July, Chongzhen Year Four.
Summer had fully settled in.
The Yellow River breeze, once cool and refreshing, now carried a dry heat that clung to the skin. Even the river itself looked languid, its surface shimmering lazily under the sun.
At Gudu Ferry, an utterly unthinkable sight was unfolding.
The Dao Xuan Tianzun—in puppet form—was crouched by the riverbank, flicking pebbles across the water.
Tap.
Skip.
Skip.
Skip—
Another stone skittered away in neat arcs.
Li Daoxuan seemed… pleased.
Nearby, villagers pretended not to stare. No one dared comment on the fact that a divine existence was clearly killing time like a bored kid.
Then—
Hooves thundered.
A horse burst into the water fortress at full gallop. The rider didn't even dismount before shouting at the top of his lungs:
"Disaster! Disaster! Wang Guozhong has been appointed Deputy Commander of Puzhou by the imperial court! He'll take office any day now!"
The shout hit the fortress like a dropped gong.
Villagers froze.
Militia heads snapped up.
Someone nearly dropped a basket of grain.
Within moments, Xing Honglang, Zao Ying, Lao Nanfeng, and the rest were already striding toward the council hall, expressions tight.
Only Gao Chuwu remained behind.
He stared at the river, glanced at the Dao Xuan Tianzun, then bent down, picked up a stone, and carefully mimicked the puppet's motion.
Flick—
Skip.
Skip.
Skip.
The stone bounced three times before sinking.
Gao Chuwu clapped like a child who'd discovered fire. "Haha! Dao Xuan Tianzun, did you see that? Three skips!"
Li Daoxuan chuckled. "Very good. Now go to the council hall."
Gao Chuwu blinked. "Huh? Why?"
"Because," Li Daoxuan said mildly, "Wang Guozhong is about to attack."
"…Huh?"
The words took a moment to land.
"…WHAT?!"
Gao Chuwu finally snapped awake.
Yongji belonged to Puzhou.
Gudu Ferry fell under Puzhou's jurisdiction.
If Wang Guozhong was now Deputy Commander of Puzhou, his arrival was only a matter of days.
He scooped up the Dao Xuan Tianzun, planted the puppet on his shoulder, and bolted for the council hall.
By the time he arrived, the meeting had already begun.
Xing Honglang stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, her tone sharp.
"Wang Guozhong betrayed Wang Jiayin and defected to Cao Wenzhao. The court rewarded him with the post of Deputy Commander of Puzhou. Puzhou City is less than thirty li from us. Once he's stationed there, it's impossible he won't notice Gudu Ferry."
She paused.
"He can attack us at any time."
Zao Ying followed up immediately. "The intelligence says he commands three thousand elite troops. Handpicked. Many are former border soldiers and garrison veterans. These aren't starving bandits. If they target our water fortress, it will be trouble."
Xing Honglang nodded. "We have a bookstore in Puzhou. Multiple merchants supply us through the city. And our salt from Xiao Lake must pass through Puzhou."
Her lips curled slightly. "If Wang Guozhong cuts that route, we'll be strangled."
Gao Chuwu listened, brow furrowing harder by the second.
Finally, he blurted, "Wait—he's just one traitor, right? Why don't we just kill him?"
The room fell silent.
Lao Nanfeng sighed and patted Gao Chuwu's shoulder like one might soothe a confused child.
"Killing him isn't difficult," he said gently. "The problem is what comes after."
He glanced around the table. "We've stayed hidden at the Shanxi–Shaanxi border. Quiet. Low-profile. That's why the court hasn't fixated on us like they did with Wang Jiayin."
He leaned closer. "If we openly strike an imperial deputy commander… that silence shatters. Then it's not Wang Guozhong we're facing—it's the full attention of the court."
Gao Chuwu finally understood.
They weren't afraid of Wang Guozhong.
They were afraid of becoming visible.
The room sank into heavy silence.
Instinctively, several people glanced toward the corner where the Dao Xuan Tianzun usually sat.
Outside the box—
Li Daoxuan was already scrolling.
A quick search confirmed everything.
Historically, after Wang Jiayin's death, Wang Guozhong was indeed appointed Deputy Commander of Puzhou. And once he donned official robes, he became more imperial than the empire itself.
Former rebel.
Newly loyal dog.
He spent years zealously suppressing peasant uprisings, currying favor, slaughtering former comrades without blinking.
He never defected again.
Until years later, when Li Guo, Li Zicheng's nephew, defeated him and executed him in Suide.
Which meant—
This was not someone who would conveniently switch sides again.
Li Daoxuan frowned.
Then—
"I've got it."
The Dao Xuan Tianzun spoke.
Inside the box, every head snapped up.
"Send an envoy to Yang He," Li Daoxuan said calmly. "Tell him Xing Honglang wishes to accept imperial amnesty."
The room froze.
"…Huh?"
"Yang He will come personally to pacify her," Li Daoxuan continued. "On his way—Wang Guozhong must escort him."
A pause.
"Intercept Wang Guozhong. Defeat him."
Silence.
Then—
Lao Nanfeng burst out laughing. "Hahahaha! The Dao Xuan Tianzun truly enjoys toying with mortals! This move—clean, elegant, and perfectly aligned with court behavior."
Xing Honglang's eyes gleamed. "Excellent. Let's do it."
Meanwhile—
Supreme Commander Yang He was drowning in misery.
Every day brought new rebellions. Every night brought new headaches.
Pacification had become a cruel joke.
Shen Yikui was barely stable. Other pacified rebels rebelled again almost on schedule. Counties fell, petitions piled up, and the court demanded answers he didn't have.
His temples throbbed.
"Report!"
A subordinate rushed in. "A rugged man seeks audience. Claims to be a messenger from Xing Honglang of Yongji."
Yang He searched his memory. "…Ah. The salt smuggler. Small force. Never attacked cities. Never burned or looted."
He frowned. "Why would she contact me?"
The subordinate lowered his voice. "He was extremely polite. Possibly… seeking amnesty."
Yang He's fatigue evaporated.
"Seeking amnesty?" He laughed aloud. "Excellent! Truly excellent!"
He stood. "Bring him in immediately!"
The envoy entered—Old Zhu, weathered, sharp-eyed, respectful.
He bowed deeply. "Supreme Commander. My leader, Xing Honglang, wishes to abandon the dark path, accept an official post, and bring honor to her ancestors."
Yang He smiled like a man offered water in the desert.
"If Chieftain Xing is willing to reform," he said warmly, "how could I refuse?"
He turned sharply. "Prepare an escort! We go to Yongji!"
Then paused. "Notify Imperial Censor Wu Shen—have him bring funds and provisions—"
"No need," Old Zhu said smoothly. "My leader has traded salt for years. She has silver. No relief required."
Yang He nearly laughed in relief.
No resettlement funds.
No budget nightmare.
"Very well!" he declared. "We proceed with the pacification ceremony at once."
Far away—
Under the amused gaze of Dao Xuan Tianzun,
a loyal imperial butcher was about to walk straight into a carefully arranged ambush.
And he wouldn't even realize it.