The news that Wenshui County had withstood the assault of a massive rebel army spread like wildfire through the surrounding counties.
Huaiqing Prefecture and its neighboring regions were still mired in chaos. Hundreds of thousands of rebels roamed unchecked, and the common people had no idea where safety might be found.
The moment word spread that Wenshui County had survived—and not merely survived, but stood firm—those who had lost homes, families, and livelihoods began to move.
Frightened refugees who had been hiding in ravines, forests, and abandoned villages gathered up what little they had left and headed toward Wenshui County.
Entire families moved together.
Old men, women, children.
Once they arrived, they were stunned to discover something almost unbelievable—
The Governor of Henan himself was stationed in this tiny county town.
And more astonishing still—
This battered, half-ruined county town was feeding people.
Not soup kitchens or emergency porridge alone, but real work.
Real wages.
At that moment, everyone understood.
They hadn't just come to a safe place.
They had come to the right place.
People poured in even faster.
Five thousand.
Six thousand.
Seven thousand…
The population climbed daily.
When there were too few people, Chen Yuanbo could do very little. But once the numbers surged, Chen Yuanbo—and the group of middle-school students he had brought with him—finally had room to work.
Not speeches.
Not slogans.
Announcements.
"The county government is recruiting five hundred laborers.
Duties include clearing burned dwellings, hauling stone and earth, and disposing of waste.
Daily wage: three catties of flour."
"The county government urgently requires skilled construction workers for post-disaster rebuilding.
Monthly wage: three taels of silver."
"A cement factory will soon be established. Apprentices needed.
Once able to work independently, wages will match skilled labor."
"Cooks are needed to prepare meals for workers.
The elderly, weak, women, and children will be given priority."
Skilled or unskilled—everyone had a place.
The refugees were moved to tears.
They could live here.
Truly live.
Soldiers guarded them.
Work fed them.
Safety and survival were no longer separate choices.
What were they waiting for?
Roll up sleeves. Get to work.
Wenshui County erupted with vitality.
The ruined town didn't recover—it was reborn.
One day, the city wall was heightened and reinforced.
The next, a burned district was cleared.
The next, new houses stood where ashes had been.
The speed was terrifying.
Fan Shangzheng, the Governor of Henan, stared in disbelief.
He had served as county magistrate, prefectural magistrate, prefect—climbing step by step to governor. He had handled disasters, taxes, banditry, and famine.
But he had never seen anything like this.
"Magistrate Chen," Fan Shangzheng finally asked, unable to hold back, "this operation requires a vast amount of capital. Wenshui County's treasury was plundered clean by the rebels. How can you possibly sustain this?"
Chen Yuanbo smiled calmly.
"With Xiao Qixia's help, of course. His family is wealthy enough to provide funds and supplies."
Fan Shangzheng lowered his voice. "Even if his family is rich… why would he pour money into a small county town like this?"
Chen Yuanbo sighed softly.
"For the people, Governor. Frankly speaking, in circumstances like these, the imperial court should be allocating disaster funds and distributing relief grain. But the court cannot act—and even you, as Governor, are powerless."
"So Xiao Qixia has no choice but to use his own wealth."
Fan Shangzheng fell silent.
As Governor, he could shift funds from other counties—but only tiny amounts. Enough to keep people from starving, nothing more.
Henan simply had no spare resources.
A clever cook with no rice.
He decided not to think about it further.
Fan Shangzheng's greatest headache remained Huaiqing Prefecture.
How to lift its siege?
The answer arrived faster than expected.
A force of two thousand government troops approached from the west and entered Wenshui County.
Leading them was none other than Zuo Liangyu, Vice Commander-in-Chief of Shanxi.
At last, the Shanxi army had crossed into Henan.
Why now?
Because the rebels entering Henan had terrified the provincial elite.
Led by Zhu Changxun, Prince of Fu, the gentry and nobility submitted a joint memorial requesting military aid.
And the power of that memorial exceeded even an imperial decree.
An imperial edict could be openly resisted, delayed, or hollowly obeyed.
But the interests of the gentry and the civil bureaucracy were one and the same.
Thus, the Ministry of War pushed through all obstacles and urgently redeployed Zuo Liangyu toward Huaiqing.
At the same time, Zhang Zongheng's Xuan-Da border army swept south through Yangcheng, Zezhou, Gaoping, Changzhi, and Tunliu.
And the Sichuan White Pole Soldiers were also on the move.
In an instant, the tide shifted again.
It seemed the imperial court was capable once more.
The rebels—once more—appeared to falter.
The Imperial Study.
Zhu Youjian, the Chongzhen Emperor, stared at a letter, his brows tightly knit.
A family letter.
From his uncle—Zhu Changxun, Prince of Fu.
The opening was all pleasantries and rambling trivialities.
Then the tone changed.
The imperial clan, the letter claimed, was being bullied.
A parcel of land under the Prince of Fu's jurisdiction had been forcibly occupied by a local gentry family. When rent was demanded, they refused to pay.
Occupying imperial land was a heinous crime.
He requested judgment.
Zhu Youjian couldn't help but feel both amused and irritated.
He summoned the Jinyiwei Commander.
"What is the situation at Xiaolangdi?" he asked. "How dare someone seize an imperial fief?"
The commander sighed.
"Your Majesty, Xiaolangdi has been plagued by river bandits since the late Eastern Han. Yellow Turbans once entrenched themselves there. Across dynasties, bandits were suppressed again and again, only to return."
"Though it is nominally part of the Prince of Fu's domain, his household has been unable to govern it for many years."
Zhu Youjian nodded slowly.
"So it's that sort of 'occupation.' I thought it was something serious."
The commander hesitated, then said quietly, "Even so, Your Majesty… royal dignity must not be lost."
Zhu Youjian nodded.
"Indeed. Royal dignity must not be lost."
He waved his hand.
"Inform the Governor of Henan. Reclaim the land at Xiaolangdi and return it to the Prince of Fu's household."
"As you command."
Zhu Youjian shook his head, set the matter aside, and returned to his memorials—
As if nothing of consequence had occurred.