The moment Gao Yiye put on her "instructor face," even chickens would've stood at attention.
"Gao Sanwa skipping class?" she declared. "That's just a child being a menace. Dao Xuan Tianzun laughs, lets Madam Gao give him some bamboo-shoot shredded pork, and calls it 'a proper childhood.'
But this—" she pointed at the militia lined up before her, "—is not a playground. This is the militia. Here, there is no room for laziness. Especially not in my lectures. If you ignore even one rule, that's military punishment. No mercy."
Flat-Rabbit jolted.
Inside, though, he muttered:
Come on… Tianzun personally punishing me for missing a lecture? He's a god. A celestial. Busy with divine matters. Why would he care about one tiny rabbit?
In short: he did not believe a word of it.
And Li Daoxuan saw everything.
A man holding power must have discipline.
Otherwise every bright-eyed youth becomes a dragon-slaying hero who turns into the next tyrant.
So Li Daoxuan quietly lifted the lid of his storage box, reached inside, and placed his hand directly behind Flat-Rabbit's back.
Gao Yiye saw that divine hand, and a tiny grin snuck onto her face.
"Flat-Rabbit," she said sweetly, "you've angered Dao Xuan Tianzun. Brace yourself."
Flat-Rabbit saw her suddenly smiling and assumed she was joking.
Then—
WHAM!
A divine shove launched him forward.
He face-planted so hard he probably left a dent in the earth.
This wasn't even his first heavenly beating.
In fact, in all of Gaojia Village, only Flat-Rabbit had experienced this "unique blessing."
He stayed flattened on the ground, squeaking,
"Mercy! Tianzun spare me! I was wrong! I was wrong!"
Gao Yiye crossed her arms.
"Oh? And what exactly were you wrong about?"
"I'll listen! I'll listen to your lectures! I swear I'll listen!"
"Good. Get up."
She snapped back into serious-instructor mode.
"All of you—repeat after me. One: follow commands in all actions."
The militia roared,
"Follow commands in all actions!"
"Two: never take a needle or thread from the people!"
The hills practically shook with their chant.
Flat-Rabbit straightened his back, finally taking things seriously.
He had joined thinking he'd become a heroic outlaw who fought injustice—and maybe bullied some corrupt landlords along the way.
But these rules?
Protect the people.
Defend the crops.
Respect women.
He suddenly realized:
Wait. This is… actually what a good outlaw is supposed to do.
Motivation ignited in him. He shouted louder than all the others.
Li Daoxuan nodded in satisfaction.
A good army's soul is discipline. Battle power? He could cheat for that.
Discipline? That one mortals had to build themselves.
Just then, the door of the plastic mansion creaked open.
Xing Honglang walked out, stretching like a cat waking from winter. She glanced at her arm—healing nicely. Much better than the rough bandit medicines she had been using. Yesterday's "sacred ointment" from Gao Yiye had worked miracles.
From the north slope, she looked down at Gaojia Village.
The militia stood in neat rows, shouting:
"Protect the crops!"
"Do not harass women!"
Xing Honglang burst out laughing.
This "militia" was hilarious.
Not training martial arts at dawn, but chanting righteous slogans?
Still… the slogans made sense. If they actually lived by those rules, they'd be better than half the so-called "heroes" in the jianghu nowadays, where most "good men" had quietly downgraded into thugs.
Meanwhile—
The most famous "hero" under heaven, Bai Shui Wanger, marched with six thousand rebels north from Yijun. They entered Luochuan County, kicking up dust clouds.
The Luochuan Inspector prepared to fight—until hearing that Luochuan's own mud-avoiding bandits had returned from Huanglong Mountain and entered Luochuan from the west.
Two hostile forces, each thousands strong, stepping into his county.
With barely a hundred unreliable soldiers under him.
He froze.
Which enemy do I fight first?
After much sweating and despair, he concluded:
Kill Wanger first.
Slay the icon, and the rebels' courage collapses.
Elsewhere—
Shaanxi's grain-transport commissioner, Hong Chengchou, finally withdrew from Huanglong Pass. He had a real job—overseeing grain, not permanently camping in a mountain pass.
And once his forces pulled out, the route from Huanglong to Yichuan opened again.
The Yichuan bandit chief wasted no time and swept his men back home, wreaking havoc across his familiar territory.
Like a fish returning to water, as the old saying goes.
All of Shaanxi was devolving into chaos.
Xing Honglang, unaware of how manic the outlaw world had become, felt only peace in Gaojia Village.
Halfway down the slope, she ran into Cheng Xu.
Cheng Xu cupped his fists.
"Miss Xing."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? Instructor Cheng wants something from me?"
"A small matter," he smiled. "I'd like to borrow two people."
"Borrow people? You have a militia and a whole village at your command. Why borrow from me?"
He looked embarrassed.
"Among all my men… none can serve as scouts."
Xing Honglang blinked.
Ah. Scouts.
Scouts required quick minds, sharp eyes, flexible judgment, and skilled archery—hardly something an average peasant militia could produce overnight.
Cheng Xu added, "The rebels from Heyang might arrive at any moment. I'd prefer not to discover them only when they're breathing down our necks."
"So you've set your sights on my people," she said dryly.
"Your crew has traveled the jianghu for years. Sharp vision, quick thinking. Far better than my rookies. And since you're recovering here, sending scouts out will make you safer as well."
That was reasonable.
"Fine," she said. "Call Old Zhu and Old Zhang."
Cheng Xu grinned.
"And have your men bring two of mine along, teach them how scouting works."
Xing Honglang sighed.
"So you're stealing techniques from me now?"
Footnotes
"Proper childhood" punishment — In many rural traditions, mild punishments like a smack or a meal penalty were seen as part of raising children, not cruelty.
Militia discipline — Historical militias often relied heavily on moral instruction and codes of conduct to prevent them from turning into bandit gangs.
Bandit chaos in Shaanxi — The late Ming era saw repeated cycles of bandit uprisings; local officials were often overwhelmed by the sheer numbers and mobility of rebel groups.
Scouts as elite soldiers — Scouting required a rare combination of strength, riding skill, archery, stealth, and judgment—far beyond what untrained villagers could perform.