything in his life.
The result was disastrous.
Paint splattered everywhere—his clothes, his hands, his face. By the time he finally finished repainting the wall, he looked like a walking palette. Then he was handed a broom and ordered to sweep the train station without pause.
Coming from a family with eight hundred mu of ancestral land, Gu Yanwu was not lacking in money. Desperate to escape his misery, he hurriedly produced silver and tried to bribe Fang Wushang.
To his shock, Fang Wushang was utterly incorruptible.
Not only did he refuse the silver, he flew into a rage—
—and added another half-day of community service.
Early the next morning, Gu Yanwu rubbed his aching back and sore arms, boarded the train, and left for Puzhou.
Taiyuan, Shanxi
Taiyuan lay cradled between two massive mountain ranges—one to the east, one to the west.
Commanding rivers and mountains alike, it was the very backbone of the empire, a strategic stronghold treasured by every dynasty since antiquity.
At the height of the Ming Dynasty, Taiyuan Prefecture's population had once exceeded 4.2 million.
But by the Chongzhen era, after years of relentless drought, foreign invasions, and rampant banditry, the registered population had fallen to less than two million.
When Wu Shen saw the numbers, he couldn't help but shed tears.
Two million people.
What kind of suffering had swallowed the other two million?
"San Shier," Wu Shen said heavily, staring at the document in his hand. "Taiyuan still has nearly two million people. I have one million taels of silver bestowed by the Heavenly Lord—but if I divide it evenly, each person gets only five qian. What am I supposed to do?"
San Shier laughed.
"Lord Wu, you're here to govern, not to hand out porridge. Not all two million people are starving refugees. There's no need to calculate like that. You're worrying yourself for nothing."
Wu Shen's eyes lit up.
"Ah—you're right!"
San Shier continued, "According to the Heavenly Lord's consistent methods, the first step in developing any region is simple: give people work. Once they earn wages, they'll have money. Once they have money, they'll spend it. And once they spend it, every industry revives."
He smiled.
"A small lever can move a mountain."
Wu Shen nodded without hesitation.
"Logical."
He was a practical official, not a desk-bound theorist. Once his mind cleared, ideas immediately surged forth.
"The Manchus have just retreated," Wu Shen said. "Taiyuan is a northern border city—the people are still terrified. If I begin rebuilding border fortifications now and offer wages, they'll flock to us."
San Shier nodded. "Agreed."
"And roads," Wu Shen added. "We must build roads."
San Shier nodded again. "To get rich, build roads first."
Then he changed his tone.
"Lord Wu, don't think in terms of sequence. You have two million people right now—two million! That's enough manpower to launch every industry simultaneously. Don't worry about which comes first or which is more important."
He spread his hands.
"Let everyone work. My Blue Hat specialists can each oversee an industry. We advance on all fronts."
Wu Shen slapped his thigh.
"You're absolutely right! With so many people, what is there to fear? Let's do it!"
Taiyuan Prefecture immediately launched a massive recruitment campaign.
Road construction.
Factory building.
City repairs.
Militia recruitment.
From the moment Wu Shen arrived, the entire prefecture was thrown into furious motion.
At first, the common folk hesitated.
The list of government projects was long—too long. They feared the officials wouldn't pay.
But soon, a rumor began spreading through Taiyuan city and its surrounding counties.
"The new governor's nickname is Wu Million—he brought a million taels of silver with him!"
"He's insanely rich! Have you ever seen a million taels? It stacks up like a mountain!"
"They say Wu Million has divine fortune—his money never runs out. He used to be called Wu Hundred-Thousand, but the more he spent, the more money he had!"
"A man that rich wouldn't dare default on three catties of flour a day!"
"I'm going to try working for him."
In those times, a rumor was often more effective than an official proclamation.
The common folk were quickly drawn in by Wu Million's fearsome reputation.
Wu Shen, shrewd as he was, immediately realized the power of this nickname.
He ordered the million taels of silver hauled onto the city wall, piling them into a glittering mound that dazzled the eyes.
Then, he arranged for a special operations soldier from the Gao Family Village militia to disguise himself as an ordinary worker.
In front of a massive crowd, Wu Shen personally took a piece of broken silver from the pile and handed it to the "worker" as a reward.
"He really pays!"
"He's not like those other officials!"
"As long as the wages are real, I'll do anything!"
"Me too!"
The legend of Wu Million spread like wildfire.
With nearly two million people, the effect was explosive.
Within days, tens of thousands joined road construction.
Tens of thousands marched north to rebuild the border city and fortifications.
At the eastern and western foothills of Taiyuan, cement plants, coal mines, steelworks, and factories rose simultaneously, swallowing tens of thousands of workers.
The entire prefecture roared to life.
The sound of hammering, digging, and shouting echoed through valleys and plains.
This frenzy soon reached the mountains.
The refugees hiding there heard the news.
They were the "missing" two million—people erased from the household registry but still alive.
As they hesitated, another message reached them, carried by hunters sent by San Shier:
"Any refugee who comes down from the mountains to work will immediately have their household registration restored, regaining their status as commoners. This is what people call turning over a new leaf."
The mountains erupted.
Refugees poured down like a flood.
Taiyuan Prefecture's population surged overnight by two hundred thousand.