Fang Wushang unfolded the map and pressed it flat with one hand, like he was trying to keep reality from curling back up.
He leaned over it together with Bai Yuan, both of them staring at lines that represented mountains, villages—and future problems.
"Fanshan Yue accepted amnesty in Heyang County," Fang Wushang said.
"Once his forces disband, they won't disappear. They'll fragment. Small groups. Dozens here, scores there. All heading 'home.'"
Bai Yuan nodded.
Bandits never vanished. They just learned new vocabulary.
"Most will return to Heyang's villages," Fang Wushang continued, "but some will head back to Baishui, Chengcheng, even Hancheng."
His finger slid along the mountain ridge separating Heyang and Chengcheng, tracing it slowly from north to south.
"Every village along this line," he said, tapping the map, "is a potential stop for 'collecting grain.'"
He didn't bother explaining the term. Everyone knew what it meant.
Bai Yuan sighed quietly.
Collecting grain — the most polite phrase ever invented for armed robbery.
"I'll stay in the center," Fang Wushang said. "Wherever the bandits gather in numbers, I'll reinforce. The rest of the time, each village survives on its own militia."
He looked at Bai Yuan.
"That means you'll need to distribute instructors properly. No gaps."
"As expected," Bai Yuan replied. "If there's a hole, they'll find it."
They scanned the map from north to south.
The first name Bai Yuan's eyes landed on was Zhengjia Village.
Fanshan Yue had fought a brutal battle there before. Sui Fengxiong and Er Chun had died on that ground. If his men wanted to cross into Chengcheng again, Zhengjia would be the door.
And doors, unfortunately, existed to be kicked in.
Further south: Beisi Village. Shijiagou. Bangou Village. Beipo. Zhangjiahe. Quangou. Changjiahe.
Fang Wushang tapped Quangou Village.
"I'll station myself here. Central position. Fast response."
"Good," Bai Yuan said. "I'll assign militia to the rest."
Fang Wushang hesitated, then exhaled through his nose.
"There's a problem," he said.
"Actually… several problems wearing one coat."
Bai Yuan raised an eyebrow.
"These aren't ordinary bandits anymore. On paper, they've accepted amnesty. That makes them 'commoners.' Legally speaking, they're just travelers returning home."
He grimaced.
"Which means we can't stop them. Can't block roads. Can't strike first. We can only act after they start causing trouble."
Bai Yuan's mouth tightened.
"So we wait until someone bleeds."
"Yes," Fang Wushang said. "In very official terms."
Silence fell.
Before, when Fanshan Yue's men climbed toward Zhengjia Village, the militia didn't debate philosophy. They rolled logs downhill and asked questions later.
Now?
If a single stone fell while the bandits were still "traveling," the militia would be the ones in the wrong.
It was the kind of rule that only made sense from a desk.
"If they use 'going home' as cover," Bai Yuan muttered, "climb past the natural defenses, then turn violent…"
"…we won't even see it coming," Fang Wushang finished.
Li Daoxuan, who had been listening quietly, frowned.
This wasn't a tactical problem.
It was a human stupidity problem, which was always harder.
They were still discussing contingencies when Fang Wushang's troops finally arrived, staggering in like they'd marched through hell instead of a few hills.
"General… huff… reporting…"
"We finally… made it…"
Fang Wushang glanced back, mildly surprised.
"Oh. You caught up."
The soldiers straightened hopefully.
"We're done here," Fang Wushang said. "Heading to Quangou Village immediately."
He kicked his horse and shot off like the road owed him money.
The soldiers stared.
"…Again?"
"He didn't even sit down."
Protest was pointless. The general was already gone.
They sighed and resumed marching.
The deputy inspector muttered, "I really miss Inspector Cheng."
An archer nodded. "He was solid. Reliable. Didn't treat legs like optional equipment."
"…Shame the Jinyiwei killed him."
"Achoo!"
Deep in a distant forest, Cheng Xu sneezed violently.
"…Who's slandering me?"
Gaojia Village had already been gearing up for war, planning to march into Huanglong Mountain and punch Wang Zuogua in the face.
Now the target simply changed direction.
After Fang Wushang left, Cheng Xu emerged from behind the trees.
"Zhengjia Village will be the critical point," he said.
"I'll take the main Gaojia militia and hold it."
"Good," Bai Yuan replied. "Zao Ying's cavalry stays mobile in the center. No village duty. I'll head back to the county seat and bring the new county militia—two hundred per unit—to guard the rest."
Li Daoxuan finally spoke.
"Bai Yuan."
His voice was calm. Too calm.
"You're not facing a problem of strength," he said. "You could defeat these bandits."
Bai Yuan turned.
"The problem," Li Daoxuan continued, "is that you're not allowed to hit first."
He paused.
"And letting armed bandits mingle with villagers is how disasters begin quietly."
Bai Yuan nodded grimly.
"Keep distance," Li Daoxuan said. "And compensate with presence. Enough presence that they don't even consider causing trouble."
Gao Yiye had just arrived nearby, which meant Li Daoxuan didn't need to lower his voice.
Bai Yuan's eyes sharpened.
"That's exactly my thought. I just haven't figured out how to scare them properly."
"Show them teeth," Li Daoxuan said.
"…More detail?"
"Bring all militias to Gaojia Village," Li Daoxuan replied.
"Have the Workshop equip them fully. Armor. Weapons. Everything. When the bandits see that formation, they'll remember how fragile they are."
Bai Yuan inhaled sharply.
"Yes… intimidation through professionalism."
"And grain," Li Daoxuan added.
Bai Yuan blinked.
"…Grain?"
"Yes. A lot of it."
Bai Yuan hesitated. "Won't that just attract them?"
Li Daoxuan shook his head.
"A hungry man becomes a bandit.
A fed man becomes lazy.
And lazy men go home and stop creating paperwork."
He continued flatly:
"If anyone eats your grain and still tries to rob villages—kill them. Hang their heads."
Bai Yuan bowed deeply.
"Dao Xuan Tianzun is benevolent."
Li Daoxuan replied, unimpressed:
"Some of Fanshan Yue's men have been killing for over a year. They're not farmers anymore. They're predators who learned to speak politely."
His tone cooled.
"Anyone who pushes further after being fed gets executed. Mercy ends where stupidity begins."
Bai Yuan straightened.
"I understand."
He mounted his horse and rode hard for the county seat.
At the same time, Shansier began preparing grain convoys.
It was a logistical nightmare.
Most villages were remote. No proper roads. Only hand-pushed carts dragged across mountains like stubborn regrets.
You needed people. A lot of them.
Li Daoxuan snapped his fingers.
"Shansier. The prison."
Shansier froze.
"…The prison?"
"Labor convicts," Li Daoxuan said.
"One hundred per group. Transport the grain. Once delivered, arm them and have them guard it."
Shansier's eyes lit up.
"…That's clever."
He laughed softly.
"If the returning bandits behave, nothing happens. If they touch the grain…"
He grinned.
"Then they're seeking death."
"…But," Shansier hesitated, "what if the convicts run off with the grain halfway?"
Li Daoxuan didn't look at him.
"I'll be watching."
Shansier immediately straightened.
"…Understood."