Before the hour of mao, the sky was still dark.
The wasteland west of the city was already packed, with no room to stand.
Thousands of people were crammed outside the wooden fence, pushing against the posts until they groaned and creaked, ready to snap at any moment. Hundreds of hands reached through the gaps, fingernails packed with black grime, skin stretched over bone, straining desperately forward.
The wind carried a sour, putrid stench—the smell of thousands of unwashed bodies and festering sores fermenting together.
Xu Qinghuan sat inside her carriage, lifting the curtain just a crack.
The noise outside wasn't human; it was the howl of wolves driven mad by hunger.
"Pick me! I'm strong! I can move stones!"
"Please, kind master! My three children are starving!"
"Get out of my way!"
Someone was pushed down. A scream rose, only to be instantly swallowed by the roars of the crowd. A head cracked open, blood streaming down to seal an eye shut, yet no one wiped it away, only pushing forward with even greater frenzy.
Xu Qinghuan let the curtain fall.
The pleasant scent of incense inside the carriage was no match for the foul odor from outside.
She leaned back against the soft cushions, tapping her fingers lightly on her knees.
This was exactly the scene she wanted.
This was the people living in dire straits. This was abusing power to bully the weak.
The red countdown on her system panel was still ticking, but she wasn't worried at all now. Once today's performance was over, once her reputation for "exploiting disaster victims to build roads" spread, that progress bar was sure to reverse.
"Miss."
Zhao Si's voice came from outside the carriage window, carrying a distinct tremor. "Th-there are too many people. The fence won't hold. If they break through... our men here wouldn't be enough to fill their teeth."
"What's there to fear?"
Xu Qinghuan's voice was steady. "A pack of starving ghosts. Give them a bone, and you can leash them."
She pushed the carriage door open.
A cold wind rushed in, making her crimson cloak snap and billow.
Xu Qinghuan stepped down using the footstool. Before she could steady herself, the overwhelming stench hit her full in the face. She didn't cover her nose. Instead, she lifted her chin, her gaze passing over the two rows of house servants barely holding the line with their intimidation clubs, landing on the faces of the disaster victims.
The crowd quieted for an instant, then erupted into even greater clamor.
It was the look of seeing meat.
In their eyes, this young mistress in a red cloak, with her delicate skin and fine features, was a walking piece of fat, a living god of wealth worth a hundred copper coins.
"All of you, shut up!"
Xu Qinghuan snatched the metal loudspeaker from Zhao Si's hand. She didn't use much force, but these words were amplified by the system—sharp, piercing, dripping with undeniable malice.
The first few rows of people flinched, pulling their necks in.
"Look at the state of you."
Xu Qinghuan stood on the raised platform, pointing down at them imperiously. "Every one of you looks like a starving ghost reborn. My Xu family is hiring laborers, not running a charity. Want money? Want meat? Then you follow my rules."
She turned, pointing to the empty ground on the left.
"That side. Only the old, weak, sick, and disabled."
Her words left everyone stunned.
Hiring for road construction was hard labor; it always demanded the young and strong. What sense did it make to only want the old, weak, sick, and disabled?
"Don't understand?"
Xu Qinghuan gave a cold laugh, pushing the villain's logic to its extreme. "The young and strong have strength and too many cunning ideas; they're hard to control. I want those who are half-dead, those with no strength. People like that are easy to bully. Give them a little money and they'll sell their lives. Beat them to death and no one will care."
Her words were brutally frank, utterly vile.
Zhao Si, standing beside her, turned pale.
If these words got out, the Xu family's reputation would be thoroughly ruined. It was treating human life as worthless grass.
But the victims below had no time to think about reputation.
Those old men and women who had been huddled at the back, thinking they had no chance, and those women with children, their eyes suddenly lit up.
"Me! I'm useless! I only have one arm!"
The one-armed man from earlier desperately shoved forward, swinging his empty sleeve wildly. "Miss, pick me! I'm the most obedient! I'll work for the money!"
"And me! I'm sixty! My leg's lame!"
"I have a child! Just give us some food, I'll do anything!"
The situation reversed in an instant.
The strong, able-bodied men were pushed to the back, while a crowd of old, weak, and sickly people who looked ready to collapse at any moment surged to the front. They desperately displayed their infirmities, treating this as their only lifeline.
Xu Qinghuan was pleased.
This was right.
Leave the young and strong for the imperial court to repair the river embankments. Take in these unwanted burdens. Giving this hundred coins to them was what could truly save lives.
"Let them in."
Xu Qinghuan waved her hand. "Five hundred first. I'll take whoever catches my eye."
An opening was made in the fence.
The crowd surged in like madmen.
Zhao Si and the servants tried to hold them back with clubs, almost getting overwhelmed.
"Stop pushing! Anyone who pushes loses their chance!"
Xu Qinghuan had someone bring a long whip. She cracked it with a snap on the empty ground ahead, sending dust flying. "Anyone who dares make a wrong move, I'll whip them to death!"
With that crack of the whip, the crowd finally grew afraid.
They weren't afraid of starving, but they were terrified of losing this chance to live.
A line slowly began to form.
Xu Qinghuan sat in her chair, pointing at random.
"That lame one, in."
"That one holding a child, in."
"That one coughing blood, in."
Each person she pointed at acted as if they had topped the imperial exams, scrambling and crawling inside the fence, kneeling on the ground to kowtow to Xu Qinghuan.
Those not chosen wailed outside.
The sound of weeping shook the heavens.
"Miss, please have mercy..."
"We want to sell our lives too..."
Someone tried to rush the fence, only to be struck back by a servant's club.
Blood splattered on the muddy ground.
Watching this scene, the thrill of intended wickedness in Xu Qinghuan's heart faded somewhat, replaced by an inexplicable irritation.
There still wasn't enough money.
If she had ten million taels, she could take in all these thousands.
"Bring up the money."
Xu Qinghuan said with a dark expression, not wanting to look at those weeping faces anymore.
Several servants grunted as they carried up four large baskets.
The baskets were tipped over.
Clatter—
It was the sound of copper coins colliding—clear, pleasing, more beautiful than any instrument in the world.
The coins piled into a small hill, gleaming with a dull luster in the morning light.
The weeping stopped.
Everyone's gaze was glued to that mountain of money, throats making gulping sounds.
It was real money.
Not promises, not empty talk, but solid copper coins.
"And meat."
Xu Qinghuan pointed to the dozen large cauldrons that had been set up earlier.
The firewood burned fiercely. When the lids were lifted,
white steam billowed into the air. Carried by the wind, the scent of meat instantly swept through the entire camp.
Slices of fatty meat tumbled in the broth, a layer of oil floating on top.
A deathly silence fell over the camp.
Then came a unified, spine-chilling intake of breath.
Someone knelt.
Not to beg for mercy, nor to curry favor.
It was an instinctive reaction, the reaction of people faced with a miracle beyond their comprehension.
In these times when people swapped children to eat, this pile of copper coins, these cauldrons of fatty meat, were a miracle.
Xu Qinghuan stood up and grabbed a handful of coins.
The coins clattered in her hand.
"Today's wages. Paid in advance."
She let go of her hand, and the copper coin fell back into the basket. "Once you've eaten your fill of meat and taken your money, go move stones on the mountain for me. Anyone who dares to slack off, I'll take this money back."
The first to step forward was the one-armed man.
With trembling hands, he took the heavy string of one hundred copper coins from the accountant.
The coins, warm from another's touch, felt rough against his skin.
He lifted them to his mouth and bit down, his teeth aching from the impact.
They were real.
The man's eyes instantly reddened, tears streaming down his mud-streaked face. He didn't wipe them away. Instead, he turned and ran towards the large cauldron, picked up a bowl of meat broth, and ignoring its scalding heat, threw his head back and gulped it down.
Gulp, gulp.
With the hot soup in his belly, life returned to him.
He slammed the bowl down, stuffed the string of coins into the deepest part of his tunic, then turned and kowtowed heavily three times towards Xu Qinghuan.
His forehead thudded against the muddy ground, bang, bang, bang.
"Young Mistress is a Bodhisattva!"
The man's voice cracked with emotion, "A living Bodhisattva!"
That cry seemed to open a floodgate.
Hundreds of the old, weak, sick, and disabled who had received money and eaten meat all knelt down.
"Bodhisattva bless us!"
"The Xu family's great kindness and virtue!"
What was moments ago a hellscape of starving ghosts fighting for food had, in the blink of an eye, transformed into a sacred site of worship.
The eyes that were once filled with greed, despair, and hatred were now all filled with piety.
They looked at Xu Qinghuan.
That young woman in the red cloak, whip in hand, speaking venomous words, was no longer the magistrate's spoiled daughter in their eyes.
She was a goddess.
A goddess who had pulled them back from the gates of hell.
Xu Qinghuan stood on the high platform, her whip nearly dropping from her hand.
She looked at these people kneeling all over the ground, listening to those grating cries of "Bodhisattva" and "great benefactor."
On the system panel, that damned progress bar hadn't retreated an inch; instead, it had surged forward by a large margin.
[Ding!]
[Detected faith-level gratitude.]
[The hearts of the people are with you, myriad hearts return to one.]
[Reward: Five hundred thousand taels of silver.]
Xu Qinghuan's vision darkened, and she almost toppled off the platform.
She gripped the back of her chair, her nails digging into the wood.
Are these people insane?
I told them I'm here to exploit them, to send them to their deaths, to use them like livestock.
You don't hate me? You worship me instead?
The wind blew over, carrying the scent of meat and the stench of copper.
Xu Qinghuan looked at the still-glittering mountain of money, then at the disaster victims with their greasy faces and fanatical eyes.
She suddenly felt like a joke.
A joke whose money kept growing the more she spent, whose reputation kept improving the worse she tried to be.
"Finished eating..."
Xu Qinghuan forced the words through gritted teeth, her voice somewhat unsteady, "If you're finished eating, then get the hell to work! Anyone who can't move stones gets no food tonight!"
"Yes, Bodhisattva!"
Hundreds of voices roared in unison, shaking the heavens.
Their morale was stronger than that of a regular army.
Carrying their bowls and hoisting their shovels, they marched with vigor and purpose towards Niushou Mountain.
Were they going to their deaths?
No.
They were going to build a golden statue for their Bodhisattva.
