In the mountain temple before the ancient Wei battlefield, on the broken walls, characters hid in the shadows, yet their literary aura shone brightly, illuminating all four sides.

The Underworld Steed pulled the chariot, appearing once again outside the temple gate. The golden-armored deity entered his domain in the mortal world, standing before the wall of poetry, lost in contemplation.

Upon entering the temple, the golden-armored deity immediately felt as if he were enveloped in a faint, intangible membrane, isolating him from all discomfort outside.

A temple is the dwelling place of a deity in the mortal world, offering great protection, though now most of that protection had faded.

The golden-armored deity paid it no mind, simply observing the writing on the wall.

The sacrificial text was nothing special, just a matter of how red it was, but the sacrificial poem faintly glimmered with a blue light, accumulating and operating within the verses, yet almost imperceptibly.

A so-called renowned poem can only rapidly gather fortune if it is widely spread; now, this poem was only recovering very slowly.

But for a deity, this was not a problem. The Underworld had no shortage of time—what it lacked were such masterpieces that resonated with divinity.

After pondering for a moment, a sudden thought struck him.

At this moment, rain was falling outside, the sound of raindrops drifting in through the door. Who knows how much time passed before the golden-armored deity slowly exhaled and said, “Edward Clark... Heh!”

“I had a premonition that I would awaken from my long slumber three years later, but I did not expect to wake three years early, and with such a fine starting point!”

“If that’s the case, why begrudge a little help?” The golden-armored deity smiled, furrowed his brow in thought, and after a moment, a blue brush appeared in his hand. With a casual motion, he added a signature to the right of the poem: Edward Clark!

These two characters were identical to the others, yet faintly exuded an indescribable aura, immediately drawing one’s attention.

“One third of the fortune you wished for is contained in this signature, to help you through this small difficulty.” The golden-armored deity took a step forward, the wind blowing through the curtains, and his figure instantly vanished from the temple in the mortal world.

The next day · Mountain Road

At this time, sparse autumn rain fell in the cold wind, creating a bleak and desolate autumn scene.

An ox cart, escorted by eight constables, was making its rounds from west to east. As they neared Jiaomen Village, the leader of the constables, Captain Reed, was already somewhat soaked, feeling disgruntled but not daring to show it. From a distance, he saw people coming to greet them and felt a sense of relief.

“Why did the county magistrate suddenly decide to inspect the county in this weather? We’ve been battered by wind and rain—thankfully, we’re almost there.”

On the flat ground before the village, more than a dozen people stood, all neatly dressed, led by a middle-aged man, craning their necks in anticipation. As soon as they saw the ox cart, they hurried forward to greet it.

“Kowtow to the county magistrate!” The group knelt on the grass in the rain, bowing in respect.

With a creak, the ox cart stopped, the curtain was lifted, and County Deputy stepped out. He appeared to be around thirty, wore a tall hat, had fair skin, and three strands of black beard under his chin—indeed, he had an air of authority.

He glanced around and waved his hand, “Why trouble you elders to come so far to greet me? Mr. Cooper, this is your oversight!”

“You are right, sir... It’s just that since you took office, you have governed with integrity, and we have all benefited greatly. This inspection of the county’s nine villages is a labor for the people, and everyone is eager to see your honorable face...” Mr. Cooper replied respectfully, and the other village elders chimed in as well.

Seeing this, County Deputy was well aware of their intentions. As the crowd remained half-bowed, inviting him in, he reached out to help two elderly village elders up and proceeded inside.

This was the third village on his inspection route. He hoped to see some improvement.

At noon, County Deputy was persuaded to stay by the villagers. As he entered, he found himself in the home of a local gentry, a house with three courtyards. Two cooks were busy setting dishes on the table, and as the guests arrived, everything was nearly ready.

County Deputy looked and saw that at his own table, there was a bowl, wine, and seven or eight dishes—twice-cooked pork, freshly slaughtered chicken and duck, and the rest were vegetarian. Though the presentation was not exquisite, the aroma was rich.

For the constables below, the dishes were similar, but four shared a table. Village Head saw the banquet was ready and smiled, inviting everyone to sit: “Please start with the chicken soup. Our village is humble, but these chickens were well-fed and are quite tasty. Please enjoy!”

County Deputy glanced over and, seeing nothing out of order, sat down, tasted a bite, and praised, “Not bad!”

Seeing County Deputy eating, the atmosphere immediately became lively. The constables downed a bowl of yellow wine, then a bowl of chicken soup. The chill from traveling with County Deputy in the autumn rain was instantly dispelled, their bodies warmed, and their spirits lifted. Soon, the feast was in full swing.

Seeing everyone eating heartily, County Deputy ate a little and then fell into thought: “The biggest problem in this village is the lack of good farmland, followed by inconvenient roads. Even with mountain goods, it’s hard to transport them out. Then there’s the issue of flood prevention during summer and autumn... Fortunately, these are peaceful times. If the harvest were poor, with the fierce local customs, it wouldn’t be surprising if bandits emerged.”

“But the construction of public roads is not within my authority at this time. Only with the county magistrate’s approval and implementation can it proceed.” With a slight sigh, he beckoned, and an old servant stepped forward: “Master, what are your orders?”

“Later, reward them with a few taels of silver,” County Deputy said calmly.

“Yes, master!”

After the banquet, the constables dispersed to rest, accompanied by several village scholars. These men spoke only of tranquility and non-action, the mysteries of the Dao, which made County Deputy sigh inwardly.