Universality and Particularity (Part One)

No matter how furiously the billions of people on Earth roared and bellowed, the natives of the medieval world could not hear them.

Vicar Playa was very pleased with this outcome. In his mind, Wu Qingchen’s role had already elevated from the “one” in a “three plus one” arrangement to a bomb capable of seizing the initiative.

When the plow oxen were collectively injured, this vicar remained calm in crisis, devoted himself to the study of medical texts, sent students to gather herbs, and personally intervened multiple times to save the cattle, turning the tide and ensuring the orderly progress of the summer corvée. This laid a solid foundation for the collection of the autumn tithe.

With such a radiant achievement in hand, who would dare, at the next parish inspection in a few months, to criticize the work in Eclie village? Who would have the nerve to let the distinguished Playa remain a mere “acting” vicar, bearing such a shame?

Of course, not all of the injured oxen had been treated yet, and much meticulous work remained. To make this achievement even more solid and secure, Playa spared no expense, using up several precious sheepskin scrolls and spending years’ worth of painstakingly accumulated favors, even wearing out the legs of the messenger. Finally, he secured for Ross/Moore a title better suited for treating plow oxen, making this accomplishment even more natural, and at the same time obtained a location more appropriate for treating the animals.

The Freeman, Richard, and Holset families, who had accompanied Wu Qingchen, were also overjoyed. Cowherd! This was a cowherd’s post! Who in the village didn’t envy this enviable job, or know how well-off the cowherd’s family was?

Not to mention the cowherd’s own family—even their neighbors and distant relatives, whenever they shared a meal, always had a bowl brimming with thick porridge. In the busiest seasons, the bowls would even mound above the rim! Life was practically the paradise the priest always spoke of.

Ross/Moore had grown up under their eyes. They knew the boy well—sensible, just! As long as the master and his own family were fed—well, as long as the manure was spread and there was spare time—he would surely be willing to take the village’s dozens of calves to graze at their fields for a few days, letting them drop extra dung and urine. With this unexpected fertilizer, their next year’s harvest would be all the more secure.

From this day forward, from this moment, they were the cowherd’s neighbors!

For decades, for generations to come!

But among all the villagers present, the one most shaken was William/Moore, whose face remained flushed, still lost in a dream.

How could he not suspect he was dreaming? Cowherd! A hereditary post!

A family of cowherds!

Years of toil in the fields had long ground away all hope and ambition. In ordinary days, William/Moore’s greatest wish was merely to pray for the lord’s mercy, for smooth labor, for the Almighty’s favor—just to snatch a few free days for his own work.

He had never expected his family to suddenly leap up a rank and become one of the skilled, coveted families in Eclie village!

He had never dared dream of moving from their damp, mushroom-infested hovel into the decent residence of a cowherd!

Now, happiness he had never even dreamed of descended from the heavens. Overwhelmed with double joy, William/Moore clenched and unclenched his fists again and again, unsure how to stand, what to say, how to shout or howl to fully vent the excitement in his chest!

With so many eyes filled with satisfaction, longing, and disbelief upon him, did Wu Qingchen have any room for choice?

Refusal was impossible. Beyond the wishes of both upper and lower lords, and the hopes of his daily companions and neighbors, in this resource-starved medieval world, a little recollection of the countless Earth strategists and their painstaking schemes for this world sufficed to show that these very buildings before him were doubtless a rare and precious resource in their eyes.

Even thinking with his toes, even using the dim wits of the medieval world’s people, Wu Qingchen would never move straight into the former cowherd’s house—this place was simply too filthy and foul.

The sudden turn of events left Wu Qingchen with many details to confirm or resolve.

Looking up timidly at Ifrit, Wu Qingchen’s expression was hesitant: “Master, I’ve only ever cared for a few chickens and one cow. The village has dozens of cattle, so many… I… I can’t manage them alone.”

“No worries…” Steward Ifrit’s face was all knowing confidence. “We told the lord about this. The master will send two experienced cowherds from other villages to help. For now, you only need to heal the rest of the injured cattle—the daily care and the summer labor will be handled by others.”

“But…” Wu Qingchen glanced at the former cowherd’s house, far larger than “his own” home. “This place is so big, I can’t live here alone or keep an eye on everything…”

“It’s fine. When the other cowherds arrive, they can stay here too. Your family can move in as well,” Ifrit encouraged with a smile. William, Jacqueline, Idra, and Grace all nodded vigorously in agreement.

“But…” Wu Qingchen hesitated, unable to get the words out at first.

“But what? What is it now?” After waiting in vain for a reply, Playa grew impatient and stepped beside Wu Qingchen.

“But… there are so many people in the cowherd’s family. If I move in… If I move in, I’m afraid they…” Remembering the miserable crowding of people and livestock during the downpour, Wu Qingchen seized the moment to drive another nail into the former cowherd’s back.

“Hmph…” Concerned for his own achievement, the priest’s expression turned icy cold. “You needn’t worry. As long as I am here, as long as Ifrit is here…” The priest turned to the steward, who nodded vigorously in support. “The Rodriguez family’s rabble will not be allowed to leave the serf’s land. If anyone gives you trouble, come to the church. I’ll show them the wrath of the Almighty!”

“Then…” Wu Qingchen pointed to the house. “So I can move in now? All this belongs to me?”

“Haha, what are you thinking?” Playa laughed. “Rodriguez ruined dozens of oxen, and the chickens and sheep he carted away can’t even pay half the debt. There’s still a lot of stuff inside to move out—otherwise, why do you think you were called here?”

“All right, enough gawking…” Ifrit turned to the crowd. “William, Freeman, Richard, Holset—your families go in. Beds and clothes can stay, but barley, peas, cabbages, tools, fodder—everything else, move it out! The more you compensate the baron, the better. What a stroke of misfortune!”

A house search! The fattest of all assignments!

William, Freeman, Richard, and Holset’s families scrambled into the former cowherd’s residence. Amid the wailing and curses of billions on Earth, Wu Qingchen bowed deeply, saluting the steward and the priest:

“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!”

——————

In critical moments, military resources far surpassed those available to civilians, and were used much more efficiently as well. While the emergency broadcast on the civil network was just reaching the scene of Wu Qingchen bowing in gratitude, the same video was already ending in the second basement level of a certain permanent triple-defense facility, behind a dark red, massive desk.

In the freeze-frame, the “house-search squad” had already packed up most of the cowherd’s household goods. William, Freeman, Richard, Holset—every member of all four families was loaded down, their faces beaming with joy.

We’ve overreached ourselves this time.

The old man watching the video wore a bitter smile as well.

He removed his glasses with a trembling left hand, revealing bloodshot eyes from several sleepless nights. His right hand raked through greasy, unwashed, graying hair.

Knock, knock, knock…

After three knocks, the door opened, revealing the plaque: “Special Committee for Celestial Event Information, Temporary Public Opinion Guidance Office.”

“Director…” Seven or eight military officers filed in. The officer furthest to the left placed several pages of documents on the dark red desk. “Comrade, we believe Plan 373-12-3 best fits the current situation. Please review it.”

“37…” The director’s mouth twitched. From the two-digit number starting with “3,” it was clear how low the priority of this plan really was.