"Conscription! Conscription!"
Across every territory controlled by Gao Family Village, the news spread like wildfire.
Fresh recruitment notices were plastered everywhere—on walls, markets, village gates, and ferry crossings—each one clearly listing the treatment and benefits offered by the Gao Family Village Militia.
Recruitment Notice
– Applicants need only pass a physical examination and a political review
– No education requirements
– Immediate provision of food and lodging upon enlistment
– Monthly military stipend: five taels of silver
– Additional welfare benefits included
– No wives issued! Absolutely none!
With Lao Nanfeng, Shi Jian, and Bai Mao all having received formal promotions, they now possessed legitimate authority to command larger formations and operate across wider regions. Naturally, Gao Family Village needed a new wave of soldiers to fill those ranks.
More importantly, the aborted pursuit of Zijing Liang had sounded an alarm.
The moment threats emerged near their own territory, Gao Family Village had been forced to recall troops immediately. This made one fact painfully clear to the upper leadership—
Their current military strength was far from sufficient.
More soldiers were urgently needed.
However, the "old revolutionaries" soon discovered a new and very real problem.
Within Gao Family Village's territory, recruitment was unexpectedly cold.
Even with the stipend raised to five taels of silver per month, volunteers trickled in at a pitiful rate.
The reason was simple.
I eat well.
I dress warmly.
Why would I risk my life?
There was an old saying deeply rooted in people's bones:
"A good man does not become a soldier, just as good iron is not used for nails."
From a modern perspective, this belief was absurd.
But in the Ming Dynasty, it was practically common sense.
Soldiers belonged to military households, a status scarcely better than that of artisan households. Profits were never theirs to share—but when blood was needed, they were always first in line.
Generation after generation had endured discrimination, scorn, and neglect.
Now, under the protection of Dao Xuan Tianzun, the common folk within Gao Family Village lived peaceful, stable lives. Who would willingly abandon such comfort to don armor and march toward death?
Compared to the early days of Gao Family Village—when hunger and chaos forced men to gamble their lives—recruitment had become vastly more difficult.
The richer and more stable they became, the harder it would be to recruit soldiers in the future.
For a time, recruitment efforts stalled completely.
Inside the main keep of Gao Family Fortress, Cheng Xu sat across from San Shier, his brow tightly furrowed.
"Steward San," Cheng Xu said bluntly, "did you not distribute enough recruitment flyers? We've been at this for nearly a month, and you've brought me only a thousand men. What use is that?"
San Shier spread his hands helplessly.
"I've distributed them until my legs nearly fell off. The benefits are already generous beyond comparison. But if people refuse to fight, what can I do? This is what one calls… willing but unable to help."
Cheng Xu raised an eyebrow.
"Then what do you propose?"
San Shier sighed deeply.
"If we want soldiers, we may have to turn to the prisons. Only the prisons can serve as our reserve camp. This is what one calls… finding a new path."
Cheng Xu frowned.
"The prisons are full of the old, the weak, the sick, and the disabled. How many of them could even hold a spear properly?"
San Shier shook his head.
"There is a batch of young, able-bodied men who have been incarcerated for quite some time. They may still be usable. Roughly five thousand of them. This is what one calls… sending charcoal in snowy weather."
Cheng Xu cursed.
"Damn it. I've known you for six or seven years, and I still can't stand the way you talk. Every time I see you, I feel like punching you."
San Shier continued calmly, unfazed.
"Do you remember when the rebels in Yan'an Prefecture surrendered to Hong Chengchou? He executed several hundred ringleaders and handed over three thousand surrendered rebels to He Renlong for escort into Prison Valley. Of those, fifteen hundred were young and strong. They've already served nearly two years and should be sufficiently reformed."
He paused, then added,
"And after Wang Jiayin died, Xing Honglang impersonated a rebel leader and brought back five thousand rebels from the mountains. All of them were able-bodied fighters and have undergone more than a year of labor reform."
San Shier concluded,
"That makes roughly seven thousand men. You'll have to screen them carefully. This is what one calls… meticulous selection."
Cheng Xu exhaled slowly.
"It seems we have no other choice."
Not long after, Cheng Xu once again headed toward Huanglong Mountain Prison.
As he entered the mountain region, his eyes swept across the surroundings—and he couldn't help but let out a surprised sound.
He had been away for too long.
Cement roads crisscrossed the mountains, winding upward like countless gray serpents. Buildings dotted the slopes in orderly clusters.
To his left stood a group of over thirty houses enclosed by a tall wall. If not for the large slogan painted across it—
"Labor Reform Is Most Glorious"
—he might have mistaken it for a fortified village rather than a prison.
Relying on vague memories, Cheng Xu navigated through the unfamiliar landscape until he reached the prison's central office.
There, he finally met Zhong Gaoliang.
Cheng Xu did not waste words.
"Zhong Gaoliang, I'm here to recruit soldiers from the prison."
Zhong Gaoliang froze.
"What? Again? Are you planning to take away all my young, able-bodied laborers?"
Cheng Xu laughed helplessly.
"Oh? You value them now?"
"How could I not?" Zhong Gaoliang retorted. "We're in the middle of massive construction."
He pulled out an enormous blueprint.
"This is the planning map Dao Xuan Tianzun personally handed to me."
The map depicted the entirety of Huanglong Mountain.
More than half of it already lay within Li Daoxuan's field of vision—but the plan extended far beyond that. This was pre-planning.
Li Daoxuan knew that one day, his field of vision would cover the entire mountain.
Every usable flat area was marked—farmland, factories, residential zones—linked by cement roads.
A main road cut straight through Huanglong Mountain, leading directly toward Yan'an Prefecture.
That road was already more than halfway complete.
Only a short section remained.
Cheng Xu stared at the map, his expression turning solemn.
"It's nearly connected to Yan'an… Hong Chengchou, the Supreme Commander of three border regions, is stationed there. That man is ruthless. If he suspects Gao Family Village of rebellious intent—"
"Relax," Zhong Gaoliang said calmly. "Hong Chengchou isn't there."
"What?"
"Mongol tribes attacked the Yansui border camps, then raided Lingzhou, Hengcheng, Yansui, and Xichuan. Hong Chengchou has gone to Guyuan to take command."
Cheng Xu finally breathed easier.
"Then who's overseeing Yan'an now?"
"Chen Qiyu, Governor of Yansui," Zhong Gaoliang replied. "He's capable, but nowhere near as sharp as Hong Chengchou. He hasn't suspected us at all. In fact, he praised our road construction, saying that building roads and bridges accumulates boundless merit, and welcomed local gentry funding such projects to assist the court."
Cheng Xu nodded slowly.
The net of history was tightening.
And Gao Family Village needed soldiers—now more than ever.