Smoke rose from Wenshui County.
Not the gentle wisps of cooking fires—but thick, choking black smoke.
From more than a mile away, Chen Yuanbo could already see it. The county seat lay ahead like a corpse picked clean by crows. The city walls had collapsed entirely, reduced to jagged heaps of rubble. More than half the buildings had been burned to the ground, and even now, several of the remaining structures continued to belch dark smoke into the sky.
"Still burning?" Chen Yuanbo muttered, disbelief tightening his chest. "Zhang Xianzhong looted this place days ago. How could fires still be raging?"
Within him, a calm yet ancient presence stirred.
Dao Xuan Tianzun spoke quietly from within his chest.
"The fires set by Zhang Xianzhong would have died out long ago," the voice said. "What still burns… was ignited recently."
Chen Yuanbo's heart sank. "Then who else would be setting fires?"
Dao Xuan Tianzun let out a long sigh. "You already know the answer."
Chen Yuanbo's expression darkened.
He had guessed correctly.
And that was what made it unbearable.
"Move!" he barked suddenly. "Run!"
He broke into a sprint, the five hundred militia surging after him, boots pounding the ground as they raced toward the dying county.
Where the city gate once stood—
There was no gate.
Only a gaping hole in the ruins, like a mouth torn open by violence. Inside, the streets were clogged with charred beams and shattered tiles. Houses lined both sides, gutted, blackened, stretching endlessly inward like a graveyard of homes.
They charged deeper, toward the only district not yet fully engulfed. Smoke had only just begun to rise there. If they arrived even a moment later, this last pocket of the town would be lost.
Then they saw it.
A crowd.
Tattered, skeletal figures—common folk, unmistakably so—were brawling in front of the last surviving block.
There was no skill, no formation. Just desperation.
Sticks and broken boards clashed wildly.
Ping—pong—ping—pong.
Curses, screams, and sobbing tangled together, while behind them, houses continued to burn, flames crackling hungrily as if eager to devour the rest.
Chen Yuanbo felt his chest tighten.
So it wasn't bandits.
It was the townspeople themselves.
A theft. A handful of grain. A spark that ignited madness.
With no officials, no authority, no food—Wenshui County had fully regressed into the law of the jungle. Stripped bare, human nature revealed itself without restraint: arson, looting, violence, destruction. Everyone fighting everyone else.
Chen Yuanbo felt dizzy.
Dao Xuan Tianzun spoke again, steady as ever.
"Fire a warning shot. Order must be seized before it can exist."
Chen Yuanbo spun and pointed upward. "Fire!"
A militia soldier raised his rifle.
CRACK!
The gunshot tore through the chaos like thunder.
Instantly, the fighting stopped.
The townsfolk froze, eyes wide with terror, staring at the sight before them—hundreds of armored men, rifles leveled, faces cold and disciplined. Power radiated from the formation like an iron wall.
A heartbeat later, the crowd screamed and scattered, fleeing deeper into the district like startled birds.
"Halt!" Chen Yuanbo roared. "Stop running!"
They didn't stop.
So he changed tactics.
"I am Chen Yuanbo," he thundered, voice ringing across the ruins, "the newly appointed Magistrate of Wenshui County! Disobey me, and you'll each receive twenty strokes of the heavy staff!"
That did it.
As if struck by lightning, the fleeing figures froze mid-step.
Fear of officials was carved into the bones of commoners in this era.
Order—thin, fragile order—returned.
Chen Yuanbo waved his hand. Militia squads immediately rushed to extinguish the fires, while others rounded up the scattered townsfolk and herded them forward.
"Why were you fighting?" Chen Yuanbo demanded.
A middle-aged man shouted, "They stole our rice!"
"They stole our flour first!" another yelled back.
The argument reignited instantly.
"Enough!" Chen Yuanbo barked, raising his hand. "Reconcile. Each group gets three catties of flour. Anyone who keeps arguing gets nothing—not a single ounce."
Silence.
Then smiles.
In the blink of an eye, sworn enemies became brothers-in-arms.
Chen Yuanbo exhaled slowly. Fortunately… my time as a strategist in Puzhou taught me how to deal with people. Otherwise, this would have been hell.
"How many people are left in the city?" he asked. "Speak plainly."
The middle-aged man swallowed. "Reporting to the Esteemed Magistrate… nine-tenths of the population is gone. Fewer than… fewer than seven hundred remain."
A collective intake of breath followed.
Even Dao Xuan Tianzun stirred.
This level of slaughter… excessive, even by chaos' standards.
"And the countryside?" Chen Yuanbo pressed. "What of the villages outside the walls?"
The man shook his head helplessly. "We don't know. No one has dared leave."
Chen Yuanbo understood. Survival alone had consumed them. There had been no room for curiosity—only hunger and fear.
He immediately dispatched scouts in three directions: north, east, and west. They were to assess the countryside and track any remaining bandit movements.
Standing amid the ruins, staring at the hollow-eyed survivors, Chen Yuanbo felt a flicker of panic.
No wonder the court couldn't find a single official willing to take this post.
This was a hell-difficulty start.
Then Dao Xuan Tianzun spoke again, firm and unyielding.
"Chen Yuanbo. Steady yourself. Tell me—how many people did Gao Family Village begin with?"
Chen Yuanbo froze.
Then his eyes lit up.
"Forty-two," he said. "Gao Family Village started with only forty-two people."
"And now?" Dao Xuan Tianzun continued. "You have seven hundred civilians. Five hundred militia. And students trained in the Heavenly Book. What is there to fear?"
Chen Yuanbo lowered his head. "The Dao Xuan Tianzun speaks true. I was small-minded."
He slapped his cheeks sharply, once, twice, forcing clarity back into his thoughts.
Then he turned to the crowd and declared loudly, "My name is Chen Yuanbo! I am the Magistrate of Wenshui County! From this day forward, I will protect you!"
The townsfolk stared at him, hollow-eyed, disbelief etched into every face.
Chen Yuanbo didn't wait for faith.
"Distribute the grain."
Carts rolled forward. Two thousand catties of grain—enough for three catties per person—were handed out with near-perfect precision.
The effect was immediate.
With food in hand, backs straightened. Eyes regained light.
"Thank you, Esteemed Magistrate!" the crowd cried, bowing deeply.
Chen Yuanbo surveyed the ruined county.
With only seven hundred people, total restoration was impossible. He needed priorities.
Gao Family Village had supplies. Productivity could wait.
Security could not.
"Listen carefully," he announced. "After you eat, every able-bodied person will rebuild the city walls. They don't need to be tall—but they must surround the town. Two meters high. And the city gate must be restored."
His gaze hardened.
"Only behind walls can order survive."