The moment Flat Rabbit laid eyes on the Xilankapu, something inside his chest rose like steam from freshly cooked rice, warm and unstoppable, because even though he had been sent here on official duty under the will of Dao Xuan Tianzun to investigate the cultural specialties of the Tujia people and open pathways for exchange between mountain and plain, between Ba and Han, he had not expected beauty to ambush him so directly in the hands of an ordinary village girl.
He reached out and took the patterned coverlet carefully, almost ceremonially, as though he feared rough handling might insult the spirit woven into it.
"Little sister," he said with an easy grin, "this Xilankapu is truly excellent. The thread feels coarse. Is it linen? The stitches are wide, but steady."
The young woman nodded, a little shy but not timid. "Cotton thread costs too much. We cannot afford it. So we use coarse linen."
Flat Rabbit ran his fingers across the surface again, studying the geometry of its patterns, the rhythm of its colors, the stubborn sincerity of its craftsmanship. What struck him was not refinement in the Han sense, but character. The fabric did not try to flatter the eye. It simply declared what it was.
"Even with coarse linen," he said slowly, searching for words he did not quite possess, "it is exquisite. The thickness gives it strength. The wide stitching gives it… presence. I do not know how to describe it properly. But it is beautiful. Truly beautiful."
Such was the curse of the unlettered man who could feel beauty with precision yet lacked the language to dissect it. He stood there for a while, staring at the cloth as though it might explain itself to him.
After a brief silence, he lifted his head.
"Seeing this," he said, "I suddenly thought of a business opportunity."
Ran Ke blinked. "Business? What business?"
"We trade grain and celestial fertilizer for your Xilankapu."
The air seemed to pause.
Ran Ke stared at him as though he had just suggested exchanging gold for pebbles from the riverbed, and the surrounding Tujia girls were no less stunned. Xilankapu was beautiful to them, yes, but it was also undeniably rustic, woven from coarse linen, bearing patterns inherited from ancestors who cared more for symbolism than for fashionable elegance. The Han people, with their obsession for delicacy and polished refinement, rarely valued such earthy craftsmanship.
This was why Xilankapu was woven mostly for their own beds, earning its quiet nickname as the Tujia rustic coverlet.
To trade grain for it felt almost absurd.
Flat Rabbit did not seem bothered by their silence.
"Besides this," he continued, "what other specialties do you have?"
An elder quickly stepped forward before Ran Ke could answer, clearly unwilling to let this opportunity slip away.
"We have water bamboo mats," he said eagerly. "Woven from water bamboo. Cool as mountain shade. Perfect for sleeping in summer."
Flat Rabbit's eyes brightened.
"That is excellent. The north is suffering severe drought. Summer heat there is merciless. Your mats will be cherished. We will trade for those as well."
Excitement began to ripple through the crowd.
"We also make fragrant silk fans," another voice added. "From phoenix-tail bamboo grown in mountain streams, combined with fine silk. Seventy-two traditional steps. Carving, drilling, scraping, bleaching, sizing. Then hand-painted and inscribed. Even gentry in the capital admire them. But silk must come from Jiangnan, and because of the wars, merchants no longer bring it. We cannot produce them now."
Flat Rabbit laughed softly, as though the problem were no more troublesome than a misplaced coin.
"That is simple. We have connections in Jiangnan. Transporting silk here is a minor task. We sell the silk to you. You craft the fans. Then we purchase them back and sell them to wealthy gentry elsewhere. Everyone profits."
The joy that followed was unrestrained and genuine, the kind that spreads quickly through a mountain village where opportunity rarely knocks twice.
Ran Ke felt the warmth of it too. If the entire village prospered, then as Kaixian Pacification Commissioner and mountain chieftain, his own position would only grow stronger.
"Lord Rabbit," he said sincerely, "I am deeply grateful."
Flat Rabbit waved his hand.
"A small matter."
Then his expression shifted, subtle but deliberate.
"However," he continued, "bandits run rampant across Sichuan. They hide in these mountains. If caravans must pass through valleys and ridges to reach your village, what happens if they are ambushed? What if grain and silk are stolen before they arrive? What then?"
The celebration cooled instantly.
Ran Ke's face darkened.
Until now, he had preferred distance. Let chaos burn outside as long as it did not scorch his own doorstep. But trade required roads. Roads required security. Prosperity required order.
If the bandits remained, commerce would choke.
If commerce choked, the Ba people would remain trapped in poverty among their own mountains.
The logic was brutal and clear.
Ran Ke straightened.
"Lord Rabbit," he said gravely, "if we are to speak of the future, then we must act for it. As Kaixian Pacification Commissioner, I will issue a general mobilization order. All nearby mountain villages will rise. We will drive the bandits from these mountains."
In the past, he had hesitated. That hesitation had nearly cost Kaixian County its walls.
But once he committed fully, the situation would be different. These mountains were not merely geography. They were inheritance.
Soon, the mobilization order spread across the Ba Mountains.
Village after village answered.
"Drive out the bandits!"
"We want to do business!"
"We want to earn silver!"
"We want to prosper!"
Deep within the Ba Mountains Grand Canyon, a defeated bandit army hid inside a small cave, licking wounds from their earlier clash with Flat Rabbit's forces. They had fled here believing rugged terrain to be their shield.
Their chief snorted.
"That strange arquebus unit may be strong," he said, "but they cannot fight in the mountains."
Another bandit laughed.
"Exactly. Guns are useless in ravines. Once we close the distance, we stab them."
The chief grinned broadly.
"As long as we stay in the mountains, they cannot touch us. We strike when we wish. We retreat when we wish. We are invincible here."
"We are not afraid!"
One bandit shouted loudly, attempting to harden his own courage.
The answer came not from his comrades but from the forest.
An arrow flew from behind a distant tree and struck cleanly into his throat. The sound was short and wet. He clutched the shaft, eyes wide, and collapsed without finishing his breath.
"Enemy attack!"
Weapons were seized in panic.
Only then did they realize they were surrounded.
A large group of dark-skinned young men stood among the trees, dressed without uniformity, straw sandals on their feet, clothing practical and mismatched. Yet they shared one common feature, long wooden-shafted spears gripped with steady hands.
They resembled White Pole Soldiers at first glance, but a closer look revealed the difference. Their spear shafts were not white.
At their front stood Ran Ke, clad in lamellar armor, posture steady as stone.
"I am Ran Ke, Kaixian Pacification Commissioner," he declared. "You believe you are safe because you ran into the mountains? These are the Ba Mountains. Our ancestors were the Ba people. We have lived here for thousands of years. You think you can hide from us in our own home? You are too green."
The bandit chief scowled.
"The mountain I crossed yesterday was also called Ba Mountain. Can you people not invent better names?"
Ran Ke's eyes hardened.
"Kill."
The Tujia soldiers surged forward, wooden-shafted spears thrusting as one, and the mountains that had once sheltered the bandits now echoed with the sound of a people reclaiming their ground.