Since the original market lacked planning and was too small, Duan Jin selected several sites based on maps and conducted on-site inspections. Ultimately, he settled on a moderately sized area close to the original market.

After the new open space was paved with cement, it appeared spacious and wide. Duan Jin had the area divided into neat stalls, marked off with lines, and covered with canopies. He also organized the area into zones based on different types of goods, such as a produce section, a meat section, a grains and oils section, and a general goods section. 

Most importantly—the stalls were free.

Duan Jin made it very clear in the notice: No stall fees will be charged to vendors setting up stalls at the market. However, they must abide by the following rules: First, stalls must remain within the designated lines and must not encroach on neighboring spaces; second, vendors must keep the area around their stalls clean and take their trash with them when packing up; third, vendors must not sell counterfeit, substandard, spoiled, or expired goods; fourth, they must not engage in coercive sales or monopolize the market. Violation of any of these rules will result in a warning on the first offense, a fine of one tael on the second offense, and permanent revocation of the right to set up a stall on the third offense.

The day after the notice was posted, the entire county was abuzz.

On the day the market opened, even before dawn, vendors began arriving from all directions, pushing handcarts and carrying goods on shoulder poles.

Duan Jin had arranged in advance for several constables to maintain order at the market. Led by Liu Cheng, each constable wore a bamboo paddle strapped to his waist, giving them a very imposing appearance.

“Move your vegetables a little to the left—you’re over the line!”

“You there, selling tofu—your stall is in Row 3, Number 4. Don’t go to the wrong spot!” The scene became somewhat chaotic for a moment.

The vendors were used to simply setting up wherever they could find a spot; suddenly having to take their assigned spots and be grouped by section was unfamiliar to many.

Some people couldn’t find their stalls, some thought their spots were bad and wanted to swap with others, and still others just tossed their trash on the ground.

Liu Cheng was so busy he was drenched in sweat, and his voice was hoarse from shouting.

Duan Jin personally manned the market entrance, explaining the rules while helping unfamiliar visitors find their way.

An elderly woman selling green beans and greens couldn’t find her stall and was pacing back and forth in frustration. Duan Jin took her shoulder pole, led her to the produce section, and pointed to a numbered frame marked “Row 3, No. 7,” saying, “Ma’am, set up your stall right there. That’s your spot. Every time you come here from now on, it’ll be right there—no need to fight for it.”

The old woman looked around and noticed that every stall was marked with a frame, all neat and orderly. She would no longer have to come before dawn to stake out a spot or argue with others over territory like she used to.

She crouched down and arranged her greens neatly. The wrinkles on her face gradually smoothed out, revealing a toothless smile: “Magistrate Duan, this is good—this is really good.”

Gradually, the market came to life.

As the people came to sell their wares, their first reaction was—the road had become smooth.

Gone was the bumpy, rutted dirt road; in its place was a gray-blue surface that looked like stone but was smoother than stone. 

An old man came leading an ox; as the ox’s hooves struck the cement surface, they made a crisp “tap-tap” sound. The old man looked down for a long time, then crouched down to touch it with his hand, muttering, “What is this? Is there such a smooth surface in this world?!”

Liu Cheng, accompanied by five constables, made a round through the market every half-hour.

If someone dropped vegetable leaves on the ground, they’d step in to give a gentle reminder; if a vendor’s stall encroached on the line, they’d help move it back; and if anyone was arguing or stealing, they’d immediately step in to stop it—and if the person wouldn’t listen, they’d hand them over to the local magistrate’s office.

At first, the vendors felt uncomfortable, thinking the officers were there just to keep an eye on them. But gradually, they realized the benefits of the patrols.

In the past, the market was full of thieves; if you weren’t careful, your money pouch would vanish in an instant. Now that officers patrol back and forth, thieves don’t dare to show up. Before, fights over stall space were a daily occurrence, but now each stall has a fixed location—no one has to fight for one, and a peaceful atmosphere brings in more business.

“Listen up, everyone! When you’re packing up, make sure to take your trash with you and dump it in that big basket over there,” Liu Cheng called out as he walked. “Anyone who throws rotten vegetable scraps on the street will get a warning the first time—but the second time, you’ll be fined! Magistrate Duan has said that our market must be clean and tidy, so that market-goers can walk comfortably and you can sell your goods happily, right?”

“Yes!” someone replied.

“Please don’t fine me, Your Honor,” said a fish vendor with a grin. “I only make a few wen selling fish. If you fine me one tael of silver, I’ll be out of business in three days!”

Liu Cheng frowned sternly: “Then don’t litter! Look at all those fish scales on the ground—go sweep them up yourself!”

The fishmonger quickly bent down to pick up the fish scales, muttering, “I know, I know. Your Honor, please don’t say another word. I’ll sweep it up, I’ll sweep it up…”

The next day, after the news spread, an especially large crowd gathered—some came to buy vegetables, some to gawk, some to ask what cement was, and others made a special trip from the countryside just to see “Magistrate Duan building a paved road.”

At the entrance to the market, Magistrate Duan was assigning stalls to the new vendors and showing them where to set up.

An elderly woman in her seventies or eighties, leaning on a cane and supported by Sun Da, walked unsteadily along the cement road. After a few steps, she stopped and poked the ground with her cane. Granny Sun said, “Good heavens, this road is rock-hard—it’s even easier to walk on than the cobblestone streets in the city when I was young! Could it be that the gods in heaven built it?”

Her grandson, Sun Da, chuckled and explained, “Grandma, it’s called a concrete road—it was built by Magistrate Duan.”

“Magistrate Duan,” the old woman nodded, “a good official, a very good official indeed.”

The news spread like wildfire.

In less than three days, word had spread that Wuyuan County had changed—the roads were hard and smooth, the market had moved to a new location and was now being managed, and even vendors who had previously only come from nearby villages began flocking in from far and wide.

Some walked all night from the neighboring county carrying their wares on shoulder poles; others drove donkey carts loaded with several large baskets of sundries; still others pushed handcarts filled with bamboo baskets and containers they’d woven themselves.

The number of people at the market doubled overnight.

The people coming to the market were the happiest about these changes. In the past, they dreaded two things most when going to the market.

First, the roads were rough—dusty in dry weather and muddy in the rain, leaving shoes and socks ruined after just one trip. Second, the stalls were chaotic; buying vegetables meant jostling through the crowd for ages, and pickpockets were a constant threat.

Now it’s great—the road is made of hard concrete, so it feels comfortable underfoot. The stalls are neatly arranged, with clear sections for buying vegetables and meat, so you don’t have to wander around aimlessly anymore. Each stall even has a canopy, so you don’t have to worry about getting soaked to the bone in a sudden downpour. Plus, there are officials patrolling the area, so thieves don’t even dare to come near.

“Going to the market used to be such a nightmare,” Aunt Liu said, her bamboo basket slung over her arm, as she picked out vegetables and chatted with a neighbor standing nearby. “Just look at the ground—it’s so clean! Back then, the ground was full of mud pits. After it rained, it was like a muddy swamp; one step and the mud would come up to your ankles. One year, I took a tumble here and smashed an entire basket of eggs—I cried for ages because I was so heartbroken.”

Aunt Zhang, a neighbor who had come with her to buy vegetables, chimed in: “That’s for sure! And those stalls were such a mess—meat sellers right next to fabric sellers, with blood splashing onto the fabric—the fabric vendor was so furious they wanted to hit someone. Now it’s much better: the meat sellers are in one section, and the vegetable and fabric vendors are in another. No one gets in each other’s way, so we don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“And then there are those officers,” Aunt Liu said, lowering her voice but with a note of satisfaction in her tone, “I used to be scared just seeing them—I’d think they were coming to cause trouble. But these officers are different—they’re all smiles, and when they remind you to sweep up the trash, they’re polite and not mean at all.” 

“That’s for sure,” Aunt Zhang laughed. “The men Magistrate Duan brought in—are they any good?”

As the two of them chatted, the conversation turned once again to Magistrate Duan.

Aunt Liu sighed, “Magistrate Duan really is a good official. He’s been in our county for less than half a year, and just look—the crops are growing in the fields, the wharf has been repaired, and the market is in such good shape. As for those county magistrates before him, weren’t they all just there to coast by? Only Magistrate Duan is genuinely dedicated to serving the common people.”

Duan Jin had erected an archway at the entrance to the market, and now people gather there every day to meet up or take a break and chat.

A few elderly men who lived nearby had brought small stools and were sitting against the wall, basking in the sun and watching the crowds come and go, living a leisurely and carefree life. An old man surnamed Li pointed at the concrete pavement and remarked with emotion, “I’ve lived sixty-eight years, and this is the first time I’ve walked on such a good road in our county town. Tell me, what is this concrete made of? How come it’s so hard?”

An elderly man surnamed Zhao beside him chimed in, “I hear it’s made by firing stones—produced at Zhu Laotong’s kiln. Do you know Zhu Laotong? He’s the one who used to be a craftsman in the prefectural capital. He’s really made something of himself now—he’s the chief foreman at the official kiln, overseeing dozens of workers!”

“Zhu Laotong, huh? I’ve heard of him. His family wasn’t very well-off, but I hear things are better now that he’s working for Magistrate Duan—life’s much more prosperous.”    

“Magistrate Duan really knows what he’s doing. I’m afraid Wuyuan County is only going to get better and better from now on.”

“That’s for sure. The fields have been cultivated, the docks and roads have been improved, more and more merchant ships are docking now, and business is booming everywhere—so we’re making more money!”

The old men chatted back and forth, talking animatedly, smiles on their faces.

The scope of cement road paving gradually expanded from the central crossroads to the county seat’s main streets.

Duan Jin plans to pave all the main roads in the county seat with concrete within three months, and then gradually pave the roads leading to the surrounding townships as well.

It was a massive undertaking, requiring large quantities of cement and labor.

Fortunately, production at the official kiln was gradually increasing; the first group of kiln workers had already mastered the firing techniques, and Zhu Laotong had recruited a second group of kiln workers from the surrounding villages.

With all three kilns operating at full capacity, production was sufficient to meet the paving needs of the county town’s roads.

At the same time, Duan Jin had trees planted on both sides of every newly paved road.

The saplings—locust and willow trees purchased from a nursery outside the city—had slender trunks and branches and looked rather unremarkable, but they were hardy and would thrive.

Duan Jin said to the official in charge of the tree-planting project, “Once these trees grow, they’ll provide shade in the summer, and the people won’t have to walk under the scorching sun.” 

The official laughed and replied, “Sir, how long will that take?”

Duan Jin laughed as well: “We’ll just have to wait. After all, I’m not planting these trees just so I can enjoy the shade myself.”