The moment the words left the Puppet Dao Xuan Tianzun's mouth, the atmosphere in the tent froze.
"Wang Jiayin's main force has already reached Qinshui County."
Every leader stiffened.
Qinshui County was uncomfortably close to Gudu Ferry.
And worse—Wang Jiayin's army was never a single, neat formation. Wherever his main force went, it acted like a hive disturbed by a stick. Within a radius of several hundred li, all manner of rebel factions would emerge like ants from cracked ground:
Zijing Liang.
The Chuang King.
Lao Huihui.
Cao Cao.
The Eight Great Kings of the Southern Camp.
The Eight Great Kings of the Western Camp.
They didn't march shoulder-to-shoulder with Wang Jiayin—but they never strayed far either. Hundreds of thousands of rebels, scattered yet connected, rolling across Shanxi like a plague cloud.
Xing Honglang spread out a map, her fingers tightening.
"Our Xiao Lake is in danger."
Everyone understood immediately.
Xiao Lake had no official garrison. Only salt makers—hundreds of them—who had quietly established a salt village there. The location was remote, poor, and ignored by officials, which was exactly why it had survived.
But rebels loved places like that.
Empty on the books. Full in reality.
If even a small rebel detachment stumbled upon the salt village, the outcome would be obvious—and bloody.
"We can't evacuate them," Zhao Sheng said grimly. "The soda ash factory at Gao Family Village needs a constant salt supply. If production stops, everything downstream collapses. But keeping them there right now is far too dangerous."
Zao Ying spoke without hesitation.
"I'll go first. I'll take the Cavalry Battalion and station them at the salt village temporarily. If it's a small band of rebels, I'll wipe them out. If it's a large force—"
She paused.
"I'll load the salt makers onto the horses and run."
"Good," Xing Honglang said immediately. "I'll bring the infantry behind you as backup."
Zao Ying clasped her fists, turned, and strode out. Moments later, three hundred cavalry thundered into motion, hooves drumming like war drums as they raced toward Xiao Lake.
Halfway there, Zao Ying frowned.
Clatter. Clatter-clatter.
Every time her horse moved, she heard a strange wooden knocking sound.
She turned her head.
The Puppet Dao Xuan Tianzun was sitting squarely on the horse's rump, bobbing up and down. Every joint creaked faintly, wooden blocks colliding rhythmically.
Zao Ying nearly leapt out of her saddle.
"Tianzun?! When did you get on the horse?!"
Li Daoxuan replied calmly, "The moment you mounted."
Zao Ying flushed. "If I'd known, I would never have let you sit back there. I should have had you sit in front—carefully held—"
Absolutely not, Li Daoxuan thought.
A giant female gorilla hugging a puppet god? That's not a divine image. That's a horror story.
Outwardly, he remained serene. "This position is fine. Do not concern yourself."
Zao Ying hesitated. "But if you leave, the Gudu Ferry won't have a Tianzun statue. Everyone will feel uneasy."
"They'll make another one," Li Daoxuan said lightly.
Zao Ying nodded and urged her horse onward, though with the Tianzun riding behind her, she felt both nervous—and inexplicably more responsible.
They arrived at Xiao Lake swiftly.
The salt village had grown rapidly over the past months. Thatched huts clustered near the shore. Salt-drying ponds reflected the sky. A bamboo fence ringed the settlement—not much, but better than nothing.
The salt makers were busy at work.
Their salt was purchased directly by Gao Family Village: ten copper coins per jin, five times the official price. If they didn't want money, they could take grain instead.
It was the kind of deal that turned desperation into motivation.
When the cavalry appeared, the salt makers rushed forward excitedly.
"Leader Zao is here again!"
"Leader Zao!"
"Why so many cavalry this time?"
"Is something wrong?"
"Are the officials coming?"
Even fools could sense danger when three hundred cavalry showed up unannounced.
Seeing everyone alive and unharmed, Zao Ying finally exhaled. "Good. You're all safe—for now. Wang Jiayin's army has reached Qinshui County. Leader Xing sent me to protect you."
The salt makers were deeply moved.
"With Leader Xing watching over us, we must have accumulated virtue for generations!" one said earnestly.
Another added, "What we're really worried about are the salt makers at Xie Lake. They haven't moved. Xie Lake is too big—it's an obvious target."
Zao Ying's heart sank.
They were right.
Hedong Circuit guarded Xie Lake—but the Salt Administration Bureau's soldiers were infamous. If Wang Jiayin wanted that salt, those troops wouldn't last an hour.
Rebels needed salt.
A lot of it.
As she hesitated, the Puppet Dao Xuan Tianzun spoke.
"Send scouts to Xie Lake. If the Hedong troops fail, the salt makers there will suffer. Anyone we are capable of saving—we must save."
Zao Ying's eyes lit up. "As you command, Dao Xuan Tianzun!"
A scout team of ten was dispatched immediately.
They were all veteran riders—former bandits, sharp-eyed and faster than rumors. Light armor, bows on their backs, blades at their sides. They rode hard toward Xie Lake.
The lake stretched for tens of li. Calm. Deceptively calm.
No visible rebels—yet.
The scouts split up, circling the shoreline, watching, listening.
Meanwhile, at Hedong Circuit.
Tie Niaofei swaggered through the military barracks as if it were his own courtyard.
Though a salt smuggler, he walked openly among the soldiers. They greeted him cheerfully.
"Leader Tie!"
"Made another fortune recently?"
"Next salt run, don't forget your brothers!"
Tie Niaofei smiled, clasping his fists.
"Of course. If I eat, you eat."
Inwardly, he spat.
A pack of greedy dogs.
He entered the Salt Administration Bureau official's residence. The official sat comfortably in a large chair, smiling like he'd just seen a cartload of silver.
"Ah, Master Tie," the official beamed. "What profitable business brings you here today?"
Tie Niaofei smiled wider.
And behind that smile—
The storm was already gathering.