Wang Weizhang, Governor of Sichuan, stood on the Chengdu city wall and looked at the formation before him.
Row upon row of colorful spearmen.
Bright tassels.
Embroidered banners.
Mountain warriors standing tall like they were posing for a festival parade instead of reinforcing a warzone.
His mood was… complicated.
Very complicated.
He lifted his sleeves, cupped his hands formally toward Ran Ke, and spoke with the politeness of a man who had swallowed vinegar.
"General Ran."
Ran Ke returned the gesture, relaxed, almost amused.
Wang Weizhang continued, his voice smooth but edged with acid.
"The last time this humble official requested assistance, General Ran refused without hesitation. Yet today, when Chengdu faces danger, you arrive so generously to lend aid. It seems… General Ran still keeps a minor governor like me somewhere in his heart."
The words were polite.
The meaning was not.
Even a passing mule could hear the accusation beneath it.
You respect him, not me.
You value others, not me.
Ran Ke laughed softly. Not loudly. Not angrily. Just the laugh of a mountain man who did not care about court etiquette.
"Governor," he said plainly, "when you implemented policies, all the benefits went to the Han households. My Tujia people of Kaixian received nothing. Not a single advantage. Now that cannons are firing and blades are drawn, suddenly you remember this general?"
He tilted his head.
"Where is the justice in that?"
Wang Weizhang opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Because there was no safe reply.
Ran Ke continued, unhurried.
"I did not come to Chengdu to help you. I came to deal with the bandits quickly so they do not roam freely and disturb the prosperity of my own people. That is all."
That is all.
The governor felt as if someone had shoved cured chili directly into his throat.
He flicked his sleeve sharply.
"Hmph," he cursed silently. "Mountain savage."
He turned away from Ran Ke and looked toward the Pacification Commissioner of Pengshui, leader of the local Miao forces.
Perhaps this one would show some decorum.
Perhaps this one would behave like a proper subordinate.
He had barely opened his mouth when the Miao leader snorted and turned his head aside as if examining distant clouds.
Wang Weizhang closed his mouth again.
The silence was suffocating.
Fortunately, the Enshi Pacification Commissioner stepped forward.
Now this man had grown up in the Enshi Grand Canyon, a place so beautiful and untouched by chaos that it might as well have been a hidden paradise blessed by Dao Xuan Tianzun Himself. People raised in such scenery often developed calm temperaments and faint smiles that suggested they were watching the world as if it were theater.
He waved lightly.
"Greetings, Governor."
Wang Weizhang almost teared up from gratitude.
Finally. Someone civil.
"General, you truly place the court's interests above all," the governor said warmly.
The Enshi Commissioner reached behind his back.
Instead of presenting a memorial or military document, he produced a fragrant slab of cured pork.
He pressed it into Wang Weizhang's hands.
"Come, come. Taste this."
The governor blinked.
"This is the first batch from our Enshi pig farm and pork processing workshop. Authentic Enshi cured pork. Rich aroma. Deep flavor. If you find it delicious, remember to purchase more."
Wang Weizhang stared at the meat.
Then at the man.
Then at the meat again.
Something in the universe had shifted.
The Enshi Commissioner suddenly leapt onto the city wall like an excited marketplace vendor and shouted toward the common people gathered below.
"Prosperous citizens of Chengdu! Have you tasted true Enshi cured pork? I doubt it! But worry not! Our factories are already built! Our goods will arrive soon! Please support us generously!"
He beamed.
"We Enshi people treat you as family. We came all this way to defend your city. Surely you can buy a few pieces of our cured pork in return. As a learned Han scholar once told me, courtesy demands reciprocity!"
Wang Weizhang nearly choked to death.
"Drag him down!" he shouted. "Immediately!"
No one moved.
Behind the smiling Enshi Commissioner stood a line of Miao soldiers gripping sabers.
Their expressions said clearly: Try it.
Han officials might obey bureaucracy.
Mountain warriors obeyed something else entirely.
The governor's subordinates quietly stepped backward.
Then something even more astonishing happened.
Several Miao soldiers jumped forward onto the wall, each holding cured pork, and began dancing.
Dancing.
On the defensive wall of Chengdu.
While singing.
"Oh cured pork from home, fragrant and rich, dripping with oil! Take a bite and never leave! Why hesitate, why delay, buy today, oh!"
Ran Ke stared.
His jaw hung open.
"You can advertise like this?"
He scratched his head.
"Who taught them? That fellow is even more simple-minded than I am. He would never think of such a scheme."
At that moment Flat Rabbit squeezed out from behind the formation, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Gao Chuwu, Zheng Daniu, Zheng Gouzi," he muttered, "none of them have brains sharp enough for this. Someone smarter from our village must have entered Sichuan."
He squinted thoughtfully.
"Ah. It must be San Shier."
Far away in Enshi County, San Shier sneezed.
He stood in front of newly built pig pens, addressing a group of curious Miao villagers.
"I wonder who is thinking of me," he laughed.
Then he clapped his hands.
"Now listen carefully. The key to pig farming is epidemic prevention. Hygiene must be strict. Do not assume pigs are dirty and neglect cleaning. You must manage the pens properly. Preparation averts disaster."
Back in Chengdu, Wang Weizhang's patience finally shattered.
"We were under cannon fire moments ago!" he roared. "This is a battlefield! Can you show some seriousness?"
The Enshi Commissioner answered calmly.
"The bandits have already retreated. We came as reinforcements. We will camp here two days and observe. Do you expect us to march endlessly without rest and plunge immediately into another engagement?"
He smiled faintly.
"If that is your attitude, we can return to the mountains."
Ran Ke nodded immediately.
"Yes. Return to the mountains."
Other commissioners echoed in chorus.
"Return to the mountains."
Wang Weizhang panicked.
"No, no. Rest. Please rest properly."
The Enshi Commissioner grinned brightly.
"You see? When Miao people rest, we sing and dance."
He waved grandly.
"Music! Continue!"
The dancing resumed.
The cured pork anthem grew louder.
Ran Ke suddenly stiffened.
"This will not do. Our Tujia cannot be outshone!"
A subordinate whispered, "But we brought no goods."
Ran Ke slapped his thigh.
"The bedding. Xilankapu brocade. Take it out!"
At once the Kaixian soldiers unpacked vibrant woven textiles.
They rushed onto the wall, waved the brilliant brocade high, and began their own performance.
"Authentic Kaixian Xilankapu! Durable! Beautiful! Warm in winter! Buy now!"
The city wall had transformed into a trade fair.
Wang Weizhang trembled with rage.
"These are not reinforcements. They are merchants!"
He stormed toward Qin Liangyu.
"Old General Qin, only you can control them."
Qin Liangyu raised an eyebrow.
"The bandits have retreated. Chengdu is temporarily safe. The next strategy is undecided. During this interval, what is wrong with promoting local products?"
She shrugged lightly.
"Fighting is serious. Living is also serious."
The governor's mind went blank.
Qin Liangyu turned and winked at a soldier behind her.
"It is time for Shizhu to participate."
Soon another voice joined the chorus.
"Shizhu Coptis! Excellent medicinal quality! Chengdu apothecaries welcome!"
The city wall now echoed with pork songs, textile chants, and herbal sales pitches.
Smoke from earlier cannon fire still drifted faintly in the air.
Below, the citizens of Chengdu stared upward in disbelief.
War and commerce.
Sabers and cured meat.
Mountain warriors advertising with more enthusiasm than battlefield fury.
Wang Weizhang stood frozen between anger and helplessness, suddenly realizing something he had never understood before.
These people were not mere pawns of the court.
They were communities.
They had homes.
They had industries.
They had pride.
If they were going to bleed for Chengdu, they would also sell to Chengdu.
And on that peculiar afternoon, atop the battered walls of a city that had narrowly escaped destruction, the loudest sounds were not cannons.
They were advertisements.
And somewhere in the distance, San Shier sneezed again.