With the serious matters finally settled, Li Daoxuan turned to face the women and children huddled inside the stone house.
Soldiers stepped forward and distributed military rations.
The women and children ate ravenously. As their stomachs filled, the panic gripping their hearts gradually loosened.
These dozen or so women and children could no longer stay in Houjia Village.
In such turbulent times, without men to shield them, a group like this had no chance of surviving on their own.
Their homes were already gone.
From this moment on, their only path was to drift.
Li Daoxuan lowered his voice. "Do you have anywhere to go? Relatives, perhaps? Your maiden homes?"
The women shook their heads in unison.
"No."
Li Daoxuan asked again, "Then… what are your plans?"
The women looked up at him.
Their gazes were strange—hesitant, fearful, yet strangely resolute.
Li Daoxuan felt a sharp chill creep up his spine.
Before he could speak again, the women suddenly dropped to their knees as one.
"Please, Master," they said together. "Take us in. We are willing to be concubines or maids. From today onward, we will belong to you."
Li Daoxuan froze for a moment.
Then he sighed and shook his head.
"I cannot take you in," he said gently. "But my territory can. Come back with my people. They will arrange a proper place for you."
The women exchanged uneasy glances, fear flickering across their faces.
One of them gathered her courage and asked softly, "Master… will you go back with us? If you are not there… we are a little afraid."
Li Daoxuan smiled faintly.
"Don't worry," he said. "Once you are within my territory, I am everywhere."
The women did not truly understand his words.
But they had no power over their fates. Fearful yet obedient, they followed the Gao Family Village logistics team as instructed.
Their future lay ahead like a blank page.
They had no idea where they were being taken.
Along the way, the women were extremely cautious, walking with heads lowered, terrified that the logistics soldiers might mistreat them.
But before long, they realized their fears were unnecessary.
The discipline of the Gao Family Village logistics troops far surpassed anything they had ever seen in the Ming army.
Not a single soldier spoke improperly to them. No wandering glances. No crude jokes.
Half a day passed peacefully.
Then came mealtime.
The logistics team halted at an abandoned village. After inspecting the well and confirming there was clean water, they decided to camp there.
Some soldiers fetched water. Others gathered firewood and set up cooking fires.
Everyone moved with practiced efficiency.
The women and children swallowed nervously.
They were hungry again.
Yet none of them dared to ask for food.
They shrank into a corner, hoping to remain unnoticed. What if the soldiers had forgotten them entirely? What if asking reminded them of their existence and brought trouble instead?
Just as they huddled there, the logistics captain approached.
"Everyone," he called gently, "come over. Dinner is ready."
The women flinched.
The captain smiled kindly.
His name was Wang Chan. Because he had graduated from Gao Family Village School and could read and calculate, he had given himself a courtesy nickname: Zhuge Wang Chan.
"Don't be afraid," Zhuge Wang Chan said. "I won't harm you. Oh—right. Let me show you something."
He took two steps forward and pointed at his chest.
Embroidered on his tunic was the image of Dao Xuan Tianzun.
The women stared.
At first, they didn't recognize it.
Then realization dawned.
That face… isn't that the same person who charged into Houjia Village and stood alone at the stone house door?
The embroidery blurred some details, but the resemblance was unmistakable.
Their fear eased, just a little.
Zhuge Wang Chan beckoned again. "Come. We've set aside a separate pot for you. The water is already heating. It'll boil soon. This pot is just for you dozen people. Cook however you like."
He placed a bag of flour on the ground.
After a brief hesitation, he added two bamboo boxes of luncheon meat.
Then he retreated several steps.
Like someone feeding wary stray cats.
The method worked.
The women cautiously approached.
They opened the flour bag. Even less than half a bag was more than enough for all of them.
Their eyes brightened.
Then they opened the bamboo boxes.
Inside were neatly cut cubes of meat.
"Ah!" several women gasped. "Meat!"
Zhuge Wang Chan smiled. "You should cook it yourselves. We men can barely manage edible food. What you make will definitely taste better."
With that, he turned and walked back to his unit.
The women hurriedly thanked him, then gathered around the pot.
Hands flew.
Their cooking skills were leagues above the soldiers'. Before long, a thick flour porridge simmered, fragrant and rich.
Though no one taught them how to prepare luncheon meat, they instinctively diced it finely and tossed it into the pot.
Soon, steam rose.
When the lid was lifted, the aroma drifted through the camp.
The women first served bowls to their children, then to themselves.
As they ate, tears slid silently down their faces.
Such good food…
If only we could eat like this again tomorrow…
That wish was quickly fulfilled.
When evening came and it was time to eat again, Zhuge Wang Chan returned with the same provisions.
This time, the women's fear vanished completely.
Watching the logistics soldiers clumsily prepare their own meals, several women couldn't help shaking their heads.
One of them stepped forward. "Big Brother, let us help you cook. We cannot keep eating your food for free. It makes us feel ashamed."
And so, the logistics camp grew lively.
The soldiers sat to the side, watching as the women busied themselves.
As their courage returned, the women began chatting.
One of them looked at Zhuge Wang Chan curiously. "Big Brother, you seem like a scholar."
Zhuge Wang Chan straightened a little, pride flickering across his face. "All logistics captains in Gao Family Village are educated. Logistics work involves documents, calculations, and reports. To be a captain, one must at least graduate from elementary school."
The woman blinked. "Elementary school…? Then tell me—who is more capable? You, or a xiucai?"
Zhuge Wang Chan laughed heartily. "In literary essays, I'm inferior to a xiucai. But when it comes to mathematics, I'm stronger."
She didn't understand "literary essays" or "mathematics."
But she understood one thing clearly.
This man—
He was a match for a scholar.