Liu Bian at the start, so you're called Dong Zhuo, right?

Liu Bian did not ask "who it is" or "where it is" again.

He simply closed the file, lightly tapping the cover with his fingertips, as if striking a bell.

"From today onwards," he said to Wang Ming, "we will prepare regulations for the reform of the housing system."

"Those who tread the path of peace—do not remember the 'good deeds,' only the 'path.'"

Wang Ming was taken aback: "The road?"

Liu Bian raised his eyes, his tone as flat as the back of a knife: "Which path do people take, which path do money take, which path do grain take, and which path do trust take?"

-

In the following months, everything got better and better.

At least, that's how it appears.

The signboard of Tongsheng Medical Hall stood tall in Luoyang, and the queue at the door stretched from dawn till sunset;

The keys to the granary were distributed to the villages one by one, and three books—the granary register, the vouchers, and the comparison book—were kept in parallel.

Who received it, how much they received, and when the verification will be conducted—everything is recorded without omission.

Ding'an Powder became a "government-prescribed medicine".

It wasn't bestowed by imperial decree, but rather through word of mouth among the people.

Hua Tuo disliked officialdom, but loved "effectiveness".

He sat in the clinic, as still as a nail—

If anyone dares to cheat under his nose, he won't scold them; he'll just grab their wrist, press their pulse with three fingers, and say something cold.

"You have something to hide, and your pulse will be erratic first."

Then pour the dregs of the medicine onto the table, and once the smell dissipates, the authenticity will be immediately apparent.

After several such incidents, the pharmacies in Luoyang learned their lesson: no one dared to touch the medicines from Tongsheng Medical Hall.

Liu Bian's heart calmed down a bit.

He carefully organized the files in the emergency preparation room, scroll by scroll, and then flipped through them one by one.

The "leader" of the Taiping Dao was not only in Jizhou.

It's like water; it flows where there's a wide passage, and it meanders around where there's a blockage.

In the countryside, there were "senior brothers" who distributed medicine; in the pavilion, there were "incense masters" who collected grain; outside the city, there were "wandering messengers" who delivered messages; and even in Luoyang, several hidden networks were uncovered:

A porter changed lodgings twice in three days; a certain incense shop was frequently visited at night; even a stall selling talismans was associated with a journey to "deliver a message to Jizhou".

When Wang Ming handed over the list, his palms were sweaty: "Your Highness, these people... are they really from the Way of Peace?"

Liu Bian did not answer immediately.

He simply ran his fingertips slowly across the paper, stopping when he reached a name—

Ma Yuanyi.

He circled the name twice, and only stopped writing on the third time.

"Whether they are from the Taiping Dao or not, we must keep a close eye on them."

"Keep an eye on his feet, his money, and where his 'food' comes from."

The most difficult thing for the Way of Peace has never been preaching.

It is offering.

Preaching relies on words, while sustenance relies on food. If food is cut off, the religion will crumble on its own.

So in the days that followed, several invisible ropes appeared in Luoyang.

The Tong Sheng Hui's business routes have begun "selecting people"—

The convoy selling soap, adhesive tape, and rock candy would check the "business register" of each shop they visited; anyone who had dealings with Tai Ping Road, had outstanding debts, or had strangers frequently coming and going at night would be blacklisted.

Grain shops, mills, and pharmacies also gained an unwritten rule:

If you want to get goods from the Tong Sheng Society, don't get involved in the "talisman water business".

If you touch it, the supply will be cut off.

Cutting off payments is not a form of punishment by the government, but it is faster and more ruthless than any other form of punishment.

Liu Bian, however, did not laugh.

He knew he was merely "mitigating" the situation, not "extinguishing the fire."

So he made a second layer.

He divided the Eastern Palace Guard into three groups—one that openly guarded the palace, another that secretly patrolled the neighborhoods, and the most secretive group that did only one thing: follow the people from the Bureau of Rebellion.

No arrests, no knives.

Just remember.

Record who entered the city on what day and when, who stopped at what place, who talked to whom, and what packages were exchanged between them.

Like weaving a net.

When the wind picks up, it will tighten quickly with a single pull.

Liu Bian even divided the application of "Ding'an Powder" into two lines:

One clear line: the clinic's free medical consultations are perfectly legitimate.

A hidden thread: traveling through escort agencies, merchant caravans, and temples, with a "short note on usage" tucked inside the medicine bag. The note contains very few words, but it is enough for the knowledgeable doctors in the village to follow the instructions.

He wanted the "medicine" to travel faster than the "talisman water".

We must also ensure that "saving lives" is delivered faster than "slogans".

All of these things piled up like layers of walls.

The higher the wall, the more confident Liu Bian felt.

He even had a momentary illusion—

He might actually be able to suppress the Yellow Turban Rebellion to the point where it "only emits smoke and does not burn the sky."

until that day.

-

It was a sunny day, and Liu Bian was conducting his usual inspections at the Tongsheng Association.

The streets of Luoyang were bustling with people, and as usual, there was a long queue outside Tongsheng Medical Clinic. Hua Tuo was brewing medicine in the back room, and the aroma of the medicine wafted out through the cracks in the door. Even the people in line said, "It smells so comforting."

Wang Ming stood behind Liu Bian, a rare hint of relaxation on his face: "Young Master, in Ji Province... the momentum of missionary work seems to have slowed down recently. There are also some disputes among the leaders, it seems—"

"Young master."

Something's happened.

When Xiahou Yuan entered, his face was colder than a knife. He didn't even have time to perform the proper etiquette, and his voice was strained.

Liu Bian looked up, his heart sinking: "Which place?"

Xiahou Yuan enunciated each word clearly: "Outside Tongsheng Medical Clinic... someone has collapsed."

"Not one."

"It's... one piece."

The air inside the hall seemed to have been sucked out instantly.

Liu Bian stood up and lifted his sleeve.

"Ding'an Powder?" he asked.

Xiahou Yuan nodded, his gaze growing even more serious: "They also have... medicine packets."

"It's not ours."

He placed a cloth bundle on the table; the edges of the bundle were covered in mud, as if it had just been snatched from the crowd. When the cloth was lifted, inside were several packets of coarse paper, but stamped with a seal that was all too familiar—

"Tong Sheng Medical Clinic".

Liu Bian's fingertips trembled slightly as they stopped on the mark.

In that instant, he understood.

The Yellow Turbans did not come to steal his medicine.

What the Yellow Turbans came to steal was—his claim to the medicine.

A second announcement came from outside the door, the voice even more urgent, as if being chased by a knife:

"Rumors are circulating that Tong Sheng Medical Clinic is administering 'deadly drugs'!"

"They say drinking Ding'an Powder...will cause you to be childless!"

Liu Bian's expression remained unchanged; he simply gripped the packet of fake medicine even tighter.

"Go and invite Yuanhua."

A moment later, Hua Tuo emerged from the back room, took a sniff of the medicine packet, and his eyes suddenly turned cold:

"This is not medicine."

"This is a dangerous knife."

He looked up at Liu Bian:

"Young master."

"Someone wants to use your name to kill your heart."

Liu Bian did not answer.

He simply put the fake medicine packet down slowly, then turned to look at Wang Ming:

"Wang Ming, order the preparation of a brothel."

"Reproduce the entire route we took to get into the city these past few days."

Wang Ming's face turned pale: "Young Master, you suspect..."

Liu Bian's voice was eerily flat:

"It's not a doubt."

"It's certain."

He looked up at the door; the sunlight shone brightly on the palace path.

But suddenly he felt that the light was like fire.

"They fought back."

-

At midnight, in Chengde Hall.

Wang Ming carried the last secret report into the hall, his fingers so stiff he could barely hold it.

He knelt down, his voice trembling:

"Your Highness... we've found out."

"The 'witnesses' making a scene today are not ordinary people."

"He is... a worker at the Donggong Free Clinic."

Liu Bian suddenly looked up.

Wang Ming lowered his head even further: "He was still collecting medicine, registering names, and issuing coupons yesterday... but he's gone tonight."

"Leaving behind only one... slogan."

Liu Bian's fingertips slowly pressed against the edge of the table:

"What slogan?"

Wang Ming's Adam's apple bobbed, as if he had swallowed a block of ice:

"Heaven……"

He only managed to say two words before he could say no more.

The candlelight inside the hall suddenly flickered, as if it had been violently fanned by the wind.

Liu Bian did not ask about the second half of the sentence.

Because he knew that once that second half of the sentence was spoken—

Luoyang is really about to ignite.