No sooner had Bai Yuan finished speaking than the golden-thread-embroidered statue resting against his chest suddenly chimed.
Its voice was calm, confident, and carried a faint trace of amusement.
"Don't worry. You'll have enough flintlock rifles very soon."
Bai Yuan froze for a split second, then his eyes widened.
"Ah?" he exclaimed. "The Heavenly—no, Dao Xuan Tianzun—is back? What's happening in Mengjin County?"
Li Daoxuan did not waste time.
He quickly explained everything: how the Xiaolangdi water bandits had already thrown in their lot with the Shanxi rebels, how they had slipped into Mengjin County to scout troop deployments, and how they had attempted to kidnap him in order to gather intelligence.
"Brigadier General Qin Renhong's true strength has been completely exposed," Li Daoxuan said steadily. "The Shanxi rebels will no longer hesitate. They will definitely force a crossing now."
His tone sharpened slightly.
"You need to accelerate preparations on your side."
Bai Yuan's expression turned serious. He nodded without hesitation.
"At once."
"As for the flintlock rifles," Li Daoxuan continued, "ships carrying them are already on the way."
Almost as soon as he finished speaking, someone shouted from the riverside lookout.
"They're here!"
Five massive cargo ships slowly emerged from the mist on the river.
Even at a great distance, there was no mistaking them.
The hull shape, the reinforced structure, the faint electric hum of the propulsion system—these were unmistakably Gao Family Village cargo ships.
Bai Yuan's spirits soared.
Without another word, he led his men toward the dock at a brisk pace.
The five ships soon berthed smoothly.
As soon as the gangplank was lowered, a quartermaster soldier jumped down and jogged forward, giving a crisp salute.
"Instructor Bai!" he reported loudly. "By the command of Dao Xuan Tianzun, I am here to deliver supplies!"
"One ship of newly produced flintlock rifles!"
"One ship of ammunition!"
"And three ships of new recruits!"
Bai Yuan felt his heart leap.
"A whole ship of flintlock rifles?" he said in disbelief. "So many at once? How did Gao Family Village's rifle production suddenly become this fast?"
The golden-threaded statue chuckled softly.
"The coke production experiment was successful," Li Daoxuan explained. "The new smelting furnaces are also complete. The village has begun using casting techniques to manufacture flintlock rifles. Naturally, production speed has increased dramatically."
He paused deliberately.
"However…"
That single word made Bai Yuan instinctively straighten.
"In the end, cast flintlock rifles are not as durable as forged ones," Li Daoxuan continued. "They're more prone to damage under sustained use. Treat them as low-cost, mass-produced equipment."
"Distribute them to regular troops."
"Elite units will continue using the forged rifles."
Bai Yuan immediately understood.
"I see," he said. "I'll make the arrangements right away."
Before long, news spread like wildfire.
The three thousand members of the local Xiaolangdi militia were summoned to the docks.
They didn't understand the technical differences between casting and forging. They didn't care.
All they knew was this:
They were about to receive flintlock rifles.
The raw recruits buzzed with excitement, barely able to contain themselves.
Jiang Cheng stood at the side of the ship, his voice ringing out clearly over the noise.
"Form a line!"
"Step forward in order!"
"Each man will receive one flintlock rifle and fifty rounds of ammunition!"
The response was thunderous.
"Understood!"
Crates were opened.
Rifles were handed out.
"Yours!"
"Next—this one's yours!"
"Hold it properly!"
One by one, the militia members accepted their weapons.
Their faces glowed with pride.
To them, this was more than a firearm.
It was recognition.
It meant they were no longer just hastily assembled locals with spears and sabers—they were being treated the same as Gao Family Village's core militia.
They were now real soldiers.
Excited howls echoed along the dock.
Bai Yuan watched from the side, but his brows gradually knit together.
A new concern surfaced.
He leaned closer to the quartermaster and lowered his voice.
"Three thousand flintlock rifles…" he murmured. "That amount of firepower will burn through ammunition at a terrifying rate. Tens of thousands of rounds could be expended in moments. As for ammunition—what about resupply?"
The quartermaster also lowered his voice.
"Ammunition is still a major bottleneck," he admitted. "San Shier is working on a solution. He asked me to tell you—the front lines must conserve ammunition as much as possible."
Bai Yuan's eyes widened.
"Conserve?" he hissed. "Three thousand rifles firing at once! How exactly am I supposed to conserve?"
The quartermaster smiled faintly.
"That's the art of command," he said. "Command is 'Yu.' 'Yu' is one of the Six Arts of a gentleman. Master Bai, I'm sure you'll manage."
Bai Yuan glared at him.
"You ignorant fool!" he snapped. "'Yu' refers to driving chariots and horses!"
Meanwhile, far away—
Inside the Gao Family Village prison.
Zhong Gaoliang stood before a massive crowd.
Thirty thousand people.
Elderly men with bent backs. Women with tired eyes. Children clinging quietly to their mothers.
They were the elderly, the weak, the women, and the children whom Shi Kefa—acting under Wu Shen's orders—had sent all the way from Hequ County to Gao Family Village.
They had suffered greatly.
First, they had endured the pain of being "abandoned" by their own able-bodied men. Then came the long journey—thousands of li traveled under harsh conditions, lacking food, lacking warmth, lacking certainty.
While crossing the Dragon Gate Yellow River Bridge, many of them had personally witnessed Dao Xuan Tianzun descend from the heavens, manifesting a vast bridge of divine power across the raging waters.
They could not fully understand what they had seen.
But it had shaken them to their very bones.
Those who had endured hardship knew best how precious peace was.
After arriving at the prison, they had thrown themselves into labor reform. They worked diligently, afraid of being cast out again. Every day, they knelt and prostrated themselves before the image of Dao Xuan Tianzun painted on the prison walls.
And now—
It was time.
Zhong Gaoliang raised his voice.
"Everyone," he announced, "your labor reform is complete."
He paused, then declared clearly:
"You are free."
Silence.
Not cheers.
Not cries of joy.
Just blank stares.
These were not men of ambition. They were survivors.
Freedom meant uncertainty.
After living so long within the prison's structured routine, being told to leave felt more frightening than comforting.
Where would they go?
How would they live?
Zhong Gaoliang saw their fear and quickly reassured them.
"Don't worry," he said. "Your living arrangements and work will be handled properly. You'll take the train to Gao Family Village."
"You'll live in the staff dormitories of the Gao Family Village Ordnance Bureau."
"There, you'll receive new work."
He enunciated carefully.
"Packaging bullets."
The crowd stirred, but hesitation remained.
Zhong Gaoliang added one more sentence.
"From now on, your labor will be paid. Every month, you'll receive three taels of silver."
A soft wave of sound rippled through the crowd.
"Oh…"
Zhong Gaoliang couldn't help but laugh, half amused, half exasperated.
"You're free," he said. "You can live your own lives. You'll earn wages every month. Why are you still staring at me like this?"
An old man trembled forward, supported by a stick.
"Warden Zhong," he said haltingly, "outside… is there still fighting and killing?"
His voice cracked.
"When we were outside before, there was fighting everywhere. Even my own son… he left me behind to go fight."
Zhong Gaoliang let out a long sigh.
"Everyone, rest assured," he said solemnly. "When you leave here, there will be no fighting or killing."
"You'll live in the safe haven of Gao Family Village."
"You'll earn money through honest labor."
"And the bullets you package—our soldiers will use them to end this chaos."
"Help them," he said softly. "Help us build a world where everyone can live and work in peace."
At last, understanding dawned.
Scattered cheers broke out.
Not loud.
But sincere.
They exited the prison in orderly lines.
They boarded the train in orderly lines.
Only when they arrived at Gao Family Village did they truly relax.
Images of Dao Xuan Tianzun were everywhere.
Paintings. Dolls. Clay statues. Puppets. Straw figures.
Even unbelievably bouncy silicone Heavenly Lords waved cheerfully at them.
At last, their hearts settled.
The Gao Family Village Ordnance Bureau gained thirty thousand new workers overnight.
At first, they were clumsy.
Each person could only package fifty paper cartridges a day.
But gradually, their hands grew steady.
The fastest could package a hundred rounds daily.
The slower ones managed seventy or eighty.
Thirty thousand people working together.
At last—
Ammunition production could finally keep pace with the mass production of cast flintlock rifles.