181: Chapter 182 Were some ill-intentioned people mixed in?

Someone lowered their voice and spoke.

"Do you think... they'll really give us this equipment?"

"We've already come this far, and you're still asking that?"

"I just feel..."

The person stopped halfway through the sentence.

Feel what?

Felt too good to be true.

Felt like a dream.

Felt like at any moment, someone might jump out and say that everything just said was just to toy with them.

But that didn't happen.

The Professional from Flower City in charge of verification up front glanced at them.

"Line up."

"One by one."

His tone wasn't particularly friendly, but it wasn't harsh either.

Just a bit busy, a bit rushed.

This actually made those new Professionals feel even more unsettled.

Because the busier it was, the more real it seemed.

The first person stepped forward, and as soon as he released his Qi, the person in charge of verification casually checked off a line in the register.

"Black Iron Three-Star, Archer."

"Go to the right and collect your Crimson Archer Set."

The man didn't move.

"Why aren't you going?"

"I... I don't have money."

The verifier finally looked up at him and smiled.

"Who asked you for money?"

"Initial supplies for new Flower City residents are free."

"Next."

The man was stunned by this statement for a long time, only stumbling toward the right after the person behind him pushed him.

After a few steps, he stopped again, looking down at his dust-covered hands.

His hands were shaking.

Shaking quite unpleasantly.

He quickly clenched his hands, as if afraid of being seen.

The crowd moved forward.

Nuan Nuan was leading a few people in distributing Spirit Rice and key plates.

She had originally worried that once the first batch of people arrived, the scene would become chaotic.

But once she actually got busy, she didn't have time to think about that.

"East Third Lane, Tree House District number seven, family of four."

"New land deeds by the southern canal, collect them by household."

"Don't cry yet, hold the number plate steady... Yes, that's the one."

"Child has a fever? Go to the right, there are clerics providing treatment there."

She spoke quickly and moved quickly, her skirt hem almost brushing against the rice bags on the ground.

But with every wooden plate and portion of Spirit Rice she distributed, the initial tightness in her heart gradually eased.

She could handle it.

At least for these five thousand people right now, she could handle it.

This was also the first time she had truly stood on her own since taking office.

Shang Youjun stood further away.

He didn't step forward to help, nor did he stand in the busiest part of the crowd.

He just stood quietly by a slightly raised stone step, his gaze scanning the crowd inch by inch.

His left eye was azure, his right eye crimson.

In the sunlight, they weren't glaring; instead, because of how quiet he was, they appeared somewhat profound.

There were many people.

Those crying, those stunned, those dazed, those lowering their heads to protect rice bags, those holding their children tightly, those who had just had their ankle shackles removed and didn't dare take large steps... A glance across the crowd revealed emotions as mixed as spilled paint.

Most were chaotic, fearful, and dusty.

But chaos did not equal evil.

Fear did not equal wrong.

He watched for a while, his gaze suddenly stopping at a spot near the back.

Three men were standing there.

They looked no different from the others—clothes torn, faces gray, carrying simple bundles.

But when they looked up at the notice, their reactions were wrong.

Others were stunned, panicked, or disbelieving.

These three, however, looked around first.

Looking at people, checking the path, observing the positions of the guards, checking which side had fewer people and which side was more convenient for entry and exit.

Shang Youjun's gaze paused slightly.

The next moment, one of them seemed to sense something and suddenly looked up, scanning toward his direction.

Shang Youjun didn't move.

He just stood there quietly, as if observing the order at the entire city gate, not staring at anyone in particular, and showing no signs of anything unusual.

That person only took one look before lowering his head again.

Only then did Shang Youjun slowly withdraw his gaze.

Footsteps approached from behind.

A minor official from the Supervision Department lowered his voice and asked him.

"Lord Shang, what are you looking at?"

Shang Youjun was silent for two breaths before speaking softly.

"The third row, counting from the end, the seventh, ninth, and eleventh."

The official subconsciously followed the count, and halfway through, his movements stiffened.

"Do they have a problem?"

Shang Youjun neither nodded nor shook his head.

"Record them for now."

"Have someone keep an eye on them."

The official was stunned for a moment, then replied.

"Yes."

Just as he was about to retreat, he heard Shang Youjun add another sentence.

"Don't let them notice."

"Understood."

After the official left, Shang Youjun remained standing there.

The wind blew over, gently lifting a lock of hair on his forehead.

He raised his hand to press it down, his gaze falling back into the crowd.

The three men didn't look ugly.

What was ugly was what was inside their hearts.

It wasn't hatred, nor was it resentment.

It was calculation.

Like holding a thin needle, looking everywhere for a place to poke into Flower City.

Shang Youjun saw it very clearly.

But he didn't go over to drag them out.

Having a problem did not equal being guilty.

The Eye of True Sight allowed him to see what people hid in their hearts, but it could not allow him to bypass the rules for Flower City or convict anyone.

He remembered this line very firmly.

By the afternoon, the first batch of people entering the city had mostly been dispersed.

The crying gradually decreased, replaced by waves of lower, more fragmented voices.

"Is that tree house really ours?"

"They said we can live there first, and later we'll be allocated land..."

"Did you see? The water flows out from the wooden wall."

"I've never seen such a bright house in my life."

"Keep your voice down, don't let others hear you, it makes it look like you've never seen the world."

"...I haven't, actually."

When this was said, the people nearby went quiet for a moment, and then someone laughed softly.

It wasn't mockery.

It was that dry laugh after suppressing something for too long, finally letting out a breath.

After laughing, their eyes turned red.

On the other side, several people accompanying the group from The Four Cities had quietly retreated to a small path outside the city gate.

One of them looked back, confirmed there was no one around, and then lowered his voice.

"The first batch, it's done."

"Flower City didn't stop them, and they gave them all the benefits."

"If the people in the city ask, report it truthfully."

The person next to him nodded, the uneasiness that had been suppressed in his eyes finally being replaced by a brighter emotion.

"Report it truthfully."

"Just say that Flower City accepted them readily, and gave them everything readily."

"They aren't putting on an act; they really do nurture people like this."

The first person to speak twitched the corner of his mouth.

"That's good."

"The more genuine they are, the less we have to worry."

He said this, but the breath in his heart still felt a bit unsteady.

Because before he came, he thought he would see a chaotic joke.

But upon arriving here, the feeling Flower City gave him wasn't chaos.

Just busy.

Busy to the point of not touching the ground, busy with people coming and going, busy with the Tiangong Department head running around covered in dust and swearing, busy with the people distributing rice panting while keeping accounts.

But the busier it was, the more that set of rules became apparent.

Like a net that had long been woven, now just scooping up another batch of people.

He didn't like this feeling.

But not liking it couldn't stop the other voice in his heart saying: It doesn't matter.

Flower City can handle it now, but that doesn't mean it can handle it forever.

Keep sending them.

The more you send, the sooner it will burst one day.

Thinking of this, he suppressed that inexplicable discomfort and walked away.

"Go back and report."

By evening, The Four Cities received the news almost one after another.

Qinghe City was first.

In the Internal Affairs Hall, before the report letter had even finished being read, the person sitting at the head smiled.

"They really gave it?"

"Yes."

"The metal rings were removed?"

"Removed."

"The Professional sets were also issued?"

"Issued."

"Heh..."

The laugh rolled out from his throat, short, yet unable to suppress the scorching pleasure within it.

"It really thinks of itself as a savior."

The person below hesitated for a moment, then added in a low voice.

"However, Flower City doesn't look panicked, and things are being handled very smoothly."

The person at the head heard this and lifted his eyelids slightly.

"Smooth?"

"No matter how smooth, it's still five thousand people."

"Five thousand today, ten thousand tomorrow, twenty thousand the day after. I want to see how long it can stay smooth."

After speaking, he tapped his fingers on the desktop.

"Draft another document."

"In addition, pass the news to Liefeng, Nanchang, and Maple Leaf. Qinghe has opened the door; it would be strange if they weren't anxious."

As expected.

Early the next morning, before the doors of the Flower City Government Hall were fully open, three new documents were already on the desk.

Different paper, different handwriting, but the words seemed to be poured from the same mold.

It was nothing more than the same set of lines: the common people are voluntary, yearning for Flower City, trade exchanges, hoping for convenience.

Wan'er raised her hand and pressed the three documents together, her fingertips gently gathering them, and the pages aligned.

She watched for a while, then suddenly smiled.

The smile was very shallow, as shallow as a breeze passing over the surface of water.

The official next to her saw her smile, his heart skipped a beat for no reason, and he asked in a low voice:

"Lord Wan'er, how should we... reply?"

Wan'er didn't answer immediately.

She just took the three documents in her hand and turned to walk out.

"Go to the City Lord's Mansion."

"This time, it's their turn to scramble to send people into Flower City."

After the first batch of people entered the city, Flower City did indeed become busy.

On the streets that were originally orderly, there were many unfamiliar faces.

In the Tree House District, people were going in and out all day—carrying bed boards, carrying wooden basins, holding children and unable to find their way, gathering around the notice boards to read them a second or third time.

The voices rose and fell, and by evening, it still hadn't completely quieted down.

But chaotic as it was, the reaction of the Flower City locals was not as sharp as The Four Cities had expected.

Many of them had crawled out of the refugee piles themselves.

People who have been rained on will instinctively offer an umbrella when they see others standing outside their door soaked to the bone.

The aunt selling bean cakes at the street corner was complaining, saying that these newcomers didn't watch where they were walking and almost knocked over her stall, while simultaneously picking up two cakes that had fallen on the ground, patting off the dust, and stuffing them to two children who were staring longingly nearby.

"Take it."

"Don't stand here watching, go eat on the side."

At the fabric shop, a young woman was standing at the door holding fabric.

Originally, she was upset that the fabric she had just hung out to dry had been soiled by someone, but seeing the other person's face turn pale with panic, she stopped halfway through her scolding and changed it to "Watch the road next time."

Others simply moved the small wooden stool from their doorstep out to let those waiting for placement plates sit for a while.

Of course, not everyone could be so relaxed.

Some people didn't say it out loud, but they were still drumming in their hearts.

"With so many coming in at once, can they really handle it?"

"What's the problem? Last time tens of thousands came in, wasn't it arranged properly?"

"This time is different..."

"How is it different? Aren't they all people?"

"It's different! The ones coming this time aren't true refugees! I'm afraid..."

"Hey! Stop worrying blindly. Since the City Lord has opened the gates, he must have his reasons!"

"Of course the City Lord has his reasons, but what if, what if some ill-intentioned ones are mixed in?"

"What if they are mixed in? Isn't the Supervision Department watching?"

These kinds of words weren't loud, mostly pressed under eaves or at alley entrances, voices low.

After speaking, when they looked up and saw a newcomer passing by, they would immediately shut their mouths.

The people of Flower City were not Saints.

They were willing to give people a way to live, but that didn't mean they didn't have a scale in their hearts.

And those troublemakers who had been stuffed in quickly noticed this too.

The people of Flower City were not xenophobic.

But they were not stupid.

Since that was the case, they had to start with the soft, light, and small places.

So, early on the third morning, the first trouble emerged.

The place where the incident happened was a small vegetable stall at the East Street intersection.

The stall owner's surname was Xu, an elderly man.

He didn't like to talk much, but his stall was the neatest; the green vegetables were bundled neatly, the long spirit eggplants were polished until they shone, and even the most inconspicuous little white leaves were stacked neatly.

Early this morning, just as he had laid out the vegetables, three new men squeezed to the front.

"How much for this?"

"And this one?"

"And this too."

Old Xu looked up at them.

They were all new faces.

He quoted the price and reached out to take the vegetables.

Who knew that the man in front suddenly tripped, his arm slamming forward.

"Crash!"

The wooden rack tilted, and the bundles of vegetables he had just arranged fell all over the ground.

Green leaves rolled everywhere, and a basket of freshly picked long spirit eggplants nearby also overturned, rolling into the middle of the street.

Old Xu subconsciously went to steady the rack, and before his hand even touched it, the second person stepped on it.

"Oops, sorry."

The man said sorry, but his foot ground down twice, directly crushing a bundle of green vegetables into mud.

People around immediately stopped.

"How are you walking?"

"Can't you see the stall?"

"You stepped on his vegetables!"

"Was it on purpose or accidental?"

"Hmph, I think it was on purpose!"

The three men acted as if they hadn't heard, still laughing and joking, mouths saying sorry, but their movements becoming increasingly exaggerated.

The third person was even more straightforward, reaching out to pick up two long spirit eggplants, weighing them, and grinning.

"This? It's worth this price?"

Old Xu's expression sank.

"Put it down."

The man wouldn't, instead tossing them up twice.

"What kind of attitude is that? Bullying me because I'm new?"

As soon as these words were out, the expressions of several Flower City residents nearby changed.

Some wanted to step forward but were held back by their companions.

"Don't move yet."

"Go call the guards."

"We'll watch here, don't let things escalate."

Old Xu, however, did not argue; he just bent down to pick up the vegetables.

He was old, and when his back bent, his movements were very slow.

The few crushed vegetable leaves were stuck to the ground; he tried to scrape them up twice, but couldn't.