When Chen Ergou woke up that morning, he thought he was walking into freedom — farmland, sunlight, a new life.
By noon, he realized he'd just traded one mountain hideout for another — only this one had walls and archers.
He squinted around the "settlement."
Except for the guards, everyone wore the same grayish cotton rags.
And the smell — not quite prison, not quite workshop, but something in between: the scent of sweat, bamboo, and resignation.
"Qi Cheng! Is that you?" he shouted, spotting a familiar scarred face hauling a basket. "Didn't you ride with Wang Zuogua's band? What are you doing here?"
Qi Cheng looked up, oddly serene. "Ah, Brother Ergou. Long time. I'm in… labor reform."
"Labor what?"
"Labor reform," Qi Cheng repeated solemnly. "We work to wash away our sins. The Tianzun teaches: those who have burned and killed must now weave and plant. Boundless blessings."
Chen Ergou blinked. "What the hell happened to you? Last I saw you, you were cutting heads, not weaving cloth."
Qi Cheng smiled faintly. "That was before enlightenment."
"Enlightenment my ass! They said we'd be settled, given land to till!"
Qi Cheng sighed. "Settle? You think anyone's giving bandits free farms? No. We've sinned too much. But here—" he gestured at the humming rows of looms and dye vats "—we get food, shelter, and work. You labor, you live. You rebel, you disappear."
Chen Ergou's jaw dropped. "So we got tricked."
Qi Cheng nodded, still smiling that eerie, devotional smile. "But you'll get used to it. Once you've eaten three steady meals and stopped running from soldiers, rebellion starts to look overrated."
"Boundless blessings," Chen Ergou muttered, more like a curse this time.
Meanwhile, on the watchtower above, General He Renlong stood with arms crossed, frowning at the organized chaos below.
"Ten thousand prisoners," he said. "And not a single riot? What kind of witchcraft is this?"
Beside him, Zhong Gaoliang clasped his hands behind his back, wearing the polite smile of a man who knew more than he'd say.
"It's not witchcraft, General. It's routine. We don't suppress them with fear. We give them purpose. A hungry man fights; a fed one works. And if he believes it's for redemption—well, that's even better."
He Renlong squinted down. "I see women weaving, old men making baskets. Where are the guards?"
Zhong gestured. "They're the guards."
He Renlong was silent a moment, then grunted. "You teach them to make cloth and bamboo goods. And the classes?"
"Morality lessons," Zhong said with a perfectly straight face. "Cause and effect, good and evil, karmic retribution. You'd be surprised how many ex-bandits discover virtue once they realize it comes with dinner."
He Renlong rubbed his temple. "I don't know if that's brilliant or insane."
"Why not both?" Zhong replied, smiling faintly.
By dusk, He Renlong had seen enough. He mounted his horse, shaking his head. "You people in Chengcheng County are either saints or swindlers. Either way, these ten thousand devils are your problem now. I'm going back to Yan'an."
The march back was fast and quiet. Without prisoners to wrangle, the army moved like wind over stone.
When He Renlong reported to Governor Hong Chengchou, the man listened in thoughtful silence.
"So they've imprisoned them all?" Hong asked, brows furrowed.
"Yes, Governor. Over ten thousand men, women, and elders. But they're not starving. They're weaving cloth, building tools, even learning morality."
Hong Chengchou leaned back in his chair, tapping his fan against his palm.
"Ah… so that's how Chengcheng County sustains them."
His tone turned wry. "They've turned our rebel problem into an industry."
He Renlong frowned. "Industry?"
Hong chuckled softly. "You haven't been to Jiangnan, have you? Down there, they've been running silk workshops for decades — all women, all laboring sixteen hours a day for a handful of rice. Profit is the only gospel. Chengcheng County has simply found a clever way to get free workers."
He looked up, eyes glinting. "Brilliant, really. We capture the rebels, they convert them into spinning hands. They feed them just enough to live and call it 'redemption.' A perfect cycle."
He Renlong was aghast. "So they're using them for profit?"
"Of course," Hong said, smiling coldly. "But why should I care? These rebels would've been corpses anyway. If someone can turn dead weight into cloth and grain, let them. From now on—" he turned to his aides— "any surrendered rabble from Yansui or beyond, send them all to Chengcheng County. Let them all 'repent through weaving.'"
He Renlong hesitated. "And if Chengcheng can't handle more?"
Hong Chengchou snapped his fan shut with a sharp whack. "Then let's see how much 'Boundless Blessing' their Tianzun truly has."