Receiving the order, the laborers quickly resumed chiseling holes in the stockade walls. A joyful buzz of activity filled the air as the construction neared completion.
But as the stockade neared its final stages, an unsettling sense of apprehension began to stir among the common folk who had sought refuge in Pujiu Temple.
Once the stockade was finished, would they simply be sent away?
What if the salt smuggler boss, Chief Xing, suddenly declared, "Alright, you can all go home now"?
How would they survive then?
A palpable sense of anxiety spread through the district where the common folk had settled. Large groups began gathering around Zhan Seng, their voices hushed as they whispered their deep-seated fears.
Zhan Seng nodded, a look of understanding on his face. "Understood," he said quietly. "This monk will go and inquire with Chief Xing."
He departed from the commoners' district and headed toward the infantry camp.
As he approached the gate separating the two zones, a squad of guards barred his path. "Token!" they demanded.
Zhan Seng raised an eyebrow. "Aren't the tokens still being made?"
The soldiers exchanged an awkward glance. "Indeed," one admitted.
Zhan Seng smiled lightly. "This monk has an important matter to discuss with Chief Xing."
Understanding that Zhan Seng represented the common folk, the soldiers relayed his request. Moments later, a guard returned with the reply: "Master Zhan Seng, you may proceed."
Zhan Seng nodded, thinking to himself, They claim to be salt smugglers, yet their conduct is remarkably organized. Their discipline is superior to any government troops. If this really is the work of mere salt smugglers, I would gladly gouge out my eyes and feed them to the dogs.
Led by a soldier, Zhan Seng reached the infantry camp's "deliberation hall"—a grand title for what was essentially a hastily erected wooden hut. Inside, Xing Honglang, the nominal leader of this force, was deep in discussion with her subordinates.
In truth, however, the real authority in this camp lay with Gao Chuwu. Though he simply nodded and muttered "Sounds good, let's do it," if he didn't approve, no one dared to act rashly.
As Zhan Seng arrived at the entrance, he saw Xing Honglang intently carving a piece of wood into a token. The characters "Chuwu" were etched into it, and she gazed at the token from all angles with clear affection, even pressing it lovingly against her cheek...
Zhan Seng cleared his throat. "Ahem! Chief Xing."
"Ah!" Xing Honglang yelped, leaping to her feet. "Just now... well... I simply liked the texture of the wood, so I couldn't help but rub it. I wasn't fondling those two specific characters, I swear!"
Zhan Seng muttered a quiet "Amitābha Buddha! Blessings, blessings! This monk saw absolutely nothing."
Xing Honglang relaxed. "That's more like it. Now, what brings you here? What important matter requires my attention?"
Zhan Seng lowered his voice. "The common folk are deeply concerned that once the stockade is finished, there will be no more work and no one to feed them. You know how it is outside: a great drought has gripped the land, chaos and war reign, and bandits roam freely. Natural disasters and human calamities have converged, making life incredibly hard for ordinary folk. They were used to hardship before, but after working here for a few days—with food provided and three jin of flour every day—these good times have barely begun, and now they fear they're ending. Their hearts are very uneasy."
Xing Honglang smiled softly. "Oh, is that all? Tell everyone there's no need to worry. The work will never run out."
Zhan Seng looked puzzled. "Hm?"
Xing Honglang nodded confidently. "Now that the stockade is complete and our position secure, we must, of course, aim for an even better life. The next step—the second phase—is to construct blacksmiths' forges, carpenters' workshops, mills… essentially, everything a thriving port town should possess. We'll build all that's needed and establish all the necessary enterprises."
Zhan Seng's eyes widened. They intend to transform Gudu Ferry into an artisanal town? Such grand ambition! This is even less like the work of salt smugglers. If anything, it sounds more like the plans of a local government official.
Xing Honglang continued, "Go back and tell the common folk to build this place as if it were their own home. All manner of houses, artisans' workshops, and shops can be constructed freely. And, of course, all workers' wages will remain at three jin of flour per day."
Zhan Seng raised an eyebrow. "But you can't just let them build wherever they please," he said with a wry smile. "If two residents decide to build houses that are connected, they'll inevitably fight over the land."
Xing Honglang paused, realizing he had a point. Heavens, that's true. Town planning requires actual foresight. You can't just let the villagers build whatever they want, or it'll end up as a jumbled mess of houses, with no space to even walk between them...
She let out a frustrated sigh. Damn it!
As for planning and construction, I certainly don't know how. Zao Ying wouldn't either, and Gao Chuwu is out of the question. Lao Nanfeng probably struggles with it too, right? Everyone who came to Shanxi this time is a military commander; there isn't a single civil administrator among us.
Xing Honglang felt a touch embarrassed. "Master Zhan Seng, once we embark on all these projects, I'll be quite swamped. It seems we'll need to recruit a scholar for assistance. Do you happen to know any learned individuals skilled in planning and managing town construction? Someone who's served as a magistrate's aide would be perfect."
Zhan Seng couldn't help but chuckle. "What scholar would ever be willing to work for salt smugglers?"
"You have a point," Xing Honglang conceded. "Never mind, I'll find a solution for that. For now, don't concern yourself with it. Just tell the common folk to remain calm; there will be plenty of work soon enough. And for these few days without work, I will still ensure they are fed. Oh, and have any merchants among the commoners come to see me?"
Gudu Ferry was, by its very nature, a hub for tradesmen and merchants. Many small vendors operated there, most dealing in smuggled salt, but others hawked all manner of miscellaneous wares.
Xing Honglang handed the freshly carved token to Zhan Seng. "Give this to the merchants," she instructed. "With this in hand, they won't need to be announced when they come to the main camp for discussions."
Zhan Seng took the token, examined it, and subtly asked, "This token is Chief Xing's, isn't it?"
Xing Honglang responded casually, "Yes, it is. What about it?"
Zhan Seng grinned. "If it's your token, shouldn't it bear the character for 'Xing' from your name? Why is 'Chuwu' carved on it instead?"
Xing Honglang froze, caught off guard.
After a few seconds, her face flushed crimson. Should I just kill this monk to ensure his silence? she thought, but then a sudden realization struck her. Gao Chuwu and I are already married! Why should I feel embarrassed? She swiftly regained her composure. "I am a traditional woman; when I marry, I follow my husband. Therefore, my husband is the true chief of this army. What's wrong with carving his name?"
Zhan Seng chuckled inwardly. Keep up the act, hahaha.
He pressed his palms together in a respectful gesture. "Amitābha Buddha! This monk will take his leave now."
Once Zhan Seng was out of earshot, Xing Honglang waved over the guards at the gate. From her pocket, she produced another identical token and whispered conspiratorially, "Look, on the back of the tokens I carve, in this precise spot, I intentionally make a small notch. If you peer closely into that notch, you'll also see two faint, crooked knife marks inside... Any token carved by me will have these specific markings."
The guards at the gate looked utterly bewildered. "Madam Xing," one asked, "why exactly do you do this?"
Xing Honglang gave a sly smile. "Oh, just a little insurance, in case anyone tries to duplicate my work."