Although feudatory princes were bound by countless restrictions, once the Prince of Qin's estate—the foremost princely household of the realm—truly set its mind to something, the momentum it could unleash was still terrifying.
At Zhu Cunji's personal order, advertisements for the West Yan Railway's opening were plastered across every corner of Xi'an Prefecture.
Walls.
Street corners.
Market entrances.
Teahouse doors.
If there was a flat surface, there was an advertisement.
And the truly frightening thing was this—
Zhu Cunji's advertising methods were not crude.
They were, in fact… strangely refined.
This fellow had secretly absorbed an alarming amount of marketing knowledge simply by watching Gaojia News day after day. From Li Daoxuan's casual introductions of modern publicity concepts—brand exposure, repeated impressions, storytelling marketing—Zhu Cunji had unknowingly mastered a fair portion of the essence.
Even Li Daoxuan would have been mildly impressed… and a little alarmed.
After all, this was a prince who once thought "raising prices loudly" counted as business strategy.
Now?
Every alley in Xi'an had neatly written notices describing the comfort, speed, and divine nature of the train.
Storytellers were hired to sit in teahouses, clapping wooden boards as they spun tales of:
"A single day's journey, reduced to half an hour!
A divine carriage bestowed by Dao Xuan Tianzhun himself!"
In taverns and brothels, singing girls performed newly composed songs about iron dragons crossing rivers, their melodies catchy enough that even drunk patrons began humming them on the streets.
No city officials interfered.
Firstly, there were no city management officers to begin with.
Secondly, even if there were, none would dare provoke the Prince of Qin's estate.
Thus—
The effect was immediate.
Train tickets sold like wildfire.
The Cunji's first official commercial run departed fully loaded.
Every carriage was packed.
Passengers craned their necks, whispered excitedly, touched the walls, and stared at the steam pipes as though they were sacred relics.
By the time the train returned, Zhu Cunji had earned several hundred taels of silver in a single trip.
Several hundred taels.
In one day.
That night, Zhu Cunji hosted a grand celebratory banquet at the finest tavern in the heart of Xi'an City.
Wine flowed like a river.
The shareholder representatives—each sent by imperial relatives or noble houses—sat beaming with delight.
These people had no real political prospects. Their daily lives consisted of maintaining ancestral estates and finding ways to spend money pleasantly.
They had never expected that simply investing silver into a strange iron road would produce such staggering returns.
Zhu Cunji raised his wine cup, his face flushed with triumph.
"Hahahahaha! Hundreds of taels every single day!"
He swept his gaze over the hall, his voice booming with confidence.
"Gentlemen, at this rate, ten thousand taels a month is effortless! Profits will be divided strictly according to shares—everyone here will get rich together!"
The representatives' eyes shone.
Zhu Cunji continued, growing more animated with each sentence.
"This railway business—this is the future! Once we stabilize this line, we will invest further capital and build more railways! Xi'an to Yan'an! Xi'an to Tongguan! One iron road after another!"
"Your Highness is farsighted!"
"We shall follow Your Highness in all endeavors!"
"To prosperity!"
"To wealth!"
"Drink!"
Cups were raised—
Just then.
A steward hurried into the hall, his expression stiff and awkward, as though he had swallowed something unpleasant.
"Your Highness," he said cautiously, "something… something has gone wrong."
Zhu Cunji's eyelid twitched.
He waved his hand impatiently.
"What now? Can't you see we're celebrating? Whatever it is, say it later."
The steward hesitated, then forced himself to speak.
"This matter… concerns precisely what you are celebrating."
Silence fell.
Wine cups paused halfway to lips.
All eyes turned toward the steward.
Zhu Cunji frowned. "Speak."
The steward swallowed.
"Those who traveled to Sanyuan County today all reported the same thing."
"They said… the ride itself was extremely comfortable and novel."
"But after arriving in Sanyuan County, there was little to do."
"They strolled around the county town, ate a meal, and then returned."
"Very few expressed interest in going a second time."
The hall grew unnervingly quiet.
Zhu Cunji's face stiffened.
"…So?" he asked slowly.
The steward lowered his head.
"Ticket sales for the second day did not sell out."
"They dropped… by about thirty percent."
"What?!" Zhu Cunji shot to his feet.
"Thirty percent?!"
His voice cracked slightly.
"Thirty percent of several hundred taels—that's over a hundred taels gone in a single day!"
"Over a month, that's thousands of taels!"
At once, the shareholders panicked.
"That won't do!"
"This is unacceptable!"
"Your Highness, we must find a solution immediately!"
Zhu Cunji felt his stomach twist.
He paced back and forth, hands clenched behind his back.
"Sanyuan County…" he muttered. "It is just a small county."
"Truthfully speaking, there's nothing much to see."
"Could it be that this railway will only become truly profitable once it extends to Yan'an?"
"The traffic between Yan'an and Xi'an is substantial…"
The shareholders shook their heads.
"That line is over four hundred li!"
"Construction will take years!"
"We can't wait that long!"
"We must make the Xi'an–Sanyuan line profitable first!"
The celebratory banquet had completely lost its flavor.
Zhu Cunji suddenly stopped pacing.
"I know!" he declared.
He turned sharply toward the door.
"I will go ask Mr. Li!"
"He understands business!"
"He understands people!"
"His ability to make money is ten thousand times greater than mine!"
"I'll return with a solution!"
The shareholders immediately bowed.
"Then we entrust everything to Your Highness."
Zhu Cunji ran through the streets like his life depended on it, heading straight for the fertilizer shop in Xi'an Prefecture.
Mr. Li was a strange man.
When he first arrived in Xi'an, he chose to live in a fertilizer shop—and never left.
Despite the smell.
Despite the surroundings.
As though such worldly matters meant nothing to him.
By the time Zhu Cunji arrived, the shop had long since closed.
He pounded on the door.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
After a long while, the door creaked open.
Wang Tang, wearing a gray sleeping robe, peered out.
"Who is it? It's already late."
"Is Mr. Li inside?" Zhu Cunji blurted out.
"Oh, it's Your Highness," Wang Tang said politely. "Our master has already gone to sleep. I can try to wake him, but—"
Zhu Cunji stared. "How can someone not wake up if you shake them hard enough?"
Wang Tang sighed inwardly.
"Our master… once asleep, even thunder won't wake him."
Zhu Cunji was stunned.
"How can such a person exist?"
Wang Tang thought silently: Because he's Dao Xuan Tianzhun's avatar. And shaking him would be blasphemy.
Just as he was panicking—
A calm voice sounded from behind.
"I happen to be awake."
Wang Tang turned joyfully.
Li Daoxuan emerged, holding a birdcage.
Zhu Cunji seized Li Daoxuan's arm immediately.
"Mr. Li! Save me!"
"The railway's ticket sales dropped thirty percent on the second day!"
Li Daoxuan chuckled.
"Oh? That's all?"
Zhu Cunji froze. "All?"
Li Daoxuan smiled calmly.
"Isn't that inevitable?"
Zhu Cunji stared. "…You knew this would happen?"
"Sanyuan County is small," Li Daoxuan said casually. "No attractions. No regular traffic."
"Everyone rode once out of novelty."
"Why would they go again?"
"If you keep running it like this," he added mildly, "you'll eventually be pulling empty carriages."
Zhu Cunji's face turned pale.
"Empty… empty cars?!"
"Empty cars won't make money!"
From the birdcage, the mynah chirped cheerfully:
"What's the use of making money if you can't get it up anymore!"
Zhu Cunji's face went dark.
His patience… had reached its limit.