Outside the gate of Gaojia Fort, morning mist hanging low like a shy curtain.
Shansier stood at the entrance with his usual bright smile.
"General Cheng, long time no see. Truly—an exceptionally, unbelievably long time."
Cheng Xu narrowed his eyes. "I came here just a few days ago. You even greeted me at the gate."
Shansier blinked innocently. "Huh? That never happened."
Cheng Xu felt his heart do a painful, dramatic thump.
I knew it. That day… I never came to Gaojia Village at all.
I must've wandered into that ghost village. And that female ghost who looked like Shansier—she lured me in! Saints above, I almost got eaten alive…
Cold sweat poured down his forehead like someone opened a floodgate.
Enough. The past is past. I'm alive, aren't I? No need to embarrass myself.
Straightening his back, Cheng Xu pointed at the towering fort.
"This tiny little village of yours—when did you build such a grand fortress?"
Shansier put on his modest-merchant face.
"This? Well, Mister Bai from Baijia Fort funded most of it. I added a little myself. Then every villager within ten miles came to lend a hand. It was a glorious effort of collective strength."
Cheng Xu didn't buy a word of it, but he didn't have the time or energy to argue.
East Forest Party's new county magistrate was arriving in three days—he had no interest in poking into suspicious nonsense right now.
"I heard," Cheng Xu said quickly, "that two nights ago, Wang Er led a raid on Gaojia Fort and was ambushed by your militia. You killed Zhong Guangdao and Zheng Yenfu. Is that true?"
Shansier already understood Wang Er's intentions. To protect Gaojia Village, Wang Er had leaked a deliberately twisted version of events.
Of course Shansier would cooperate.
"Absolutely true," he said proudly.
"Where are Zheng Yenfu and Zhong Guangdao's bodies?"
Shansier pointed toward a slope. "Buried there. See those two stone markers? They're right under them."
Cheng Xu immediately sent men to dig.
A few shovels in, and sure enough—two charred, half-rotten corpses surfaced, stinking to the heavens.
Cheng Xu didn't even blink. Technology didn't exist to verify corpses anyway.
"Chop their heads off. Bag them."
His soldiers obeyed without hesitation.
Regular troops—dead bodies were nothing new.
Cheng Xu's mood lifted like a phoenix reborn.
"Shansier, you and Mister Bai have made great contributions. When the new magistrate arrives, I'll take you both to claim your rewards. You deserve it."
Shansier shook his head humbly.
"We only killed small fry. These rebel leaders were personally slain by you, General. All the villagers saw it with their own eyes. The real credit belongs to you."
Cheng Xu grinned so wide his cheeks nearly split.
"That's what I like about you, Shansier—you know how things work."
Then his face turned stern.
"Which direction did Wang Er flee?"
Shansier pointed north. "That way."
He wasn't lying—Wang Er truly left through the northern slope.
If Wang Er dared release such provocative news, he must already have a plan.
Cheng Xu didn't waste another word.
"CHASE!"
He led his hundred-odd soldiers into the mountains, disappearing into the forest with loud rustling.
Only once they'd vanished did Shansier shake his head and mutter, "No wonder Mister Bai said the road to the county would soon be clear… so that's how it is. Wang Er seriously wounded, Cheng Xu moving again… the rebels nearby will quiet down for a while."
Then he turned toward the village, cupping his hands to shout:
"Gao Chuwu! Zheng Danio! Get ready—once Cheng Xu stirs things up for a few days, the roads will be safe. We'll head to the county, buy a few horses, and I'm hiring some helpers!"
Gao Chuwu poked his head out from a rooftop.
"Huh? Nobody here knows how to ride a horse. How do we bring 'em back?"
Zheng Danio popped up from another roof.
"Should we carry them on our backs?"
Gao Chuwu nodded earnestly.
"Eh? Yep! If we work together, we're strong enough!"
Zheng Danio thumped his chest.
"Strength? I'm practically overflowing with it."
Shansier pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You two… silence. Even if you can't ride, you can lead the horses. Why would you carry them? Should people ride horses, or horses ride people?"
Both men froze.
"… …"
Meanwhile, Li Daoxuan nearly choked on laughter.
But after laughing… he realized Gao Chuwu's silly comment hid a kernel of truth:
Riding is a high-level skill.
Even if Gaojia Village bought horses, training riders would take ages.
And horses were terrible for transporting the kind of strange contraptions he liked to invent—like that plastic trebuchet last time. A horse-drawn cart could barely handle it.
Transportation…
This was a real problem.
He opened his historical military forum and anonymously posted:
"Dear experts, me again. With access to modern materials and technical manuals, what's the most advanced land transportation the Ming Dynasty can realistically achieve?"
Reply 1: Apollo Module.
Reply 2:
"Bury the guy above me. Even if you have modern materials, Ming people can't read modern manuals. It'll take you ten years to train someone capable. Just stick to horse carts."
Reply 3:
"I read a time-travel novel where they built steam trains."
Reply 4:
"Novels are for fun. Without fundamental science, everything stays on paper. Look at the Ming dynasty's own military manual—tons of weird weapons, zero actually built. Don't trust fiction."
Reply 5:
"I trust the parts where they buy dozens of concubines and host big parties every night. Those are 100% possible in the Ming dynasty."
Everyone else:
"WHY ARE YOU STILL NOT BANNED?
MODS?? WHERE ARE THE MODS?!"
Li Daoxuan rubbed his temples.
The forum… was useless.
He couldn't reveal his golden cheat, so nobody could actually give meaningful advice.
Fine. I'll figure it out myself.
He opened several shopping apps and typed:
"miniature transportation toys…"
There's an old saying:
If it exists, the internet sells it.
As long as it's legal, you'll find it—
the question is whether you're willing .