Xing Honglang and her group departed from Gaojia Village, journeyed eastward, passed Heyang County, stealthily crossed the Yellow River at an illegal crossing point, and entered Shanxi Province. Continuing their rapid march eastward, they soon arrived at Pingyang Prefecture.

Pingyang Prefecture, present-day Linfen County, administered six departments and twenty-eight counties. The prefecture connected with Shangdang to the east, bordered the Yellow River to the west, linked with Bian and Luo to the south, and was shielded by Jinyang to the north.

It was a land frequently ravaged by war.

Pingyang Prefecture was bustling with numerous merchants and travelers. Though it couldn’t compare to Xi’an Prefecture, it was still an excellent place to sell goods.

Arriving in this place, Xing Honglang naturally intended a big operation. The high-quality goods sourced from Gaojia Village were quickly brought out for vigorous selling. In no time, all the goods were sold out, and her pockets were once again filled with gold, silver, and copper coins.

This meant it was time to return to Gaojia Village to replenish their stock.

Leading her thirty to forty subordinates, Xing Honglang left Pingyang Prefecture, planning to return to Gaojia Village. After crossing the Yellow River back into Shaanxi and traversing Heyang County, they encountered several commoners fleeing in disarray along the mountain path leading to a small village.

Some were shouting as they ran, “Run! Bandits are coming! So many bandits! Hurry!”

Villagers immediately retreated into their homes and bolted their doors.

The village fell silent in an instant, leaving only Xing Honglang and her thirty to forty salt smugglers standing there.

Xing Honglang muttered, “Great. Now we’re conspicuous targets.”

Before her self-mockery was complete, hundreds of bandit troops surged out thunderously ahead. Their chaotic equipment clearly marked them as hastily assembled rioters. At their forefront was a large, imposing man with coarse features radiating viciousness.

This burly man instantly spotted the conspicuous group led by Xing Honglang.

A woman on horseback, followed by thirty to forty reasonably well-dressed men—clearly people of some means.

The big man grinned widely, “Brothers! Charge! This haul should net us a big prize.”

Xing Honglang cursed, “Damn it! How dare you think about robbing your granny?”

A subordinate sweated, “Boss, that’s the wrong gender!”

Xing Honglang shot him a furious glare.

The salt smugglers drew their waist knives with sharp, synchronized sounds.

Xing Honglang also drew her own waist knife, laughing loudly, “Your granny has roamed north and south for years! This is the first time I’ve met someone who charges straight to robbery without even a word of greeting! None in the righteous brotherhood these days are real men! All a damn bunch of unruly bandits! Brothers! Charge for your granny!”

The salt smugglers roared as one and charged with knives raised.

A chaotic clash ensued between the two sides.

The combat effectiveness of professional salt smugglers was incomparable to that of a hastily assembled rabble. Despite being outnumbered, Xing Honglang’s group quickly gained the upper hand. In a short time, they battered the bandit troops into a humiliated, mud-streaked retreat.

“Hmph! Trash.” Xing Honglang thrust a dismissive gesture at the fleeing bandit army’s back, only to suddenly notice her right sleeve was entirely soaked crimson. Blood dripped down steadily, pattering to the ground.

Huh? She was wounded? When did that happen?

…

In the first month of Chongzhen Year One.

The population of Gaojia Village had once again increased significantly.

More and more refugees were arriving at Gaojia Village seeking food.

Liang Shixian, the magistrate of Chengcheng County, of course knew about this, but he did nothing to stop it.

Back when Li Daoxuan had promised him relief grain, Thirty-Two and Magistrate Liang Shixian’s steward had held detailed talks concerning disaster relief measures. When discussing establishing congee distribution points in various locations, it had been agreed that Gaojia Village would host one such point.

Liang Shixian was desperate to aid the people and certainly wouldn’t stop such a charitable act.

Therefore, when numerous refugees spread news in the county town that Lord Li of Gaojia Village distributed more congee than the county and could actually fill stomachs, Liang Shixian heard this without anger; instead, he felt greatly encouraged.

Having struggled with the refugee crisis over the past months, Liang Shixian was weary to the bone. Now that they voluntarily went to Gaojia Village for food, it could save him some trouble—why not welcome it?

Under such circumstances, Gaojia Village’s population inevitably grew.

Especially the Short-term Workers Village, whose numbers swelled dramatically.

Li Daoxuan continuously placed plastic houses.

Soon, the area southwest near the bamboo grove ran out of space. Li Daoxuan had to place another cluster of houses along the official road to the southwest. In no time, that area too became overcrowded…

Before anyone realized, “satellite villages” had formed around Gaojia Fortress.

The original Gaojia Village, with its 42 villagers, had transformed into a large town of over a thousand people.

Unconsciously, Li Daoxuan’s viewing scope expanded significantly. The “Zhuangjia Village” where Zhuang Guangdao initiated his rebellion now appeared on the box’s surface, along with unfamiliar names like Zhangjia Village and Li Family Village.

With more people came a greater need for job positions.

This proved troublesome.

Li Daoxuan lacked enough job positions to offer them. After much thought, only one solution emerged: “Begin road construction! All surplus labor must work on road construction.”

Centered around Gaojia Village, cement roads began extending toward nearby villages. Zhengjia Village was the starting point. The cement road toward Wangjia Village was nearly ready for travel, while Zhuangjia Village, Zhangjia Village, Li Family Village, and others simultaneously began roadwork.

Construction sites buzzed with activity across a ten-li radius around Gaojia Village.

At this moment, Li Daoxuan understood why the road near his apartment underwent constant repairs—laborers needed work.

As cement demand rose, Li Daoxuan stopped taking construction site supplies. Instead, he bought a large bag of cement himself, while villagers sourced river sand independently.

Whenever possible, villagers handled tasks themselves—this strategy also created more job positions.

Increased territory meant more blind spots in Li Daoxuan’s view. He usually kept his perspective fixed above Gaojia Fortress, occasionally inspecting other areas or triggering rainfall on farmlands when needed. Beyond these moments, he preferred watching Gaojia Village.

When incidents occurred beyond his sight, he simply couldn’t be everywhere.

Sometimes he sighed: even deities couldn’t protect every life on earth, let alone a mere mortal like himself.

This underscored the growing importance of the militia.

Cheng Xu’s militia now exceeded one hundred members.

The sixty new recruits all came from the Short-term Workers Village.

Able-bodied youths who spent considerable time in Gaojia Village and proved trustworthy would earn Cheng Xu’s recruitment offer. Once enlisted, militia members stopped manual labor—they enjoyed better meals and generous pay.

Yet… daily training was arduous, with most civilians incapable of enduring it. After drills, they reported to the Saint Lady, who taught them principles of conduct while they recited one hundred times: “You are children of the common folk—you mustn’t take even a needle or thread from them.”