People always said that the greatest heroes served their country and its people.
But what did serving one's country and its people mean? That was a question worth considering.
There was a saying: men of honor were often found among dog butchers, while faithless hearts were often found among scholars.
At this moment, Zhang Qingyuan finally understood what those words meant.
A severe drought had struck Kaifeng Prefecture, leaving its people displaced and homeless.
Not a grain was being harvested, and the parched earth stretched for a thousand li, yet unscrupulous merchants were raking in fortunes.
Those provincial examination graduates still dined on delicacies from the mountains and seas every day, while the government's relief grain never seemed to arrive.
Of course, not all scholars, officials, and merchants were like that. Some scholar-merchants and good officials were doing their best to help the disaster victims.
But there were too few such people. Their efforts were no more than a cup of water thrown onto a cartload of burning firewood.
Zhang Qingyuan was still providing relief. The grain bought with those 4,800 taels of silver had sustained this small town for three days.
To keep more people alive, Zhang Qingyuan had no choice but to use less rice and mix in an equal amount of bran and husks.
He remembered something Lord He had said when he watched Ji Xiaolan in his previous life: as long as it kept you alive, bran and husks were good things.
Over those three days, some people had heard of his deeds and called him an immortal descended to earth.
But hearing that only made Zhang Qingyuan feel worse. If he really were an immortal descended to earth, why would he need to worry about money? Couldn't he simply use a Law Technique, wave his hand, and end the drought?
Unfortunately, even these meager supplies would run out sooner or later. Luckily, however, he had met a gentleman in Dingfeng County, Kaifeng.
The man's surname was Tang, and his name was Tang Jie. He was thirty that year, a licentiate himself, and his family traded in grain.
He had a rounded figure and something of a scholar's look about him.
Zhang Qingyuan had intended to take on some wanted notices with high bounties, but after seeing Master Tang, he felt he ought to work with him instead.
The first time they met, he saw him handing out porridge outside his home.
When it came to charity, many people could tell whether someone was sincere.
Some people gave alms merely to win themselves a good name.
Others genuinely did it for the disaster victims.
The common people were not fools either. They could tell sincerity from pretense.
In his previous life, netizens had praised some companies to the skies, such as ERKE and Mixue Bingcheng.
Although Tang Jie was also a grain merchant, his family's grain prices had never risen from beginning to end. The porridge he handed out was the thickest, and it was served punctually.
Even from far away, one could see the worry covering his face as he dealt with the disaster victims.
Zhang Qingyuan stepped forward and introduced himself. "Greetings, Master Tang."
Seeing the fine fabric of his Daoist robes, Tang Jie assumed he was trying to swindle food and drink out of him and said bluntly, "Young Daoist priest, my family has no spare money left to donate to temples."
Seeing that he had misunderstood, Zhang Qingyuan smiled. "Master Tang, I haven't come to ask for alms. I want to work with you to help more disaster victims."
"Oh?"
"I am Zhang Qingyuan."
Once he gave his name, Tang Jie's eyes lit up, and he hurriedly asked, "Are you Daoist Priest Qingyuan, the divine lord walking among us who spent all his own money in Tangshan Town, raised 4,800 taels of silver, and handed out porridge for five days?"
Just look at that. Who said good deeds never traveled beyond one's door? To think his reputation had already spread.
Zhang Qingyuan smiled sheepishly. "I don't deserve to be called a divine lord. I merely want to do what I can so that more people can survive."
"Forgive my discourtesy." Tang Jie cupped his hands in salute. One of his ancestors had served as an official, an honest one at that. He had grown up with an upright family tradition, so he felt a great fondness for fellow charitable people.
"You're too kind."
"You mentioned working with me just now, Daoist priest. How exactly did you intend for us to cooperate?"
Tang Jie had rather small eyes, a small round face, and phoenix-shaped brows and eyes. When he smiled, he even looked somewhat crafty.
But appearances were no way to judge a person. At least within all of Dingfeng County, his family had the best reputation.
"I can see that you truly want to do something for the disaster victims, Master Tang. May I ask what difficulties you're facing at present?"
Tang Jie sighed at that and said worriedly, "Alas, to tell you the truth, Daoist priest, our grain is running out."
"I heard you had grain brought back from another province?"
Throughout Kaifeng, grain prices were soaring, so anyone who wanted to buy cheap grain had to go to another province.
Although grain prices in the other prefectures, provinces, and counties were fluctuating too, they were still cheaper than those in Kaifeng Prefecture.
"Alas, I had two hundred thousand shi of grain transported here, but a band of mountain bandits intercepted it on the road."
"Mountain bandits seized it?"
"Yes. On Whistle Mountain, a hundred and fifty li from here, there's a Listening Wind Stronghold. Its chief is Chang Lai, the Golden Saber Guest, and he has over a hundred men under him."
"Doesn't the government do anything?"
"Listening Wind Stronghold usually keeps fairly quiet. They don't bully merchants or dominate the markets. Whenever our family transported goods, we could give them a little money, and they'd let us return.
"But now the drought has swept across all of Kaifeng. I imagine they're short of food on the mountain too, so they set their sights on my family's grain."
Zhang Qingyuan nodded. Those who followed the outlaw path in the martial world always called themselves gallant heroes and good fellows.
Mount Liang Marsh was one such example, but if one really counted them up, how many of them truly deserved to be called heroes?
Did not robbing commoners or indiscriminately killing innocents make mountain bandits and brigands heroes?
Bullshit!
Did anyone with a little money deserve to die?
Were the people they robbed all guilty of heinous crimes?
Zhang Qingyuan thought for a moment, then told him, "Let me get that grain back for you first."
"How?" Tang Jie did not understand. These were mountain bandits they were talking about. Why did he make it sound as easy as picking up money?
Zhang Qingyuan smiled. "Have your men bring the horse carts and take me there. I guarantee I'll bring your grain back."
"Surely you don't mean to use force?"
Zhang Qingyuan nodded.
"That's a bandit stronghold! Their chief, Chang Lai, is a disciple of the Golden Saber Sect. Even in the martial world, he's a first-rate expert. Besides, he has over a hundred mountain bandits under him. With so many disaster victims around, some are bound to have gone up the mountain to join him. Their actual numbers have probably long since exceeded two hundred."
"It doesn't matter. Just have your men come with me. To tell you the truth, I have something of a reputation in the martial world myself."
"No, no." Seeing how young he was, Tang Jie did not believe him at all.
Helpless, Zhang Qingyuan turned his head and spotted a hitching post three zhang away. An idea came to him. He drew his sword and swept it sideways. Sword Qi erupted, cutting the post, which had stood there for who knew how long, clean in two.
"Do you believe me now?"
Tang Jie was dumbstruck by that move, yet he still hesitated.
"Can you really defeat Chang Lai?"
"If you're still worried, have your workers wait ten li outside the stronghold. If I haven't come out within half a day, tell them to leave.
"That way, even if you don't get your grain back, you won't lose anything, will you?"
Since he had put it that way, Tang Jie could only nod in agreement.
He summoned several dozen workers, had them hitch up the horse carts, and set off with Zhang Qingyuan.
Sometimes trust was that simple: one dared to say it, and the other dared to believe it.
Zhang Qingyuan left his horse and bundle at Tang Jie's home, took only his sword, and set off with the carts right away.