Starting with a Wei Wu soldier

As autumn faded into winter, and the first light snow quietly covered the newly built foundations of Xinghuo Fortress and the fields that had been left fallow, a vitality different from the chants of ramming earth and the shouts of soldiers training began to quietly stir in the streets and alleys of the fortress, especially in the gradually forming "market area" outside the city, like grass roots that refused to be idle under the frozen soil.

The promulgation and implementation of the "Spark Law (Trial Version)" was like applying an invisible layer of fertilizer to this newly cultivated social soil. Property rights were basically guaranteed, transactions were roughly regulated, and disputes had channels for resolution. Although the law was still somewhat crude and its implementation was inevitably awkward, the certainty it brought was like a rare ray of warm sunshine in winter, slowly melting away the fear and hesitation about ownership and exchange that had solidified in people's hearts due to the chaos of the times.

The initial seeds of this exchange came from the natural extension of the most primitive form of barter. Encouraged by the meritorious deeds of city building and land reclamation, many families, in addition to fulfilling their assigned tasks, would have some surplus. Skilled weavers would exchange their extra straw sandals and reed mats for small stools made by the neighbor's carpenter or earthenware pots fired by the potter; hunters would trade their smoked hare jerky for thick linen woven by peasant women; and craftsmen would exchange their tool-repairing skills for a few liters of freshly milled millet. These exchanges initially occurred casually and by chance among neighbors and acquaintances.

Gradually, some quick-thinking or truly talented individuals discovered that focusing on a particular production or craft, and then exchanging those products for more of what they needed, seemed more "cost-effective" than doing everything themselves. The carpenter from Dongtun, who was first rewarded for improving the spinning wheel, began using scrap wood and his spare time to create more exquisite and practical small items—wooden boxes with drawers, folding stools, and children's toy carts—in addition to completing his work for the crafts team. He took these items to areas with frequent traffic outside the city, where they were quickly traded for grain, cloth, or even a small piece of cured meat. This gave him a taste of success, and his mind became increasingly active; he even began to consider adjusting the designs according to people's preferences.

Near the intersection of the Murong tribe's camp and the road leading to Huiyu Fort, a relatively fixed trading point spontaneously formed at some point. Initially, only three or five people carrying goods would rest there, displaying their wares to see if anyone wanted to trade. Later, more people joined, and some built simple sunshades with branches and old cloth, displaying a few pieces of pottery or bundles of firewood—that was their "stall." Still later, some literate people who had injured their hands and feet during fortification or land reclamation, unable to do heavy physical labor, discovered a new opportunity. They squatted by the market, helping illiterate people read and write simple exchange contracts, or using counting rods to calculate complex barter ratios, charging a small "service fee" or exchanging it for some food. This can probably be considered the earliest prototype of the "service industry" in Xinghuo Fort.

Li Shu's household registration office keenly noticed this spontaneous gathering. After consulting with Chen Xing and Wu Xuejiu, they did not intervene harshly or attempt to "plan" it, but rather guided it accordingly. The office dispatched several clerks to regularly patrol the market, explaining the fair market regulations in the "Spark Law," mediating minor disputes, and beginning to register the more regular stallholders, issuing them small wooden plaques with numbers and their names, and symbolically collecting a very low "market management fee" to maintain basic cleanliness and order. This fee was negligible; its main purpose was to establish a concept of "official recognition" and management.

The intervention of registration and management, far from suppressing the market's vitality, actually gave traders a sense of security—meaning their transactions were protected to some extent by the rules, reducing the risk of harassment or forced buying and selling by thugs. As a result, the market's scope and popularity steadily expanded.

Some more "commercial" figures began to emerge. A middle-aged man, originally a traveling merchant who had lost his goods and companions in the war and ended up in Xinghuo Fortress, keenly spotted a business opportunity. He used his accumulated merit points to exchange for some cloth and salt, and also bought some unique, but impractical, handmade items from the fortress residents from the market. After sorting and classifying them, he laid them out on a large cloth on the ground, creating what resembled a small "general store." He not only accepted barter but also began to try using a more universal "medium"—grain. Because Xinghuo Fortress had a relatively abundant and stable supply of grain, especially potatoes and millet, many people were willing to accept a certain amount of grain as a price for other goods. This stall owner, who came from a traveling merchant background, often mentioned ratios like "one bushel of millet can be exchanged for three feet of cloth" and "five pounds of potatoes are worth one earthenware pot." Although his ratios might not have been entirely fair, they did simplify transactions. Some people began to jokingly call him the "Rice Manager."

Trade between the Murong tribe and the Han people became increasingly frequent. Murong herders brought cheese, dried meat, wool, and live sheep in exchange for grain, salt, iron tools, cloth, and pottery from the Han people. Initially, there was some estrangement, and transactions were mostly conducted in silence. However, as contact increased, especially after the Xinghuo Academy began enrolling Murong children, simple sounds of bargaining, a mixture of Chinese and Han languages, began to echo in the markets. One Murong elder even traded a flock of sheep for a more comfortable covered oxcart custom-made for him by craftsmen within the fortress, a cart more suitable for the elderly.

The natural growth of the economy also brought new problems and challenges. New complaints began to appear on Li Shu's desk: a stall owner was passing off moldy beans as good grain; two stall owners were arguing over a "prime spot"; the "rice shopkeeper" was reported for possibly using substandard containers when weighing grain; and even the first suspected "commercial fraud" dispute emerged—a woman traded her accumulated eggs for a piece of fabric that was claimed to be "superior lake silk," only to find out that it was a fake made of inferior linen dyed with dye.

These disputes were more trivial than previous cases involving land, property, and injury, but they also put the meticulousness and enforcement of the "Spark Law" to the test. Wu Xuejiu and Li Shu had to convene relevant personnel to provide a more specific interpretation of the provisions in the trial law regarding "fairness in market transactions" and "punishment for fraud," and to establish a simplified "market arbitration" mechanism. A temporary arbitration panel composed of clerks from the household registration office, representatives of market stall owners, and respected elders was formed to quickly resolve such disputes.

The case of exchanging eggs for fake cloth became the first typical commercial fraud case handled under the "Spark Law." After investigation, the arbitration panel ruled that the fraudster should return the equivalent value of the eggs and was punished by cleaning the market for three days as a form of reprimand. The stall owner's sign also received a demerit. The ruling was announced publicly in the market, attracting a large crowd. This was a significant humiliation and substantial punishment for the fraudster, and also served as a warning to other those who might try to take advantage. The deceived woman received her compensation and was deeply grateful for the fairness of the law.

Chen Xing would occasionally patrol the market in plain clothes. He watched with great interest the simple yet vibrant stalls, listened to the somewhat clumsy haggling, and observed the expressions on people's faces—the earnest calculations over a liter of rice or a piece of cloth, yet the occasional satisfied smiles after a deal was made. This expression was different from the resolute determination on the battlefield, the arduous toil in the fields, or the focused thirst for knowledge in the classroom; it was more worldly, more mundane, yet full of the warmth and vibrancy of real life.

"The economy is sprouting." He whispered to Wu Xuejiu, who was accompanying him, "You see, people are starting to work not just to survive, but also to exchange and calculate in order to live a better life. This is a product of trust, trust that our rules can protect their hard-earned money, and trust that the future will not be uncertain."

Wu Xuejiu sighed, "Indeed, when the granaries are full, people know etiquette; when they are well-fed and clothed, they know honor and shame. Now, we even have the resources to exchange what we have for what we lack. Though this is a small matter, it shows the vitality of our fortress. It's just that the market is in turmoil..."

"Conflicts are a good thing," Chen Xing smiled slightly. "It means that the relationships of interest are becoming more complex, and more refined rules are needed to regulate them. The law is constantly being improved and developed in the process of resolving these conflicts. Let Li Shu and the others handle these matters well, accumulate case studies, and these will be valuable evidence when revising the law in the future."

He stopped at a stall selling children's wooden toys, picked up a simple but clearly carefully carved little wooden horse, and exchanged it for a few newly minted, rough but standard-weight "Xinghuo Tongbao" coins. "When the economy is thriving, the demand for currency will naturally arise. But there's no rush; let it grow naturally. We only need to ensure basic fairness and the accuracy of weights and measures."

The post-snow sunshine shone on the bustling market, melting the icicles clinging to the roof tiles. The air was thick with the smells of livestock, the aroma of food, and the white mist from people's breath. The sounds of bargaining, children's laughter, and the clanging of tools mingled together. Here, there were no grand plans, only the most basic wisdom of survival and exchange quietly blossoming.

The economy of Xinghuo Fortress, like the first tuft of green grass sprouting from a crack in the rock, though fragile, foreshadows a broader and more complex ecosystem gestating beneath the frozen ground. It infuses this fortress of chaos with another kind of vitality—not just the resilience to survive, but also the desire for development and the warmth of life. And all of this is built upon a nascent legal framework and a relatively stable order, just as a seedling cannot exist without soil.

Chen Xing knew that it was still far from a true market economy, but this budding green shoot had already shown him the possibility of building a virtuous cycle and sustainable social ecosystem amidst the bloodshed and chaos. This was perhaps more gratifying and hopeful than a simple military victory. Of course, he also knew that this tender sprout needed a stronger "wall" to withstand the coming winter storm before it could have a chance to usher in its own spring.