After Zhu Yujian left Xi'an, he did not hurry.
Unlike Zhu Cunji, who would stop for every scenic hill and ancient pavilion, Zhu Yujian cared about only one thing.
People.
He rode alone, slow and steady, observing the settlement outside the city gates. The houses were neat. Smoke rose from kitchen chimneys. Children chased each other along the road. Farmers bent over fields that shimmered with an almost arrogant shade of green.
Too green.
Healthy green.
Prosperous green.
He dismounted more than once to speak with farmers. He asked about harvest yields. About irrigation. About the so-called celestial fertilizer granted by Dao Xuan Tianzun.
One old farmer, missing two teeth but overflowing with pride, suddenly rummaged through his cloth bag and pulled out a small bottle.
"Look at this!"
He held it up like a treasure.
"Chen Qianhu's Locust Eradicator. Powerful stuff. No matter how vicious the pests are, once they run into Chen Qianhu, they're finished."
Zhu Yujian blinked. "Wait. The medicine is actually called Chen Qianhu?"
The old man burst out laughing.
"No, no! The official name is 'Happy Farmer's Locust Eradicator.' But nobody remembers that. Everyone calls it Chen Qianhu's. Look here, see? His face is printed on the bottle. Show that face to the locusts and they'll scare themselves to death."
Zhu Yujian accepted the bottle.
One glance.
He almost dropped it.
The face printed there was savage beyond reason. Thick brows slanted like blades. Eyes that screamed of bloodshed. A mouth curved not in a smile but in threat. It was the sort of face that made small children cry and grown men reconsider their life choices.
This man has boiled people alive before, Zhu Yujian thought instantly.
He handed the bottle back as if returning a venomous snake.
"Please. Put that away. I truly cannot look at it."
The old farmer only grinned wider.
After bidding him farewell, Zhu Yujian continued onward, deep in thought.
No wonder the crops here flourish like this. Celestial fertilizer to enrich the soil. Chen Qianhu to eradicate pests. Two blades drawn at once.
With such methods, how could the harvest not double?
He was still pondering agricultural miracles when he noticed a group of people ahead on the road.
Dozens of them.
Clothes dusty. Faces weary. Steps heavy.
Travelers. Or refugees.
His heart tightened immediately.
Without hesitation, he took out some of the silver Zhu Cunji had given him and walked toward them.
—
Mi Qianhu muttered under his breath, "The man in the conical hat is coming. Everyone, do not recognize him. Do not show weakness. If he senses anything, we're finished."
One Jinyiwei whispered, "Are his subordinates nearby?"
"They must be hiding," Mi Qianhu replied. "When he abducted Zhu Yujian before, he appeared alone in the road. His men were concealed on both sides."
The entire group tensed.
Zhu Yujian approached.
He held out the silver.
For a brief moment he almost spoke, then stopped himself.
If I say anything now, it will sound like charity from above. That would be vulgar. I am not Zhu Cunji, eager to show benevolence like a peacock spreading feathers.
Better to say nothing.
He simply extended the silver.
Mi Qianhu stared at the money.
What trap is this?
But remembering he was supposed to be a destitute refugee, he quickly reached out and accepted it.
Zhu Yujian gave a small nod.
No words.
Then he turned and continued toward Gao Family Village.
Mi Qianhu stood frozen.
The Jinyiwei exchanged looks.
Silence fell like a curtain.
Only after Zhu Yujian had disappeared far down the road did one whisper, "What was that?"
"He didn't see through us."
"He really thought we were poor."
"He gave us money."
Another frowned. "But the man in the conical hat is a lawless villain. Since when does he help refugees?"
"Perhaps it was a warning."
Mi Qianhu finally exhaled. "Enough speculation. Follow him. Keep your distance."
They abandoned their supposed journey to Xi'an and trailed behind.
Tracking was the Jinyiwei's craft. Their pride. Their rice bowl.
Zhu Yujian, who had zero Jianghu experience, never noticed.
He walked calmly ahead, unaware that an entire pack of imperial hounds followed his footprints.
—
After some time, a colossal structure rose before him.
High walls.
Vast grounds.
A complex so large it swallowed the horizon.
Zhu Yujian's eyes lit up.
"The Chang'an Automobile Factory."
This was Gao Family Village's military industry.
The pride of modern warfare.
He had heard of it countless times. Cannons. Vehicles. Strange machines that moved without horses. It was said that power here was forged not by swords but by steel and smoke.
"I must see it," he murmured.
Then reality intruded.
Military enterprises were not sightseeing gardens.
But suddenly he remembered the letter Zhu Cunji had given him.
He quickly took it out.
—
At the main gate, two factory guards immediately fixed their eyes on the man in the conical hat.
Suspicious.
"Chang'an Factory grounds," one barked. "Unauthorized entry is forbidden."
Zhu Yujian handed over the letter.
The guard read it.
His expression changed instantly.
"Understood. Please enter."
Zhu Yujian walked inside.
—
Far behind, the Jinyiwei watched.
"He went in."
"What is this place? The walls are so high."
"It looks… secret."
"There must be something unspeakable hidden inside."
"Could this be his headquarters?"
"Very possible."
Mi Qianhu narrowed his eyes.
"Zhu Yujian may be inside. We must enter."
"There are guards."
They hesitated.
Then one of them looked down.
"A paper."
He picked it up.
His face brightened.
"Chief. A recruitment notice."
Mi Qianhu took it.
The paper stated that the Chang'an Automobile Factory required numerous laborers for heavy work.
He slowly lifted his head and looked again at the massive compound.
Factory.
The word struck him.
In his world, "factory" meant something else.
The Eastern Depot.
The Western Depot.
Terrifying institutions of surveillance and punishment.
Organizations that made even seasoned officials lose sleep.
"This Chang'an Automobile Factory…" he muttered. "It must be similar. Some kind of carriage or horse administration organization. A special bureau."
He folded the notice carefully.
"They need laborers. We will enter as laborers."
The Jinyiwei nodded.
Then, with admirable professionalism, they rolled in the dirt, tangled their hair, smeared mud across their faces, and transformed from elite imperial agents into convincing refugees.
Mi Qianhu's voice grew grave.
"Everyone knows the Eastern and Western Depots. Since this place also bears the word 'Factory,' I fear it is just as formidable."
He looked at the towering walls.
"What lies ahead is a dragon's pool and a tiger's den. One mistake and we die without burial."
The men answered in unison, "Understood."
Mi Qianhu inhaled deeply.
He clutched the recruitment notice like a battle order and walked toward the gate.
No fear.
If you do not enter the tiger's den, how can you seize the tiger cub?
To capture Zhu Yujian.
To complete the Emperor's mission.
Today, they would gamble their lives inside this so-called Factory.