"Boom!"
The moment the announcement was made, the one hundred thousand captives erupted like a pot of boiling water.
Joy spread through the crowd faster than wildfire.
Soon the people began searching through the prisoners on their own.
"You! You were in the Old Eight Companies. Hao Yaoqi!"
"And you too! Old Eight Companies!"
"I recognize you!"
In the blink of an eye, more than fifty members of the Old Eight Companies were dragged out of the crowd and pushed forward.
Someone even found the final strategist of Chuang Wang, Song Xiance, hiding among the prisoners. They twisted his arms behind his back and shoved him out as well.
When Song Xiance saw Li Yan, he immediately gave a helpless smile.
"Strategist Li, the matter of Chuang Wang and Niu Jinxing plotting to kill you… I truly had no knowledge of it."
Li Yan sighed softly.
"That, I actually believe."
He looked at Song Xiance with a complicated expression.
"Mr. Song has never been a wicked man. Once, after Chuang Wang tricked a city into opening its gates, Niu Jinxing began brutally torturing the local gentry to force them to hand over their wealth. It was Mr. Song who stepped in and said, 'The celestial signs are grim, the sun is dim, punishment must cease immediately.' Because of those words, a meaningless massacre was avoided."
Beside them, Liu Maopao chuckled.
"Oh? If that's the case, he sounds a lot like our Third Steward."
Li Yan blinked.
"Third Steward? Who is that?"
Liu Maopao grinned.
"The most famous softhearted fool in our village."
Since Li Yan himself said Song Xiance was not a bad person, the people of Gao Family Village had no intention of making things difficult for him.
Liu Maopao even waved him over.
"Mr. Song, any interest in joining us? We're terribly short on manpower, especially people who can read and write. Those are treated like treasure here."
Song Xiance already knew this group was not imperial troops but rather musket rebels.
Then again, he himself had always been a rebel.
Switching from one rebel army to another did not seem like much of a psychological burden.
So he bowed deeply.
"Then I look forward to your guidance."
---
At that moment, a soldier saluted Sun Chuanting.
"Report. Chuang Wang has not been found."
Sun Chuanting frowned slightly.
"He ran away again? That fellow really is good at escaping."
The soldier nodded.
"His nephew Li Guo also escaped. General Liu Zongmin is missing as well. When the hundred thousand troops scattered earlier, they must have slipped away through mountain paths during the chaos."
He paused, then added:
"We pursued very closely this time. He even abandoned many of the Old Eight Companies. He probably has only a dozen men left with him."
Sun Chuanting let out a long sigh.
"If he only has a dozen men… then he'll be impossible to find."
Even in modern times, with surveillance cameras everywhere, a dozen people escaping through mountain roads would be difficult to track.
In this era, it was simply impossible.
Sun Chuanting shook his head.
"Evil men will eventually meet their fate. He will not end well."
---
While they were chatting, another problem had appeared.
The one hundred thousand commoners who had just been released.
Yes, they were free now.
But they still had no food.
No property.
If they returned to their hometowns, they would likely starve.
What were they supposed to do?
Right at that moment, something astonishing appeared on the Yellow River north of Jinan.
A massive fleet of ships.
Every vessel was a flat motorized cargo boat.
The decks were piled high with grain.
Each ship probably carried over one hundred thousand jin of food.
When so many ships sailed together, the sight stunned everyone.
The citizens inside Jinan.
The hundred thousand freed peasants outside the city.
Even the detained Prefect of Jinan and the Embroidered Uniform Guard officials.
None of them had ever seen transportation on such a scale.
"What… what is this?"
"Why is so much grain suddenly arriving?"
---
Liu Maopao lowered his head and listened to the embroidered Tianzun on his chest.
After hearing the instructions, his eyes lit up.
He leaped onto the city wall, grabbed the metal loudspeaker from Li Yan, and shouted.
"People of the city and the countryside, listen carefully!"
"These supplies are a gift from Dao Xuan Tianzun!"
"Starting today, an operation called the Shandong Grand Development will begin!"
He gestured toward the enormous fleet behind him.
"We will recruit large numbers of workers to develop Shandong. Bridges will be repaired, roads rebuilt, and factories constructed."
"The grain on these ships will be used to pay wages!"
He raised his voice even louder.
"Recruitment begins now!"
"Laborers who perform heavy work will receive three jin of flour per day!"
"Skilled workers will earn three taels of silver per month!"
---
He had barely finished speaking.
The entire region exploded.
"I! I! Pick me!"
"I'm a carpenter!"
"I'm a mason!"
"I'm a blacksmith!"
"I can do heavy labor!"
Hands shot up everywhere.
Even one of the Prefect of Jinan's hangers-on suddenly raised his hand.
"I know carving techniques! Can I get three taels a month? If that's the salary, why would I stay a useless assistant?"
The Prefect of Jinan stared in disbelief.
"Damn it!"
---
Liu Maopao laughed.
Then he patted the shoulder of a low-ranking Embroidered Uniform Guard soldier.
"Want to join us as a soldier?"
"Monthly pay is five taels of silver. Food and lodging included. Meat with every meal. Extra subsidies during festivals."
"Oh right. There's also a fixed annual home leave."
The guard's mouth fell open.
"What? That's better than our pay in the Embroidered Uniform Guard!"
He looked around nervously.
"You… you people are rebels, right?"
Another guard beside him slapped him hard.
"Watch your mouth!"
Then he turned respectfully toward Liu Maopao.
"Speak politely to my future boss!"
He snorted.
"Anyone who pays me silver is my father. The court that owes me wages is the real rebel."
The Prefect of Jinan nearly fainted.
"Five taels a month and you call the imperial court rebels?! You people are unbelievable!"
---
Meanwhile.
South of Jinan.
At the foot of Mount Tai.
Chuang Wang, Liu Zongmin, Li Guo, and about a dozen surviving bandits from the Old Eight Companies were fleeing south in a miserable state.
Li Guo was still indignant.
"This defeat makes no sense. That Li Yan is truly a bastard. A few speeches and he scattered our hundred thousand troops."
He snorted.
"Niu Jinxing was right to want him dead. That man only ruins our army's morale."
Chuang Wang's face was dark.
"It's fine."
"Even if we only have a dozen men left now, we have faced worse before."
He spoke coldly.
"As long as we escape alive, we can lie low for a while, rebuild our strength, and rise again."
Liu Zongmin rubbed his stomach.
"First we solve the problem of food. I'm starving."
He was not the only one.
Every one of the dozen fugitives was hungry.
Li Guo suddenly looked ahead.
A small village appeared in the distance.
Perhaps a few dozen households.
His eyes lit up.
"Uncle, there's a small village ahead. Should we go in, spread the 'No Taxes' song, and recruit them?"
Chuang Wang snorted.
"Recruit my foot."
"That nonsense Li Yan used only attracts unreliable people. Once they realize 'No Taxes' is impossible, they betray us immediately."
He grinned viciously.
"Better to go back to the old ways."
"Charge in and take what we need."
Li Guo's face lit up.
"Right!"
One of the bandits laughed loudly.
"To hell with the Fengtian Changyi Battalion! I'm not serving Heaven anymore!"
"Let's go back to being the Old Eight Companies!"
"That life was much more fun!"
With savage laughter, the group of hardened bandits charged toward the small village ahead.
The village was called.
Puzhao Village.
And the battle that would soon follow was about to begin.