Chapter Seven: The Mohist Secret Technique

“Come, let me show you the splendor of Chang’an.” With a grand wave of his hand, Mo Dun led the caravan forward. In his memory, every time the county lord’s salary was collected, Mo Dun had to claim it himself, so he had visited Chang’an quite frequently and was well acquainted with the city.

“Young master! It seems we’re on the wrong road!” Li Yi stepped forward, interrupting Mo Dun’s confident stride.

“Our Mo Family Village’s shop is in the Fish Market in the southern part of the city, but you’re heading north!” Li Yi said.

A stifled laugh escaped from someone in the caravan.

“Nonsense! You think I don’t know?” Mo Dun rolled his eyes, clearly irritated.

“Then why—?” Li Yi asked, puzzled.

“Second Uncle, what are we selling in Chang’an this time?” Mo Dun asked.

“Fish!” Li Yi replied, eyes wide.

“No, live fish!” Li Xin interjected.

“Brat, you think I don’t know?” Li Yi treated Mo Dun with respect, but was blunt with Li Xin.

Li Yi glared, and Li Xin sheepishly retreated back into the caravan.

“Xin’s right! We’re selling live fish, but is there any difference between our live fish and those sold by others?” Mo Dun looked around and asked.

“There’s really no difference. The types of fish we sell are the same as those around Chang’an,” Li Yi said, frowning.

“No!” Mo Dun exclaimed loudly. “They’re the same, and yet they’re not.”

“Huh?” Everyone was bewildered. How could they be both the same and different?

“Of course they’re different. Our fish are transported from fifty miles away—not like those just caught from the river!” a young man from Mo Family Village said proudly.

Mo Dun pressed his forehead in silent exasperation. They were the same kind of fish, all alive, but Mo Family Village spent enormous manpower to transport them from fifty miles away, far more than others did. There was nothing particularly worth boasting about.

Of course, he couldn’t say that aloud, or it would dampen the villagers’ enthusiasm.

“That’s right! We’re selling fish raised with the secret techniques passed down in our Mo Family!” Yu Er said loudly.

“No, you’re mistaken. This isn’t my invention—it’s the thousand-year-old secret technique of the Mo Family!” Mo Dun spoke with the air of a mystic.

“Oh!” The crowd suddenly understood. No wonder the young master had become so capable—it was thanks to the ancestral secrets of the Mo Family.

Only Li Yi and a few older guards looked at Mo Dun with skepticism. They knew the Mo Family Village’s secrets far better than Mo Dun himself, and had never heard of any thousand-year-old technique.

“But we know it’s the Mo Family’s ancient secret, yet the people of Chang’an don’t. How will they recognize what’s special about our fish?” Mo Dun said.

“Young master, you mean—?” Li Yi asked, still confused.

“We must let all of Chang’an know how precious our Mo Family Village’s fish are. So I’ve decided that today, the caravan will circle the southern part of the city before heading to the Fish Market!” Mo Dun said triumphantly.

“Fu Bo!” Mo Dun called out, and Fu Bo immediately took out a pile of flagpoles and banners from the wagon, along with drums, gongs, trumpets, and pipes.

Weren’t these the items used for funerals in the village? Why were they suddenly brought out now?

Soon, every water cart was adorned with a flag and an instrument, and the entire caravan instantly became festive.

“Bang! Boom!” The sound of drums and gongs mingled with the music of pipes, and in a moment, every eye in the street was drawn to them.

“Uncle Yu, I’ll leave the rest to you!” Mo Dun turned to the fish master.

“Don’t worry, young master! I may have no other skills, but I know how to handle and sell fish.” The fish master said confidently.

He strode to the front of the caravan, snatched the bronze gong from Yu Er’s hand, and struck it forcefully.

“Mo Family’s thousand-year-old secret technique unveiled! Live fish that prolong life, fish that strengthen the body!” he shouted.

He paused, signaling the caravan to play drums and gongs.

Instantly, the caravan was filled with loud music and waving red flags. Together, they shouted, “Mo Family live fish, strengthen the body!”

“Live fish from Mo Family Village, fifty miles from Chang’an, not a single one dead!”

“Mo Family live fish, strengthen the body!”

The entire street fell silent in an instant, everyone staring in stunned disbelief at this unusual caravan.

The young men from Mo Family Village blushed with embarrassment, never having felt so humiliated before, as the whole street watched them.

“Mo Family?” A scholar in a blue robe murmured.

“What is the Mo Family? Is it some great clan?” A burly man with a fierce face asked.

“You don’t know? The Mo Family isn’t a great clan, but among the hundred schools of the pre-Qin era, it was the strongest,” a scholar boasted.

“So impressive!” The burly man exclaimed.

“Of course. The Mo Family was full of talent, and alongside the Confucians was regarded as one of the two great schools. It was said that in those days, you were either a Confucian or a Mohist,” the blue-robed scholar added.

“So what of the Mo Family? Now they’re reduced to selling fish to survive,” the scholar said with disdain.

“Sigh!” The blue-robed scholar sighed, lamenting how the once illustrious Mo Family had fallen. Since the Han dynasty, no famous figures had emerged from it.

“I know Mo Family Village,” a shop assistant cried out. “It’s right next to our village.”

“So it really is fifty miles away!” someone asked.

“That’s true. Our village is fifty-one miles from Chang’an, and Mo Family Village is three miles further south,” the assistant confirmed.

“But Mo Family Village is terribly poor. There’s a saying: ‘Don’t marry your daughter into Mo Family Village; better to abandon her by the riverbank.’ No family wants their daughter to suffer in Mo Family Village,” he said with contempt.

The crowd burst into laughter, looking down on the Mo Family villagers. A village so poor that no one would marry into it, now selling fish in Chang’an under the Mohist banner—what a disgrace.

The blue-robed scholar glanced at the assistant, his smile cold, as if he were looking at a frog at the bottom of a well.

Perhaps Mo Family Village was poor before, but if they could really deliver live fish from fifty miles away as they claimed, it wouldn’t be long before they became the wealthiest village nearby.

His understanding of Mo Family Village was deeper than most. What truly intrigued him was the young man at the head of the caravan, who remained calm and content despite all the pointing and whispering.