The fighting in Sichuan had finally come to an end.
Local chieftains returned to their territories with their private troops in tow, spirits high and steps light. This campaign had felt different. Fighting alongside the Gao Family Village Militia was like leaning against a mountain.
Strongholds that once seemed impossible to crack had collapsed like rotten wood. Bandit nests that had plagued the region for years were swept away in days.
After the vagrant rebels were crushed, the aid teams from Gao Family Village did not withdraw. Instead, they moved deeper into Sichuan, centering operations around Chongqing and extending assistance to surrounding ethnic minority communities.
Specialty goods were developed. Local products were standardized and scaled.
Then came the factories.
Cement plants. Coal mines. Steel mills. Textile workshops. Pig farms. Chicken farms.
All were first established in Chongqing as model enterprises. Once stable, they would be expanded into the mountainous minority regions.
Sichuan was changing.
Quietly. Methodically.
---
Meanwhile, a merchant arrived before Wang Weizhang, the Governor of Sichuan, bearing astonishing news.
"At the Shaanxi-Sichuan border, along the most treacherous stretch of the Shu Road, atop the peaks of Mingyue Gorge, sits a colossal deity. I saw it with my own eyes."
Wang Weizhang did not even blink.
"Guards. Ten planks."
The merchant was dragged down and beaten.
Afterward, clutching his swollen backside, he protested, "Governor, I transported goods along the ancient plank road to Hanzhong and back. Both times I saw the giant deity seated on Mingyue Gorge, looking down into the valley. Not a single word of mine is false."
"Ten more," Wang Weizhang said calmly.
After twenty planks, the merchant bowed his head.
"I saw nothing. Absolutely nothing."
Wang Weizhang nodded in satisfaction.
"Next time you fabricate stories, choose your audience more wisely."
The merchant limped away, muttering. Officials truly were the most unreasonable creatures under heaven.
---
On the ancient plank road of Mingyue Gorge, Gao Family Village transport teams advanced carefully.
The road clung to cliffs. Beneath them yawned endless void.
Only the smallest carts could pass. Each carried pitiful amounts of goods.
Above, on the peak of Mingyue Gorge, Dao Xuan Tianzun sat watching.
No one dared ask for his help directly. They labored carefully, trying not to trouble His Venerable Self.
Yet when one transporter slipped and nearly fell into the abyss, a massive hand reached down in an instant and steadied him.
After days of effort, the first shipment arrived.
Two hundred copies of The Legend of the Dao Xuan Tianzun Demon Slaying.
Two hundred.
Hardly enough.
In Guangyuan, they were snapped up instantly. Not a single copy reached the Chengdu Plain by land.
Fortunately, there was still the river.
Zhuge Wangchan moved the books by water to Chongqing, where they spread quickly through the city.
---
Night fell over Jiangbei Dock in Chongqing.
Jiang Daliang, a dockworker born and raised by the river, had just finished hauling heavy cargo. His shoulders ached, but his pay was good tonight.
He and a group of fellow dockworkers gathered under the fading light.
They had managed to obtain one copy of The Legend of the Dao Xuan Tianzun Demon Slaying.
One book.
Dozens of heads crowded together, layered like cabbages, eyes fixed on the pages.
"Look at this. Tianzun smashed that mountain bandit into paste with a single strike."
"And he gives people food. Good food!"
"Tianzun bless us!"
They laughed and shouted just like the Gao Family Village Militia.
Then someone pointed.
"Here. This part is about recruiting militia."
"Wait. Isn't that masked man Instructor He?"
Jiang Daliang leaned closer.
It was him.
Instructor He assembling the first Gao Family Village militia under Dao Xuan Tianzun's command. Soldiers lined up. Drilling in formation.
Among dockworkers, Instructor He's reputation had already reached near mythic status.
Jiang Daliang felt warmth rise in his chest.
"Instructor He helped us deal with that corrupt foreman Wang Wen. He wiped out the bandits at Tieshan Ping. If not for him, I might have walked the wrong road myself."
Another dockworker chimed in.
"I heard Instructor He found a coal mine in Jingangbei, Beibei District. He's building a coal factory. They're recruiting workers. Anyone want to go? Hard labor is hard labor. At least the pay is steady."
"Beibei is too far," someone grumbled. "Can't they build it here?"
Jiang Daliang laughed.
"Coal comes from underground. You build the factory where the coal is. What are you thinking?"
Everyone burst into laughter.
At that moment, a dockworker ran over breathlessly.
"Why are you all still here? Hurry to the yamen. Instructor He is recruiting militia."
The laughter stopped.
Militia?
Many of them had once joined Chongqing's old militia, organized by Wang Wen against the vagrant rebels.
Jiang Daliang had joined too, though at the time he had his own secret motives.
But this was different.
Instructor He.
Their eyes lit up simultaneously.
"This one is worth joining."
"Let's go."
Jiang Daliang jumped to his feet.
"I must join."
---
Getting from Jiangbei to the Chongqing Prefecture yamen was not simple.
They had to cross the Jialing River by boat, then enter through Chaotianmen Gate.
They rowed like madmen.
When they reached the yamen, they saw him.
Instructor He sat behind a table at the entrance. Before him stretched a long line of young men.
Faces full of admiration.
These were not conscripts dragged from their homes.
They had come willingly.
Someone called out from the crowd.
"Instructor He. The vagrant rebels are gone. Why recruit militia now?"
Cheng Xu's voice rang out clearly.
"One wave of rebels has been driven away. Another may come. And throughout Sichuan, mountain strongholds still harbor bandits. Our war is not finished."
The crowd quieted.
He continued.
"Until all internal strife and external threats are eliminated, we cannot stop fighting. Young men who wish to defend your homes, protect your parents, wives, children, and neighbors. Step forward."
Jiang Daliang's hand shot up.
"Me."
Around him, countless hands rose as well.
"Me too."
"I'll go."
In that moment, beneath the lantern light of the yamen, a new militia began to take shape.