Outside the gate of Gaojia Fortress.

“General Cheng Xu, it has been so long, really so very long,” Thirty-Two said with a smile. “Since Bai Shui Wang Er started the rebellion and I fled the county town, I have never seen you again. Seeing you today, I was overjoyed.”

Cheng Xu glanced sideways. “I was here just a few days ago, and you greeted me then, didn’t you?”

Thirty-Two said, “Huh? What happened?”

Cheng Xu felt a pang in his heart and thought to himself: So, I wasn’t truly in Gaojia Village back then? I must have fallen under demonic arts and gone to a Ghost Village, with female ghosts disguising as Third Lady to trick me into entering. Luckily, I didn’t go in then, otherwise I would have been devoured by those ghosts long ago.

At that thought, sweat poured down his brow like large beans.

Forget it, the past was over, and he was still alive and well—no need to panic anymore. Cheng Xu pulled himself together and pointed at Gaojia Fortress. “This little Gaojia Village, when did it build such a huge fortress?”

Thirty-Two smiled. “This was funded by Mr. Bai from Bai Family Fortress. I also chipped in some silver, plus every villager from the nearby ten-mile stretch helped out. It took a great deal of joint effort to get it up.”

“Bai Yuan funded it?” Cheng Xu didn’t know whether to believe it; damn, a three-zhang-high fortress wall, could a village gentry really afford that? But whatever, now wasn’t the time for unnecessary complications. He only had three days before the Donglin Party county magistrate took office; no time to meddle in trivial matters—pretending not to see was the wisest move.

Cheng Xu asked urgently, “I got news that two nights ago, Bai Shui Wang Er raided Gaojia Fortress at night. Bai Yuan led the Gaojia Village Militia in an ambush and killed Zhuang Guangdao and Zheng Yanfu. Is this true?”

Thirty-Two had already heard the rumors spread by Wang Er and knew his well-meaning intent, so why not cooperate? He immediately put on a smug expression. “Beyond all doubt.”

Cheng Xu said, “Where are the bodies of Zheng Yanfu and Zhuang Guangdao?”

Thirty-Two pointed at a nearby hill slope. “They’re buried there. See, over there with two stones set, right under them.”

Cheng Xu was overjoyed and quickly sent men to dig. After a few shovels, they indeed unearthed several charred, rotten corpses emitting a foul stench.

Cheng Xu didn’t mind it and didn’t bother identifying them formally; in those times, there was no technical means for an autopsy. “Chop off the heads of these charred remains and put them in a bag.”

His soldiers complied swiftly.

It was a revolting task, but his men were regular troops after all, used to all kinds of corpses—be it burnt or decayed, they worked without batting an eye.

Cheng Xu was in high spirits. “Third Lady, you and Mr. Bai have done great deeds. Later, when the new county magistrate takes office, I’ll bring you to him to claim merit; he’s sure to give you some reward.”

Thirty-Two said, “We only took out a few remaining bandits; those two bandit chiefs were personally slain by you, General Cheng Xu. All villagers in Gaojia Village witnessed it—you are the real hero of all the hard work.”

Cheng Xu grinned and chuckled. “Third Lady, you truly know how to read the room.”

After laughing, his expression darkened sharply. “Which way did Wang Er flee?”

Thirty-Two stretched out his hand, pointing at the north hill slope. “That way!”

He hadn’t lied; he genuinely indicated where Wang Er had gone because he knew Wang Er had planned ahead by spreading the news.

Without another word, Cheng Xu pointed at the northern mountains. “After him!”

He led over a hundred soldiers into the forested hills, soon disappearing into the distance.

Only then did Thirty-Two withdraw his gaze, muttered “tch,” returned to the fortress, and stood atop the high fortress wall. He thought for a moment: No wonder Bai Yuan said the road to the county town would soon be open; so that’s how it was… Once news of Wang Er’s severe injury came out, Cheng Xu became active again. So, the rebel forces around here would quiet down.

He turned and shouted to the village: “Gao Chuwu, Zheng Daniu, get ready! After Cheng Xu stirs things up for a few days, it’ll be safe outside. We’ll go to the county town to buy some horses and hire a few helpers.”

Gao Chuwu popped up from a rooftop. “Huh? But no one here knows how to ride a horse. Even if we buy them, how would we ride them back to the village?”

Zheng Daniu popped up from another rooftop. “Do you want us two to carry the horses back?”

Gao Chuwu grinned foolishly. “Oh? Right, if the two of us team up, we’d have the strength.”

Zheng Daniu said, “I’m very confident in my strength.”

Thirty-Two said, “Both of you fools, shut it! Even if you can’t ride, you could lead the horses back. Why the need to carry anything? Is it people riding horses, or horses riding people?”

The two men were silent.

Li Daoxuan overheard the two naive guys talking and found it amusing. After laughing, he pondered more deeply: Although Gao Chuwu was a bit dull, he’d raised a crucial point—that “riding horses was an advanced skill.”

This skill wasn’t easy to master!

For the villagers of Gaojia Village, even if they got horses, learning to ride would be a long-term process, and only a few might ever manage to use them effectively.

Besides, horse-drawn wagons had limited carrying capacity. If villagers wanted to transport some of the strange items he provided later on, like that plastic catapult before, a wagon probably couldn’t handle it.

Traffic problems needed serious attention.

Li Daoxuan just opened the military history forum and anonymously posted: Respected experts, I’m back. I’d like to ask: with modern materials and technical data available, what’s the highest level of land transportation they could achieve in the Ming Dynasty?

Reply 1: The Apollo spaceship.

Reply 2: Bury the first reply! Even with modern materials, people from the Ming Dynasty couldn’t understand modern technical data, so they couldn’t build anything proper. Wait until you’ve trained talents who grasp those docs—that’d take at least a decade. Better stick to wagons.

Reply 3: I’ve seen steam trains in Ming Dynasty time-travel novels.

Reply 4: Those are just for fun, speeding up tech developments. With untapped basic science, all wild ideas stayed on paper, like in the Ming’s “Military Preparations Book”—packed with odd weapons, have you seen any actually built? Do you even believe in time-travel tropes?

Reply 5: I believe it! Especially plots with buying dozens of concubines for orgies at home—totally feasible in the Ming era.

All replies scolded together: “Why hasn’t this guy been banned? Where are the mods? Where’s that dead mod vanished to?”

Li Daoxuan realized he wasn’t getting much useful info from the forum; he couldn’t precisely explain how his golden hand worked, so netizens couldn’t help much.

Fine, he’d search on his own!

He opened all online shopping sites and searched for miniature toys…

As they say, if you set your mind on buying something that’s not illegal, you can definitely find it online—it all boils down to how hard you look.