The quiet did not last long. When word spread that Yushun Fishing Company had been dismantled, everyone set aside what they were doing and came running.

The Sixth Imperial Prince looked at the expressions on their faces — some showed the sharp release of a joy long suppressed over many years; some wore the twisted look of a person who clearly wanted to laugh yet found tears streaming down their face; some wailed outright in the fulfillment of a long-held wish. All manner of things were there, but not a single trace of pity or reluctance.

More people came pressing in, and Chen Zhen and his brother moved to shield His Highness, stepping back.

Yet this retreat was only a beginning. It was as though the entire village were surging toward this place. The crowd swelled; the weeping grew louder. Even the sky seemed to match the occasion — the sun withdrew behind gathering dark clouds, and from somewhere distant came the rumble of thunder.

Even so, the tide of people continued to converge.

Wu Zheng emerged from the entrance of Yushun — one half of its gate hanging skewed, the other half toppled aside. Antai’s hired hands followed, each supporting someone in their arms, men and women, old and young alike. What they all shared was the hollow, sallow look of their faces. Among them, several women walked with their heads bowed, wearing clothing that was clearly not their own, their faces ashen as death.

These women had no path forward — the only question had been where they would die. Yet if they could see their families one last time before the end, that was enough.

“Ahem.” Wu Zheng cleared his throat, keeping his elation well concealed, and said in a carrying voice: “Anyone who has an unsettled account with Yushun — bring your proof and come forward to settle it. Those who have been sending goods to Yushun need not worry either. After consultation between myself and Merchant Li of Shunchang, we will give everyone an answer, and we will not cut off anyone’s livelihood. But you all know my rules at this Wu’s establishment — I take goods, but the goods must be fresh. One instance of substandard goods and this Wu will never buy from that person again. This Wu is not Cao Dahai; such things cannot be tolerated…”

“Let’s go.” These were merely words for winning people’s hearts. The Sixth Imperial Prince listened no further; Elder Sister Hua had sent him to observe the people’s response, and what he had seen was enough.

But what use was seeing any of this? Was Elder Sister Hua hoping he would one day go out and benefit the common people? The Sixth Imperial Prince could not help but wonder. And yet — in just this one village, so many things could happen. The empire was vast beyond reckoning; one could not know how many foul things lay concealed beneath the surface of its apparent peace. His Imperial Father would never know how many common people were being oppressed, because no one would ever tell him these things — what those officials regarded as trivial matters.

He would not say anything either. It would be useless — he knew that. His Imperial Father could not possibly attend to every matter personally. Seated at that lofty position, he could not manage so much, spread across such great distances.

But he could!

He need not sit so high. If Elder Sister Hua hoped he would become a good official, then once he was old enough to leave the palace he would ask His Imperial Father for a posting — a real position somewhere — and go be an official. Far from that position. Far from the cramped and oppressive palace. The Great Qing dynasty was immense; where was there he could not go?

The Sixth Imperial Prince stopped walking and looked back, watching the streams of people converging from all directions. He thought to himself: he would remember this lesson that others had paid in blood. If one day his own wish was granted, in the territory under his governance, he would never allow such a thing to occur again.

Hua Zhi did not yet know that the seed she had planted had already begun to take root. She had drawn up a new list. After reviewing the stock currently held by Antai Fishing Company, she found that her earlier estimates had been on the conservative side. Building on the original foundation, she added several more items, as well as some less commonly found seafood — naturally commanding prices that could not be compared in the same breath. But fine goods were never short of those who knew their worth.

The negotiations tomorrow would surely go very smoothly. Once the contract was settled, they could return to the capital.

Hua Zhi found herself in a bit of a daze. All the time added together — it had to be nearly a month since they had last seen each other. In an age with no written messages or any means of distant communication, maintaining a bond was truly no small thing. Half a month had already passed; Yanxi should have returned by now.

The wind rose. Doors and windows banged and clattered. Before long, rain fell in overwhelming sheets, striking the windowpanes with a sound like scattered beans. The street, which had been quiet for so long, now rang with shouts and cries — even just listening, one could feel the fever of a crowd in full swell.

Stopping Bao Xia from going to close the window, Hua Zhi walked over and leaned lightly against the windowsill, looking in that direction. She glanced downward — and just in time saw the guards shielding Little Six as he sprinted back into the inn.

“Prepare a few dry cloths.”

Before long, there came a sound from behind her.

“Elder Sister Hua, I am back.”

Bao Xia quickly brought the dry cloths forward. Hua Zhi turned around, still leaning against the windowsill without moving away. The wind carried a faint coolness; it felt pleasant against the skin.

“Has Wu Zheng taken control of the situation?”

“Yes. He brought out quite a few people from inside Yushun Fishing Company — from the look of them, they had suffered considerably.” Dabbing at his head and face in an absent sort of way, the Sixth Imperial Prince asked with some puzzlement: “Cao Dahai was so oppressive and lawless — why did the village head not intervene? Even if the village head could not manage it, were there not still the community head, the ward head, the township head above? They could have reported it up the chain; at the very least they could have made Cao Dahai restrain himself somewhat, and the people of Shuiguang Village would have suffered a little less.”

Hua Zhi smiled and beckoned Little Six over with a wave, and the two of them looked out together toward the crowd in the distance — a crowd that had not dispersed even in the torrential rain.

The Great Qing dynasty, like the ancient times she knew of, had administrative structures below the county level — pavilions, townships, wards, and villages — but in some places having such a structure on paper meant very little in practice.

“In this Shuiguang Village, Wu and Li are the prominent surnames — perhaps seven or eight out of ten people in the village belong to one of those two clans. If the village head happened to be from one of those clans, that would be one thing; but if he were from an outside clan, he would be little more than a figurehead. The Great Qing dynasty is centralized at the top, but in places this remote, where heaven is high and the Emperor far away, day-to-day authority actually rests with the clan elders and senior members. One word from them carries more weight than a cartload of words from any village head. Let alone going up against a local strongman — they have no force of arms at their disposal, and cannot even claim to be paper tigers. As for reporting it upward, as you suggest…”

Hua Zhi smiled. “Who would dare? In this world, people with no ties and no attachments are still a rarity. He might report it one moment, and find his family suffering for it the next. We look at Cao Dahai and see nothing more than a stray dog driven out of the county town. But in the eyes of Shuiguang Village’s people, he was a ferocious menace absolutely not to be provoked. So, all things said, it comes down to perspective and what one can see from where one stands. They had been frightened into submission by Cao Dahai.”

The Sixth Imperial Prince listened to every word with intense concentration, digested it all, and then after a long silence finally asked: “So the village head is useless?”

“Not entirely useless — simply not as useful as one might suppose. After all, when the court has a decree to issue, does it not have to be passed down layer by layer?” Hua Zhi looked at the young child deep in thought, and gave his shoulder a light pat. “You can think carefully about whether there is a solution to this problem. Little Six — what ordinary people want has never been much. As long as they can live in stability, they are satisfied.”

“Yes.”

The readiness in his reply made Hua Zhi smile again. A newborn calf does not fear the tiger, as they say. If the problem were so easily solved, why would every dynasty through the ages have gone on using this same administrative structure? Unless, as in the later world she knew, everything became electronic — and one identity card could take a person anywhere in the empire.

Which raised a new problem: first, one would need electricity; after that, one would need computers…

And just like that, Hua Zhi found herself unable to stop laughing.

(Author’s note: I only found out after looking it up that in ancient times the term “town” referred only to garrison outposts on the frontier — there was no “town” as an administrative unit elsewhere. And yet so many novels use it! Novels have misled me!)