When Feng Jun finally finished cleaning up the battlefield at Qiachuan Dock, organized the laborers, and made his way back to Heyang County, another full day had already passed.
As soon as he entered the city, he noticed something strange.
A sweet, lingering aroma filled the air — like someone was frying desserts on every corner.
Egg pancakes.
That's what it smelled like.
Everywhere he looked, the townsfolk were beaming.
Shopkeepers, street vendors, even the grumpy tailor who usually cursed everyone was smiling ear to ear, like it was a festival day.
Feng Jun, on the other hand, was still covered in dust and blood. The cheerfulness around him felt… unnatural.
He grabbed a random peddler by the arm.
"What's with that smell? Why's the whole city so damn cheerful?"
The peddler froze, then bowed frantically.
"R-Reporting to Your Excellency! While you were off fighting the bandits at Qiachuan Dock these past two days, egg pancakes rained down from the sky! The whole city was covered! Daoist Priest Ma said it was a blessing from Dao Xuan Tianzun Himself. We even held a 'Tianzun Egg Pancake Festival' yesterday! That's why it smells so sweet!"
"…It rained egg pancakes?"
Feng Jun blinked hard. He thought the man had gone mad from hunger — until a yamen runner walked by and grinned,
"It's true, sir! I picked up two catties' worth myself. My wife's still frying them at home!"
Feng Jun: "…"
"So the whole city's grinning like idiots because of some pancakes?"
"Not just that," said the peddler, smiling wide. "Everyone made money, too!"
"...What do you mean?"
"Yesterday, the Gaojia Village Militia passed through our county on their way back from victory," the man explained. "They only stayed for one hour — but heavens above, those soldiers are rich! Every one of them bought something. My stall sold out in minutes! Every shop on this street made a fortune. It was the best business day we've had in years!"
Feng Jun's eyes narrowed.
"They bought? Not robbed?"
"Bought!" The man chuckled. "They looked scary, but they were polite, friendly, and paid full price. Not one person was cheated."
Feng Jun fell silent.
The Gaojia Militia… more disciplined than imperial troops?
Bandits were hopeless, of course. But even official soldiers — the best of them — would still extort a meal or "borrow" a few coins when passing through. As for scum like Wu Zimian and Li Ying, they were little more than uniformed thugs.
Yet these Gaojia soldiers had stayed for an hour, spent generously, and left behind nothing but silver and smiles.
He hadn't expected that. Not at all.
After his talk with Bai Yuan yesterday, he'd been considering whether to submit a memorial to the court about Gaojia Village. Now, though, he decided — not yet.
But there was still something he needed to do.
Feng Jun returned to the county office, changed out of his official robes into plain merchant's clothes, and disguised himself.
Then, with a few trusted retainers, he left Heyang quietly and rode hard toward Chengcheng County.
He had to meet Liang Shixian — and fast.
Meanwhile, in Baishui, Wang Er finally led his hundred villagers back home.
When they saw the familiar pond outside Gaojia Fort, half of them broke down crying.
"Our bond with Gaojia Village started right here," one of them said, voice trembling. "Brother Wang Er led us to steal water that day… and they gave us flour instead."
Shansier, accompanied by Gaojia's administrative team, came out to welcome them with a bright smile. Behind him stood villagers from the Zhong, Zheng, and Wang families — many of them former labor convicts, now honest citizens.
For a long moment, everyone simply clasped hands and stared at each other, eyes red, unable to speak.
"You're all home," said Shansier warmly. "That's all that matters."
He gestured toward the fields. "Brother Wang, your lands in Wangjia Village have already had rain and been planted. You just need to register again, and they'll be yours to manage. You can finally settle down and live in peace."
Wang Er turned to look at his people.
After years of fighting, these men were no longer farmers.
He shook his head. "Forget the fields. Someone else must already be tending them. If we come back now and start arguing over ownership, it'll just cause resentment. Let them join the militia instead. They can't farm anymore — but they can still fight. Not one of them blinks when arrows fly."
Shansier nodded. "Makes sense."
Wang Er scratched his beard. "One more thing. I'm still labeled the empire's Number One Rebel. If I keep showing my face around, it could bring trouble to Gaojia Village. I'll change my name — to Wang the Tiger. What do you think?"
Shansier nearly choked. "Pfft—!"
"…What's so funny?" Wang Er frowned.
"You people and your names," said Shansier helplessly. "Tianzun's already complained about your naming sense several times. Can't you pick something that doesn't sound like a cheap tavern sign?"
"What's wrong with it? And who's this Tianzun?"
Shansier smiled. "You'll know soon enough. The flour that saved you back then — that was Tianzun's gift. Dao Xuan Tianzun Himself. He's been watching over you ever since."
Wang Er instinctively looked up at the sky, but saw nothing.
"Men act, Heaven watches," said Shansier softly. "Brother Wang, you've done right by your conscience. Tianzun sees that. Gaojia Village has always kept a place ready for you."
Though he didn't fully understand, Wang Er bowed deeply toward the heavens.
"Wang Er is honored that Tianzun remembers him."
"Come then," said Shansier, smiling. "Take your men to the barracks. See there? That's the training camp. Instructor He's already waiting. He'll help everyone find their role."
"I saw Instructor He in action at Qiachuan Dock," Wang Er said. "He's a fierce one. I'll make sure to learn properly under him."
He led his men toward the camp.
At the gate, Cheng Xu was already waiting. When he saw the cloth mask covering Wang Er's face, he pointed to the one on his own and burst out laughing.
"You too?" Wang Er asked.
"Me too!" Cheng Xu replied.
They clasped fists in silent camaraderie — warriors who didn't need words.
Elsewhere—
Feng Jun and his men entered Chengcheng County quietly. He had planned to head straight to the county office to find Liang Shixian, but the gate guards informed him that the magistrate was currently at the City God Temple.
So they went there instead.
Even from a block away, Feng Jun could see it — towering over the rooftops stood a massive golden statue.
It rose so high that its upper body emerged above all surrounding buildings, bathed in sunlight, shining brilliantly like a divine sentinel.
Feng Jun's jaw dropped.
He had a feeling this meeting was going to be… complicated.