Chapter 690: One Call, Hundred Responses

"So it's true they gave it all to the people?"

"It's true—we watched it ourselves. This time, the government office actually did the right thing," sighed a martial hero. "At the end of June, fierce winds blew, Fujian rained for days on end, and trees that had stood for decades were uprooted. The disaster was severe. If the government office had still hoarded this money, not just the locals—we'd have risen up ourselves!"

The martial hero spoke of this with deep resentment, lowering his voice: "The rebellion in Ninghua, Fujian—rumor has it—began because imperial court officials forced villagers to mine silver. The miners couldn't survive. Then, with the torrential rain at the end of June and the court's delayed relief, Ye Zongliu took advantage of their desperation, rallied a few thousand, and now they've taken three counties and gathered over twenty thousand."

Pan Yun turned away her gaze, stopped listening, and walked toward the sea vessel.

On the return trip, she placed two helmsmen on each ship—all of them Chen Wen's men.

Pan Yun found one of them, told him to deliver the news to Chen Wen, then stood on deck, looking down upon the sea of humanity.

Officials clustered around Lin Mengzhu and Gao Zhiming and the other eyewitnesses, pressing them to recount every detail of their journey to Japan, especially regarding the silver mines.

The martial heroes embraced their friends, weeping, sharing their sorrows—they had split into three groups, each suffering casualties.

Especially the heroes who attacked Dongyang Island, where the pirates had amassed the most men, the strongest fighters, and the most complete weapons—so many died.

Gao Zhiming also lost a junior brother and junior sister at sea.

Yet, reunion brought far more joy than grief.

In the wide path cleared through the crowd stood a hundred or so laborers in short shirts and shorts, barefoot, bent over, unloading cargo from the ships—some lifting, some carrying—placing sacks and crates in designated spots as directed by a few overseers.

Chen Lan stood beside Gong Xia with Chen Han, laughing and chatting with the crowd, beaming with joy.

Among the throng, Xue Shao was nowhere to be seen.

Xue Shao had left at some point. Qu Le found his way aboard and handed Pan Yun a letter, looking crestfallen: "Xue Shao asked me to give you this."

Pan Yun reached out and took it, casually unfolding it, and asked: "Why do you look like that?"

Qu Le: "Xue Shao was taken away by the Embroidered Uniform Guard. I heard Chen Liutao whisper—he says the silver mine affair blew up, and with the rebellion in Jiangnan, he's likely to be held accountable."

Seeing Pan Yun unmoved, Qu Le urgently asked: "Aren't you going to do anything?"

Pan Yun sighed: "Do you think I'm the emperor… or a god? I can't handle everything."

She unfolded the letter, skimmed it in a glance, and replied offhandedly: "I'm just a small Daoist Priest. I can't even solve the troubles of villagers at the foot of my mountain—how could I help Xue Shao?"

Xue Shao left only one sentence: "Gong Xia is clean in the Navy government office, but he's not clever, impulsive, suspected of neglecting duties—yet he's loyal and compassionate, usable. Though slow and careless, with a little guidance, he'll develop ambition—easy to use."

Usable. Easy to use. Even as he left, he'd found her a tool.

Pan Yun folded the letter, crushed it in her palm, and with a slight squeeze, the paper disintegrated into shreds, fluttering down.

Qu Le gaped: "Why'd you tear it? What did it say?"

"He said you're a Heavy-hearted man, and told me to treat you well—that if I ever need help, I can still turn to you for aid from the Wu Lin Alliance."

Heavy-hearted was the highest praise for a martial hero. Qu Le beamed, thumped his chest, and vowed: "With us like this, why bother with formalities? If you ever need anything, just call me—no need for all that empty ceremony."

Pan Yun nodded: "Good. I have one thing to ask of you right now."

Qu Le blinked: "So soon? Go ahead."

Pan Yun pointed to the cargo on the pier: "Help me clear our goods. Yushan County has rebelled—we're returning there…"

Qu Le instantly understood: "You need money for disaster relief? I heard the floods there are terrible, and there's been landslides too."

Pan Yun nodded: "Yes. So we'll sell cheap—just don't lose money."

"No way," Qu Le said after a moment's thought. "We worked so hard to bring this back—how can we not make any profit? The fine iron sells well here; there are plenty of martial heroes who need weapons. At the right price, it'll move fast. Lacquerware's harder, but not impossible—I'll ask my grandfather. Our family's trading house can take any quantity."

The main goods they imported from Japan were fine iron and lacquerware—all purchased through the Mitada family.

Some martial heroes found the hassle too much and skipped buying fine iron entirely, opting instead for large quantities of Japanese swords.

Japanese swords resembled Tang cross-blades, their craftsmanship mediocre—but they were forged from superior fine iron. When clashed against ordinary weapons, they'd chip or dent them outright.

Hu Jing, who had some knowledge of forging, glanced once and said: "The craftsmanship is poor, but if we give them to our smiths for minor polishing, their sharpness and toughness can increase by two-tenths."

Hearing this, the martial heroes stopped buying lacquerware and fine iron altogether, and rushed to buy the swords.

For ordinary martial heroes, finished swords were far more tempting than fine iron—because they might not find good smiths to forge weapons, or afford custom orders…

So Pan Yun's fine iron held less appeal here, especially since many heroes had already bought it.

Selling here, supply far exceeded demand. Even if they dumped it, they'd get little price.

But who was Qu Le?

He raised his arms and called all the heroes who'd sailed with them: "Daoist Pan is raising relief funds for Yushan County—she's urgently selling fine iron. Don't sell your swords or iron yet—wait until she's done."

The heroes immediately agreed, then ran to find friends who'd wanted to buy their swords or iron: "I'm not selling you my sword or iron anymore."

Friend: …

"Go buy from Daoist Pan Sanzhu—she's desperate for cash to aid Yushan. Don't haggle her price. If you pay too much, I'll make up the difference with my own fine iron."

The friend's face darkened. "After all these years as friends, do you think so little of me? Do you think I'd take your compensation?"

He snorted. "Where's Daoist Pan Sanzhu's fine iron? I'll buy two pieces—at the highest price!"

Song Xuan heard this and refused her junior brothers and sisters' requests to buy fine iron. She not only told them to buy from Pan Yun, but also went to Gao Zhiming: "Should we sell our own fine iron to help Daoist Pan with relief funds?"

Gao Zhiming had no objection.

In moments, word swept through Quanzhou Port. Heroes, regardless of need, pulled out coins and bought.

Qu Le priced it ten percent below Great Ming market rates—Pan Yun made a good profit, and the heroes didn't lose.

Ten percent cheaper, and the iron was better quality than market goods—heroes either used it themselves or resold it, and still profited.

A perfect win-win.

Seeing Miao Zhen watched the whole scene: "Never thought he looked so foolish—he's actually good at business."

Pan Yun: "He's been immersed in it. Even if he didn't do it himself, he'd still be better than ordinary people—that's family tradition."

Pan Yun held no disdain for merchants—she admired them deeply.

Li Wenying appeared beside her, smiling lightly: "Don't say 'family tradition' in front of outsiders—they'll think you're looking down on Qu Le."

Pan Yun glanced at him. "Whether official, scholar-gentry, merchant, artisan, or farmer—anyone who succeeds, who masters their craft, is extraordinary. All deserve reverence. No profession is higher or lower."

Li Wenying's eyes crinkled. "We're Daoists—we think that way. But the world doesn't. Especially them."

Li Wenying lifted his chin, nodding toward the officials and scholar-gentry clustered in the center.

Pan Yun said without ceremony, "Why would I care about them? Why would I care what others do?"

"That's a good mindset!" Li Wenying said with a smile, "So that's why you don't care whether we live or die, and decided to give us a big one out there?"

Pan Yun looked at him curiously: "Why do you have such a big grudge? Zhang Ziming isn't as angry as you are — I thought he looked quite happy."

Li Wenying sighed, wanting to speak but holding back.

Pan Yun: "Speak!"

Li Wenying was silent for a moment, then still shook her head: "Forget it, this matter has nothing to do with you. It's already done, the impact is already made, it can't be changed. What we can focus on is the future."

Pan Yun quietly looked at him.

Li Wenying, however, looked relieved, and said with a smile: "Whatever you want to do, just go do it."

Pan Yun tilted her chin up, pointing below: "Already doing it."

Li Wenying glanced at the heroes below who were scrambling to buy, and said: "A drop in the bucket."

Pan Yun didn't care: "Save one if you can save one."

Li Wenying: "After all these years, I still haven't learned that optimism of yours from Mount Sanqing."

Pan Yun: "That's why you can't enter Mount Sanqing."

Pan Yun asked him: "Are you especially envious that Fourth Senior Sister was taken as a disciple at Mount Sanqing?"

Li Wenying unceremoniously rolled her eyes and said: "The moment I think about that idiot Tao Ji being at Mount Sanqing, I'm not envious at all."

He sighed: "Junior Sister Li really has it hard!"

Miao He, beside them, glared fiercely at him.

Li Wenying looked baffled: "Why is she glaring at me?"

Pan Yun: "Third Senior Brother is her master."

Li Wenying saw that Miao He was already reaching for her sword hilt, and tactfully said nothing more.

What followed was silence — everyone silently watched the bustle below the ship.

Gong Xia and the others were amazed at Pan Yun's ability to rally people. Quanzhou Prefect Lu Mingzhe's gaze flickered slightly, and he sighed: "I didn't expect Daoist Priest Pan's prestige to be so high. I heard she's extremely young, still a little girl. I arrived late and didn't see her — I wonder where she went?"

Lin Mengzhu, hearing this, immediately began looking around with wide eyes.

He had only just raised his head when he saw Pan Yun at the bow of the ship turn and leave, and before long she disappeared from view.

His silly nephew was following right beside her.

He swallowed the words about to leave his mouth, and instead said with a smile: "She's been on campaign for over a month, bearing heavy responsibility, with no rest along the way. Now that she's returned to her hometown, her mind relaxed and her body can't help but grow weary — she should have gone to rest. If Prefect Lu wishes to see her, better wait until after she's rested." (End of chapter)