With the golden hand still looming in the sky like an unblinking eye, flintlock rifles leveled from the ramparts, and Bai Yuan's soft-spoken but lethal reminders echoing in their ears, the five thousand former rebels did not dare stir up even a ripple.
They obeyed.
Unquestioningly.
Step by step, they were marched according to the arrangements of Gao Family Village.
They passed through the fertile farmlands of Heyang County, where wheat swayed like waves under the sun. They walked past the orderly, prosperous lanes of Gao Family Village itself—neat houses, busy workshops, smoke curling gently from chimneys.
The rebels stared as they walked.
No screaming.
No starvation.
No corpses by the roadside.
It felt unreal.
Finally, they entered the mountain range of Huanglong, descending into a wide valley enclosed by tall walls.
A sign stood at the entrance.
Labor Reform Valley
And there—
Their families.
The reunion detonated like thunder.
"Oh—husband! You're alive!"
"Wife! Son! Are you hurt? Did they beat you?"
"You bastard!"
A grey-haired old woman leapt forward, rattan cane raised.
"You unfilial swine! You abandoned your own mother and ran off with Wang Jiayin? Kneel! If I don't break your legs today, I don't deserve to be called your mother!"
The son yelped and bolted. The old woman chased, cane whistling through the air.
Children cried. Women laughed and sobbed at the same time. Men knelt, slapped themselves, begged forgiveness.
Chaos ruled the valley.
It took two full hours before order slowly returned.
Once the tears dried and the shock settled, the former rebels began to truly look around.
The valley was vast.
Colorful houses lined the slopes. Smoke rose from communal kitchens. The air smelled—not of rot or blood—but of cooked grain.
Their families looked… well.
Thin, yes. Tired, yes.
But alive. Fed.
Nobody had been abused.
The price, however, was clear.
Everyone worked.
Women operated strange roaring machines—steam-powered textile looms—feeding in raw cotton and pulling out bolts of clean, tight fabric faster than any hand loom could dream of.
Others bound books. Paste brushed carefully along spines. Covers wrapped. Cotton thread tied. Stacks dried, then loaded onto carts.
The elderly washed vegetables, cooked meals, or wove bamboo into baskets and household goods.
And the children—
The rebels froze.
Children sat in neat rows, inside bright classrooms.
Reciting aloud.
"Man at birth, is naturally good…"
"Zhao, Qian, Sun, Li…"
"One plus one equals two…"
The rebels stared like they'd seen ghosts.
Studying?
Here?
In a prison?
"This place is wrong," one muttered, voice shaking. "Even the officials never treated us this well."
He glanced at the high walls. The patrols with flintlocks.
"Other than being unable to leave… it feels like a dream."
"Hey, newcomer!"
A voice barked.
He turned.
A broad-shouldered man stood there, scarred face, sharp eyes. A crowd clustered around him instinctively.
Boss, the rebel thought instantly.
He hurried over and bowed. "Big Brother, do you need something?"
The man grinned. "Name's Chen Baihu. Used to be border army at Guyuan. I manage things here."
His smile didn't reach his eyes.
"You listen to me, you'll live comfortably. You don't—my fists will explain."
The rebel nearly jumped out of his skin. "Boss Chen! I'm Liu Bawan. From now on, I follow you!"
Chen Baihu laughed. "Smart. You're dismissed."
Liu Bawan turned to leave—then hesitated.
"Boss… there's something I don't understand."
Chen Baihu waved. "Speak."
Liu Bawan swallowed. "Why teach our kids to read? This is a prison. Why go through the trouble?"
Chen Baihu laughed so hard he slapped his thigh.
"Isn't it obvious?" he said. "From now on, every one of us works for Dao Xuan Tianzun."
"The Tianzun spared your lives. This is repayment."
He leaned closer.
"If that's the case, wouldn't it be better if your children were smarter? More useful? When they grow up, they'll serve the Tianzun even better."
Liu Bawan's chest tightened.
They're planning that far ahead?
Not just tomorrow… not even the day after… but a generation from now?
His previous bosses had only thought about their next meal. A truly ambitious one might consider eating three days later.
This place was different.
"Boss," Liu Bawan whispered, "this isn't government land, is it?"
Chen Baihu snorted. "The government? Please. Could officials ever be this competent?"
"Then… this belongs to Boss Xing?"
Chen Baihu burst out laughing. "Boss Xing? She's a local leader at best."
He straightened.
"The true master here is Dao Xuan Tianzun. Beneath him are the Thirty-Six Heavenly Spirits and Seventy-Two Earthly Fiends—the 108 Generals of Gao Family Village."
Liu Bawan went numb.
"One hundred and eight… bosses?"
Chen Baihu shrugged. "I only know a few. Old Devil of Guyuan. Lao Nanfeng. Dian Dengzi from Qingjian."
Liu Bawan's eyes widened. "Dian Dengzi? That Dian Dengzi? A terrifying figure!"
"Terrifying my ass," Chen Baihu scoffed. "Here, he barely ranks."
Somewhere far away—
"Achoo!"
Zhao Sheng, overseeing construction at Gudu Ferry, rubbed his nose. "Who's slandering me?"
Liu Bawan dared ask, "Anyone else?"
Chen Baihu waved him off. "You'll find out in time."
The newcomers were quickly absorbed.
The next morning, before dawn, gongs rang.
They marched.
Picks swung.
Hammers fell.
Five thousand new bodies poured into the roadworks.
Unlike free villagers, these men couldn't take breaks at will. No leave. No resignations.
Work assignments were absolute.
Slackers were dragged out and "educated" by Chen Baihu and the senior inmates.
Efficiency exploded.
Even Gao Family Village's elite crews couldn't keep up.
From dawn till dusk, chants thundered through the valley:
Deep in mountains, hidden riches sleep,
We break the earth, a promise we keep.
Hammer on stone, strike after strike,
Hoes cut soil in endless lines alike.
Every callus marks the road we pave,
Our future is built—by hands we gave.
Sweat fell.
Stone cracked.
And under the watchful gaze of Dao Xuan Tianzun,
futures—quite literally—were being built.