Chapter Eight: The New Official's Handbook

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Northern Tower District.
An Xin awoke to the descending night, the city lights just beginning to glow.
He rose, invigorated, his exhausted spirit fully restored.
Stretching his body, the sound of taut muscles cracking brought him great relief.
“Alive once more!”
Throwing open the window, he saw a radiant light atop the stone pagoda directly across from the inn.
The name of the Tower District originated from this nine-story stone pagoda, over forty meters tall, called the Longquan Pagoda. Beside it lay an ancient octagonal well, also named Longquan.
Legend held that the stone pagoda warded off evil, and the Longquan well was imbued with spirit.
The well was especially famous; it was said that drinking its water could bless one with twins—a dragon and a phoenix—a tale well known throughout Northern Wu.
After descending for a bowl of noodles, he rubbed his stomach and returned to his room.
Feeling the breeze for a while, An Xin closed the window, drew the curtain, lit an oil lamp, and began organizing his hiking pack.
Some items were brought from his previous world: a laptop, tablet, phone, external hard drive, chargers, and a densely annotated notebook.
In a plastic bag, he carefully stored potatoes, sweet potatoes, chili peppers—bulk purchases that might prove useful later.
Additional camping gear remained in the car parked in the valley.
Other possessions were obtained from the deceased: an identity seal, official edicts, a rhinoceros horn private seal, a blue official uniform, letters and diaries, and several books, including a well-thumbed “New Official’s Handbook.”
After a thorough check, An Xin neatly packed everything away.
Only the laptop remained on the desk.
He powered it on; 94% battery remained.
“The car’s battery is nearly drained. These electronic devices won’t get recharged again. Must conserve power.”
Thinking this, he turned on his phone and quickly photographed the books he bought that morning at the bookstore, instantly transferring the images to his laptop.
He then opened a locally installed AI program to organize and summarize the historical texts.
Soon, the historical timeline of this world was laid bare by the AI.
“This world’s history, up until the Song dynasties, mirrors Earth’s closely—though not perfectly identical, it’s largely parallel, akin to a parallel universe.
Yet during the Song period, significant divergences arose, steering history down a distinctly different path.
As a result, the Great Yan dynasty, established over two centuries after the brief Southern Song’s fall, exists in this world but never appeared in Earth’s history.”
An Xin studied this familiar yet subtly altered history—familiar threads intertwined with pivotal turns that led to a different historical river.
“At least the culture flows from the same root. Though there are differences, many stories and idioms overlap.”
This would ease communication and minimize misunderstandings.
At least, there would be fewer moments of people talking past each other.

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Seeing the battery drop below 90%, An Xin hastily shut down the laptop and packed it away.
Weighing his purse, he decided to buy new clothes and a wig at the tailor’s shop.
It was best to avoid looking disheveled; a short haircut might easily draw suspicion as a monk or a criminal.
Fifty taels of silver held considerable purchasing power—the county magistrate’s annual salary was just over forty taels, and a county clerk would have to save two years without expenses to accumulate fifty taels.
He hid his luggage securely.
Stepping outside, the night breeze was mild, unlike the chill in the mountains.
An Xin reached out to touch a rotating floral lantern hanging above the inn’s entrance, designed to attract customers. Painted with birds, flowers, and elegant ladies, the flickering candlelight made the figures seem almost alive.
“Sweet tofu pudding~”
“Sugar figurines~”
“Fresh wontons, thin skin, generous filling!”
“Come see all kinds of lanterns!”
The bustling street life unfolded vividly before An Xin’s eyes, making this world feel even clearer to him.
“Make way!”
“Clear the path or don’t blame us if you get trampled!”
Suddenly, urgent footsteps echoed from the street corner.
Seven or eight burly men, each carrying a large blade, charged past. The locals hurriedly avoided them, unwilling to block their way.
“Hey, what kind of people are those?”
An Xin quietly asked the innkeeper standing at the door.
“Sir, those are ruffians from the Big Blade Gang, really fierce. You’re from out of town—make sure you don’t mess with them!
Anyone they set their sights on ends up skinned alive!”
The innkeeper whispered a warning, seeing An Xin was a guest at the inn.
“Why does the government allow them to openly carry swords in public?”
An Xin frowned.
“Sir, the Big Blade Gang runs a security escort agency. Carrying weapons is officially sanctioned by the authorities.”
Since An Xin had rented a deluxe room at Tongfu Inn and appeared wealthy, the innkeeper explained but clearly avoided delving deeper into the topic.
Watching the townsfolk scurry away like from vipers, An Xin realized that the Big Blade Gang was a highly intimidating local power in Wuren County.
“If I can bring such a force under my control, I could do some unsavory work that can’t be done openly. But it’s a double-edged sword—if mismanaged, it could harm both others and myself.”
An Xin pondered.
He was unlike ordinary county magistrates.

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His primary goal was not to amass wealth but to secure real power that would firmly advance his objectives.
This meant his approach in Wuren County would not be the usual harmonious arrangement where the local gentry and officials kept their wealth and split the commoners’ earnings.
Whoever had money would be made to part with it.
And he would earn it standing tall!
This was because the power feedback from his official seal depended heavily on the public’s approval rating.
Power had both formal authority and practical authority.
Formal authority came from above, representing nominal power and institutional strength.
Practical authority came from below, representing the loyalty of subordinates and the people; bridging the gap between form and substance was necessary to rally everyone at a call.
To achieve results, one must be accountable to superiors.
To win hearts, one must be accountable to the people.
To wield real power, deliver genuine results, and gain popular support, one must dig deep to get first-hand information, prevent middlemen from profiting off information asymmetry, do tangible work, and ensure the people remember the magistrate’s benevolence.
Only then could power be firmly grasped.
In short,
There could be only one sun in Wuyuan County!
“Sir, take a look at this hairpiece—its ponytail is woven with fine silk from the Western Regions, so smooth even a fly would slip off. When you wear it, you’ll look like Pan An reborn! And feel the subtle silver embroidery…”
At the wig shop, the owner held up a bronze mirror before An Xin.
Many in the Great Yan suffered from hair loss; the shop offered various wigs for men and women, with different textures and styles.
An Xin initially wanted to pick a stylish one but ultimately chose the cheapest.
Wigs were hardly affordable luxury items for common folk; even the cheapest cost him ten taels of silver.
The shopkeeper styled it in a fashionable manner free of charge.
After leaving the wig shop, An Xin went to a tailor to buy a clean long robe. Gazing at his reflection, he sighed with feeling: “Things have changed; only my handsomeness remains.”
Shortly after stepping out, he heard several melodious calls:
“Dear guest~ come in and enjoy yourself~”
Looking up, An Xin saw a few scantily clad ladies on a balcony waving colorful handkerchiefs, sending him invitation gestures.
Below, a signboard hung above the entrance, inscribed with: Spring Breeze Pride Pavilion.