Bai Shui Wang Er led hundreds charging toward Chengcheng County.

The two old soldiers guarding the city gates were stunned in an instant.

Due to the peculiar military colony system of the Ming Dynasty, the garrison troops of Chengcheng County were not inside the town proper.

They were farming and loafing about in a garrison post over ten li beyond the county seat.

The gate guards knew they could not expect reinforcements soon; with just two old men resisting several hundreds of rebels, they would never dare even if given a hundred guts.

The two old soldiers decisively ducked into a ditch nearby, then stripped off their military uniforms as fast as possible, becoming two decrepit old men…

The peasant uprising army surged onto the town streets instantly.

Common folks on the street panicked and scrambled back into their homes.

Wang Er did not mean to trouble them; he led the rebel army straight to the county office.

After they had charged past, Thirty-Two emerged from an alley, looked left and right on the deserted street, then ran swiftly toward the artisan household neighborhood.

Actually, after Gao Chuwu had escorted Thirty-Two’s wife and daughter away, he was about to go find a blacksmith when battle cries arose outside the walls.

Bai Shui Wang Er had indeed rebelled!

He quicky took off his long scholar’s robe, changed into coarse servant clothes from home, and messed up his hair to resemble a disheveled middle-aged beggar before stepping out, darting through alleys until he spotted Wang Er leading hundreds of rebels surging past the main street up ahead, murderously heading for the county office.

Only after they all left did Thirty-Two take deep breaths to embolden himself, emerge from the alley, and continue running toward the artisan household neighborhood.

Soon afterward, he reached Craftsmen Street.

It was a dark, narrow lane with crumbling houses and filthy water pooling everywhere.

Those residing there were all artisan households: blacksmiths, carpenters, potters—all were included.

These people were very poor.

After inhaling deeply, Thirty-Two knocked on the blacksmith’s door.

Outside, the peasant uprising raged; the blacksmith cowered alone at home, trembling, suddenly jumped by the knock and terrified to open up.

Only when he heard Thirty-Two’s soft voice call out did he gather courage to unlatch it: “Ah, is it Third Lady? Why have you come to my place? And dressed like that?”

Thirty-Two slipped inside fast and closed the door: “Shh! Rebels rioting outside—that’s why I’m disguised.”

The blacksmith: “Ah!”

Thirty-Two lowered his voice: “Don’t fret about those rebels; they won’t target you. At most, they’ll kill County Lord, county clerk, principal, minor officials, and yamen runners before looting the granaries—it won’t shift here yet.”

The blacksmith: “Then what about you?”

Thirty-Two said hastily: “Li Da, you’re Chengcheng County’s finest blacksmith, yet no official treats you like a human. Only I appreciate your skills—that’s what you call discernment.”

Indeed, this blacksmith was named Li Da and truly the best in Chengcheng County, having forged many quality weapons and armor for the patrol officer and garrison troops.

But the imperial court disregarded artisan households; no matter your skill level, you ranked lower than commoners—the county magistrate barely glanced at artisans, much less cared about quality.

Only the private secretary aiding the magistrate knew his ability.

In truth, Thirty-Two was a decent guy who often spoke up for the poor; Li Da owed him favors, or else during this turmoil he might not have opened the door earlier.

Li Da admitted awkwardly: “Right, only Third Lady recognizes this humble man’s craft.”

Thirty-Two said: “I know you stay poor and dream of wealth. I’ve an opening: follow me to serve as a private blacksmith for an extremely wealthy lord—do you want to?”

Li Da looked puzzled: “An extremely wealthy lord? Private blacksmith? But… I hold artisan registration. If I flee casually, won’t that be bad?”

Thirty-Two pointed outward: “Now rebels rampage and slaughter everywhere—catch this moment to escape. Officials won’t chase you; everyone assumes rebels hacked you to mincemeat. You’ll shed artisan registration forever, join a new wealthy lord, and labor hard. If pleased, he might secure a fresh household register for you, cleansing your status down to white.”

On hearing this, Li Da got tempted at once.

He couldn’t recall which ancestor, captured post-defeat and forced into craft, condemned descendants to artisan registration—their life turned wretched, finding wives near impossible, and he remained single still.

Hearing Thirty-Two’s pitch of escaping to serve a lord with white status potential maxed the temptation.

Ancient minds stayed simple—unversed in tricks like organ harvesting in Myanmar—so trusting easily, especially as Thirty-Two stood reputable as a private secretary.

He whispered: “Will it truly grant me a good life?”

“Trust me,” Thirty-Two urged. “Go, let’s quit fast—with rebels causing havoc, yamen runners tied to county office, and guards hiding, your artisan registration can slip free. Once rebels calm, escape becomes impossible—you’ll remain artisans forever through generations.”

That talk turned bone-chilling!

Li Da clenched his teeth and resolved: “Go, take me to meet that wealthy lord.”

Thirty-Two rejoiced inwardly: Good, the blacksmith was tricked! By my silver tongue—swindling, conning, reckless—I’d finally helped Great deity secure a blacksmith. Haha, now my niche as Great deity’s lackey stood firm.

This beat tailing a county magistrate hands down.

He patted Li Da’s shoulder, tugged his arm, and both slipped out the door.

The county town still clamored intensely; chaos centered near county office and wealthy blocks—yells signaled its fall, battle noise swelling into mansions as guards fought rebels.

Now and then, female shrieks pierced through!

Without needing sight, Thirty-Two knew many women suffered assault in this frenzy—especially magistrate daughters and maids with pretty looks and tender skin in rebels’ grasp likely to…

He sighed long: Seizing seed grain was the government’s fault, but these women committed what crimes?

Officials held no good; rebels showed the same.

Indeed, only Thirty-Two acted with unstained conscience amid this world—truly, “while the whole muddies, I alone stay pure.”

He tugged Li Da’s arm: “Hurry hurry, off we scram! Once rebels finish rich houses, turmoil will hit here.”

Dashing along streets, they spotted the wide-open gates ahead—absolutely no gate guards patrolled.

The instant they burst outside, Li Da’s mood soared: Haha, this artisan household had fled official dominion at last.