Zhao Sheng took a long moment to catch his breath before he spoke.
"The men behind me are farmers from Gaojia Village. They've been using the Immortal Fertilizer for two or three years now — they've mastered it to perfection."
The farmers of Yangzhuang froze.
They had just been gossiping about that "Immortal Fertilizer," and now the experts themselves were standing right in front of them!
It suddenly made sense — those large burlap sacks had big, bold characters scrawled across them. They must read "Immortal Fertilizer."
Their eyes gleamed with excitement.
Old Yang seemed to catch on. He hesitated, then asked cautiously:
"Ah, I see… so you've come to Yangzhuang to sell this fertilizer? But even if we had some, we wouldn't dare use it without guidance — not unless someone taught us how."
Zhao Sheng smiled.
"That's exactly why I'm here — to teach you how to use it."
The Yangzhuang farmers broke into cheers, grins spreading like wildfire.
But Old Yang's brow furrowed again.
"The tuition… it won't be expensive, right? We're poor folks. After three years of drought, there's barely any money left in our homes."
Zhao Sheng burst into laughter.
"Tuition fee? Hah! You think too little of me! Go ask around in Qingjian County — has Zhao Sheng ever charged the villagers a single coin? Never!"
He pointed proudly to the sacks beside him.
"Even these bags of Immortal Fertilizer are free for you to test. Try them out first. If you like them, we can talk about buying more next spring. Gaojia Village will soon open a Fertilizer Supply Cooperative in Heyang County. You'll be able to get it easily by then."
The Yangzhuang farmers erupted in joy again.
Zhao Sheng slapped his thighs and stood.
"Alright! I've rested enough — lungs are clear again, hahaha! Time to show you how to use the fertilizer properly!"
He jogged toward the nearest field, still talking between gasps.
"We'll start… huff… from this plot… whew… ah… huff… cough—!"
The farmers stared at him blankly.
"...Is he teaching us farming or doing cardio drills?"
Huanglong Mountain
The Prison Valley From afar, the valley looked peaceful — a cradle of fog and silence.
Up close, it was a cage.
More than seven thousand prisoners were trapped inside, most of them old, frail, or women and children. The few young men who remained were sent out regularly for hard labor — building a road from Huanglong Mountain Prison to Bai Fortress, or constructing a concrete watchtower atop the nearby peak.
But there weren't many young men left.
The reason was simple: they'd been the backbone of the bandit armies. Most had died in battle or had been executed by firing squads during Gaojia Village's brutal pacification campaigns.
What remained were the weak, the old, and the widowed — the aftermath of rebellion.
Since they couldn't do heavy work, Gaojia Village had sent spinning machines and bundles of cotton, assigning them to weaving instead.
That noon, the prison gates erupted in noise.
A convoy from Gaojia Village arrived, accompanied by several wagons hauling massive iron contraptions — strange new machines.
They were dragged into the women's workshop, replacing rows of old spinning wheels that had been dismantled to make space.
Under the direction of the warden, Zhong Gaoliang, the prisoners — mostly elderly women and children — gathered around, staring in wonder at the alien devices.
Following the machines came a delegation of engineers from Gaojia's workshop — clean cotton clothes, neatly combed hair, shoes without dust.
They carried themselves like men who had seen the future and weren't afraid to brag about it.
The lead engineer raised his voice:
"What you're about to see is the latest marvel — the Steam-Powered Spinning Machine and its companion, the Steam Loom!"
The prisoners exchanged confused looks.
He sighed, muttering,
"Fine, demonstration first, lecture later."
He fed coal into one compartment, poured water into another, and cranked a valve.
The machine hissed like a boiling dragon.
With a deep rumble, the great iron beast came alive — spinning cotton into thread in a blur of speed and steam.
The prisoners gasped.
"Waaah! Amazing!"
Next, the engineer took the freshly spun thread and looped it through the loom.
Steam puffed again — the loom clattered rhythmically, and in moments, neat sheets of white cotton cloth rolled out.
The engineer spread his arms proudly.
"Now you see it! Do you know what this means?"
A young female prisoner from Yichuan suddenly burst into tears.
"I know! I understand now!"
The engineer brightened, genuinely touched.
"Excellent! Then tell everyone what you've understood!"
The woman sobbed.
"It means… with this machine weaving all the cloth, the prison doesn't need us anymore. You can just kill us all — it'll save on rations!"
The prisoners panicked instantly.
Several old women wailed, clutching their chests.
The engineer nearly spat blood.
"What kind of imagination—! Are you people serious?!"
He roared,
"We're Gaojia villagers, not famine demons! Do you really think we'd kill people to save grain? Stop confusing us with the damn bandits!"
The crowd fell silent, uneasy.
An old woman asked timidly,
"Then… what should we understand?"
The engineer laughed bitterly.
"Hah! You people are going to kill me faster than this boiler! This machine means progress! Faster spinning! Faster weaving! Cheaper cotton! From now on, cloth prices will fall! Even poor folk can afford cotton clothes — yes, even you lot! Understand? Hah… Hah… gods above, you're going to drive me insane!"
The prisoners stared at him blankly.
"???"
The engineer wiped his face.
"Trying to explain technological progress to you people is like playing the lute to a cow."
Warden Zhong Gaoliang stepped up, chuckling.
"Don't take it to heart. These folks… their minds don't turn so fast. You can't reason with them — just give orders."
The engineer groaned but nodded. Then he raised his voice once more:
"These are the newest models of spinning and weaving machines! The old hand-operated ones are being retired. From now on, you'll be divided into small teams — learn how to use these new machines! Once you're trained, you'll spin and weave with them! Understand?"
The old women and widows blinked, then realized — they weren't being killed after all!
They sighed in relief and shouted all at once:
"Understood!"
The engineer mumbled under his breath:
"Good grief… even mercy sounds like an execution order in this place."