The salt wind from the Yellow River carried a faint tang of iron and smoke.
Xing Honglang strode ahead, the long hem of her cloak brushing against the dust. Behind her, the salt artisans trudged nervously, their carts creaking beneath the weight of coarse white salt.
"Don't be afraid," she said with an easy smile. "Keep moving forward. That stronghold up ahead— it's ours."
The salt artisans froze, stunned.
"Ours?" one man whispered. "Commander, we're just selling salt. Is it really necessary to build such a fortress?"
Xing Honglang only laughed and waved a hand, refusing to explain. Her calm confidence was more unsettling than reassurance.
Around the massive wooden walls, men were cleaning up the aftermath of a battle. Several bodies were being carried out, their wounds fresh and brutal. One corpse had bulging eyes, its face twisted in horror.
Xing Honglang frowned and called out to a sentry on the watchtower.
"What happened while I was gone?"
The sentry saluted. "Commander Xing, you're back! Earlier today, Old Zhang Fei—Bu Zhan Ni's fifth company leader—led a raid on the stronghold. These dead men were his."
Xing Honglang nodded slightly.
Behind her, the salt artisans gawked in disbelief.
Rebels had attacked this place? Was that even possible? Those men came in thousands, and yet this fortress of salt smugglers had survived? Their eyes darted toward Xing Honglang again, the image of a mere trader fading, replaced by something far more formidable.
Just then, the gates of the stronghold burst open.
"Honglang!"
"Chuwu!"
Gao Chuwu rushed out, spreading his arms wide. Xing Honglang mirrored him, and with a resounding thump, the two embraced in full view of everyone.
The salt artisans stood frozen.
The majestic "Commander Xing" image they had begun to form shattered instantly into a thousand glittering shards.
Old Nanfeng's voice rang out from the yard. "You lot, stop gawking! Bring those salt carts inside. Let the lovebirds breathe."
The salt workers traded looks but wisely said nothing. They pushed their carts through the gate, where rows of soldiers guided them toward the warehouse district.
Inside, they saw mountains of grain piled higher than men. The sight alone left them speechless.
Zao Ying shouted toward Gao Chuwu, still clinging to his wife, "Hey! Stop cuddling and start working! Your wife promised these porters fifty catties of flour each. They're waiting!"
Gao Chuwu laughed and finally let go of Xing Honglang.
"Right, right! You heard her—get a squad to weigh out the grain."
A team of soldiers hurried to the storerooms, pulling open sacks of flour, weighing fifty catties for each artisan, and handing them out one by one.
The salt workers could barely believe it. Fifty catties! It was heavy—backbreaking even—but no one complained. Each sack was like a promise of a new life.
A grey-bearded salt artisan clutched his reward, tears streaking down his face.
"When we worked for the officials, we'd labor a month and not see this much grain. I've decided—I'm not going back! I'll work for Commander Xing. I'll go make salt at Xiao Lake!"
The others murmured in agreement, their earlier doubts vanishing like mist. They would return home only to gather their families and then slip away forever from the villages that had starved them. Here, by the lake, there was work, food, and dignity.
As the men talked, the old artisan caught sight of a passing monk. His eyes widened in shock.
He hurried forward, grabbing the monk's robe.
"Master! Are you… the Man-Eating Salt Owl, He Ping, who ruled the jianghu twenty years ago? I once sold you illegal salt! I'm Zhao Xiaohei, from Xichai Village! You saved me back then—cut down thirteen government soldiers in one breath!"
The monk turned calmly, pressing his palms together. "Amitabha. Benefactor, you are mistaken. This poor monk's name is Zhan Seng. I've long been a resident monk of Pujiu Temple. How could I be some bloodthirsty Salt Owl? I am a man of peace."
Zhao Xiaohei blinked. "Oh… I see. My apologies, Master. You truly have the air of a kind soul. I must have been mistaken."
Zhan Seng smiled serenely. "It is well. May all beings be at peace."
The younger monks nearby exchanged glances, wiping sweat from their brows.
No, old man, they thought, you weren't mistaken. He just hasn't seen blood today.
Meanwhile, Xing Honglang gave a discreet order to her men:
"Let the salt artisans wander freely. Let them see everything."
So the salt workers explored.
They saw pastures filled with well-fed warhorses, lines of arquebusiers maintaining their matchlocks, and groups of elderly women and children preparing meals by vast steaming cauldrons. Down by the river, laborers hammered planks together to build a sturdy new dock.
This was no den of outlaws. It was a proper camp—disciplined, clean, and thriving.
The artisans were stunned.
Every soldier here spoke gently, calling them "uncle" and "elder brother."
One young militiaman even said with a grin, "Don't be afraid of us. Our parents are commoners too. We are the people's soldier-sons."
Those words pierced deeply. The salt workers had never heard such kindness from men in uniform. Government soldiers only cursed, extorted, and stole. But here, soldiers helped carry loads and fetched water for the old.
By the time the tour ended, their minds were made up.
A group of artisans gathered before Xing Honglang. Their leader stepped forward and bowed deeply.
"Commander Xing, we've discussed it. We've all decided to follow you from now on."
Xing Honglang smiled, her tone warm yet commanding. "Good. You'll be treated fairly here."
The spokesman hesitated, then added, "If we carry these fifty catties home, the officials will take ninety percent of it as tax or bribe. So… we'd like to leave the grain here for now. Once we return to fetch our families, could Commander Xing use some silver to bribe the guards and let us escape quietly? After that, we'll all come to Xiao Lake to make salt."
Xing Honglang nodded without hesitation.
"Agreed. A gentleman's word is as swift as a galloping horse. I'll send a cavalry squad to escort you home and have Tie Niaofei bribe the guards. Once your families are safe, come to Xiao Lake. Work honestly, and I'll never treat you unjustly."
Her words carried the weight of iron—and the promise of a new beginning.