It was the twelfth month of winter, in the fifth year of the Chongzhen Emperor's reign—
the year 1632.
Cold.
Bitter, bone-piercing cold.
For reasons no one could explain, the past few winters had grown increasingly brutal, colder than any living person could remember. Even the old men, who loved to boast about having "seen everything," could only shake their heads and fall silent.
For the poor, winter had always been a trial.
But this year, it was an execution.
Those without proper clothing shivered through the nights. Those without food endured hunger layered atop frost. In previous winters, families with a little spare silver could still scrape together enough to buy coal, light a small brazier, and survive.
This year?
The Yellow River had burst its banks at Mengjin County. Floodwaters drowned half the Henan plain. Coal mines around Luoyang were submerged one after another, production completely halted.
No coal.
No fire.
The common folk could only grit their teeth and endure.
But today—
The freezing despair ended.
More than a dozen large carts rolled into Luoyang City in succession, creaking beneath their heavy loads. They passed through the gates and stopped before the government-run coal depot.
Henan Governor Fan Shangzheng personally stepped forward and announced loudly:
"Coal is now available for purchase once more!"
The city exploded.
Cheers rippled outward like a wave. Crowds surged toward the depot from every direction. Even those too poor to buy rushed over—if only to shout, to laugh, to feel hope again. Those with modest means shoved forward eagerly, clutching copper coins with reddened hands.
At a distant street corner, Eunuch Zheng stood quietly, hidden among the shadows.
His expression was… complicated.
Joy.
Relief.
Regret.
And a sharp, gnawing pain in his heart.
Meanwhile, Fan Shangzheng gazed upon the bustling crowd, his smile widening by the second.
Political achievement, he thought.
Pure, unadulterated political achievement.
At that moment, he noticed someone approaching.
Li Daoxuan.
The Mysterious Hero of the Central Plains smiled and waved.
"Governor Fan, you seem in excellent spirits."
Fan Shangzheng laughed heartily.
"How could I not be? It's all thanks to the Mysterious Hero—mediating between Bai Yuan and the Prince of Fu's estate, resolving disputes, restoring coal supplies, and incidentally saving the people of Henan from freezing to death."
He lowered his voice slightly, pleased.
"I am already drafting a memorial to the court, praising the Prince of Fu's estate and the gentry for working together to relieve disaster victims."
Li Daoxuan chuckled.
"Excellent. A model for all under heaven to follow."
Fan Shangzheng nodded solemnly.
"All under heaven should follow it."
Just then, a rider galloped in at full speed, dust flying.
"Governor!" the messenger shouted. "A letter from His Majesty!"
"A letter?" Fan Shangzheng frowned slightly. "Not an imperial decree?"
"Yes—just a letter."
Fan Shangzheng accepted it and read quickly.
The opening lines rebuked him harshly for allowing Shanxi rebels to slip into Henan, causing chaos in several counties. Then came praise for his success in capturing the Eight Great Kings of the Southern Camp and sending them to the capital.
Merits and demerits canceled each other out.
No reward.
No punishment.
Fan Shangzheng sighed and handed the letter to Li Daoxuan.
"Without the Mysterious Hero's help this time, my official hat would already be gone."
Li Daoxuan smiled faintly.
History has shifted again, he thought.
In the original timeline, Fan Shangzheng had failed disastrously. Rebels ravaged Henan. He was dismissed and sent home. In the sixth year of Chongzhen's reign, Xuan Mo would replace him—only to fail even faster.
But now?
Zhu Youjian had no intention of removing Fan Shangzheng.
He might even remain in office for some time.
Fan Shangzheng leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"I'll only say this to you. His Majesty… has grown increasingly extreme. Civil governance means little to him now. Suppress bandits, and he smiles. Fail at it, and no merit can save you."
He sighed bitterly.
"Sometimes, I truly no longer know what a civil official's duty even is."
Li Daoxuan shook his head, smiling without warmth.
At that moment, another rider arrived.
"Governor! Zhang Fengyi's Sichuan White Pole Soldiers have reached Wenshui County. They are preparing to enter the Taihang Mountains to suppress bandits."
Li Daoxuan's expression shifted.
Zhang Fengyi…
He frowned inwardly.
Ma Xianglin isn't with her? This feels familiar… too familiar.
He had read this passage once. Long ago. The details were blurry—but his instincts screamed warning.
"Governor," Li Daoxuan said calmly, "I have urgent matters to attend to. I'll take my leave."
Fan Shangzheng clasped his hands.
"Mysterious Hero, please."
Li Daoxuan entered the coal depot, now bustling with Gao Family Village personnel. Officially government-run—practically Gao-controlled.
He sat down and gave a simple order:
"Immediately transfer this body to Wenshui County."
His consciousness withdrew.
Outside the box, Li Daoxuan opened his computer and began searching.
The results confirmed his fear.
In the fifth year of Chongzhen's reign, Ma Xianglin—the One-Eyed Horse—and his wife Zhang Fengyi had split forces. Records said Ma "returned south," though no one knew what that truly meant.
Zhang Fengyi stayed.
Two to three months later—
She was surrounded and killed in battle at Houjia Village.
Where was Houjia Village?
Li Daoxuan searched.
Too many.
Houjia Village in Hebei.
Houjia Village in Shanxi.
Houjia Village in Henan.
Historical records contradicted each other completely.
He closed the map.
I'll find her first, he decided.
Then I'll worry about where she dies.
Wenshui County.
Zhang Fengyi arrived at the county seat leading one thousand Sichuan White Pole Soldiers.
This was not her intended route. She had planned to move north toward Huaiqing Prefecture, but rebel bands scattered like ghosts—appearing in Xiuwu one day, Wushe the next, then vanishing again.
Chasing them had dragged her straight into Wenshui.
To find a county that still stood intact amid the ruins was a rare comfort.
And at the city gate, she noticed something even more heartening.
The county magistrate, Chen Yuanbo, wore a familiar silver-embroidered emblem on his chest.
She remembered it.
Back in Puzhou, Xing Honglang's reinforcements had worn the same mark.
She didn't know which deity it represented—but it certainly wasn't an evil one.
"Magistrate Chen," Zhang Fengyi greeted with a clasped fist.
"This general has led the White Pole Soldiers in pursuit of Shanxi bandits. Men and horses are exhausted. We request temporary lodging. We will depart early tomorrow morning. I guarantee strict discipline."
Chen Yuanbo smiled sincerely.
"General Zhang, your reputation precedes you. You are most welcome."
As he turned to make arrangements, the Silver-Thread Dao Xuan Tianzun on his chest spoke softly:
"When does Zhang Fengyi plan to leave?"
Chen Yuanbo replied, "Early tomorrow morning."
The Dao Xuan Tianzun fell silent for a moment, then said calmly:
"Tomorrow morning? Good. That's enough time."