23: Chapter 23 Gathering the Refugees

After his strength improved, Gao Feng immediately began working to enhance the overall combat power of the Panshi Stockade.

He made the news of capturing the Hegemon Spear Technique public and announced the formation of the first "Spear Squad" of the Panshi Stockade.

This news made all the warriors extremely excited, especially those tall men with extraordinary arm strength, who were rubbing their hands and signing up eagerly, longing to learn this new martial art that sounded incredibly imposing.

"The saber is the courage of the hundred weapons, while the spear is the king of the hundred weapons! Our Panshi Stockade previously only had courage, but from today on, we will be the king!" Gao Feng stood on the high platform and shouted while waving his arms.

"Be the king! Be the king!" The warriors below were stirred to boiling blood and shouted in unison.

Gao Feng personally selected ten of the tallest and strongest warriors to form the first Spear Squad.

Old Qiu's son was also among them.

The Old Blacksmith was ordered to put all usable iron into the furnace. With the help of several apprentices, he worked day and night to forge a batch of twelve-foot-long, three-edged armor-piercing spears, with spearheads personally designed by Gao Feng, which were incredibly sharp.

Looking at the nascent saber-shield squad and the spear squad, Gao Feng felt a new problem: a severe shortage of manpower.

In the entire stockade, there were only forty-odd combat-capable warriors in total. Excluding those guarding the pass and on daily patrol, there were too few mobile forces available.

With such few people, it was difficult to form a decent battle formation.

"We need to increase our population." At a meeting of core members, Gao Feng proposed a new direction.

Old Qiu nodded in deep agreement: "The Stockade Master is right. Now that the stockade has plenty of food and places to live, having more people will speed up everything, whether it's reclaiming farmland or logging and construction."

"Then it is settled."

Gao Feng made the decision immediately. "Old Qiu, you are steady and experienced. I am giving you a task: take ten reliable warriors, bring plenty of dry rations, and go out of the valley to gather refugees."

He looked at Old Qiu, his expression becoming serious: "Remember, our principle is: better to have nothing than something inferior! I do not want those who are lazy and shiftless, and definitely not those thugs and criminals who have innocent blood on their hands! I only want those good-hearted people who are at the end of their rope but possess a simple Heart-Nature! Do you understand?"

"Stockade Master, I understand!"

Old Qiu solemnly accepted the order. He knew this task concerned the future Foundation of the Panshi Stockade.

Three days later, Old Qiu led the carefully selected ten warriors and walked out of this valley, which he had already begun to consider his home, for the first time.

When they passed through the hidden pass and stepped onto the land outside, everyone was deeply stung by the scene before them.

The outside world was completely different from his memory of a place that, while poor, still had some vitality.

On the official road, wild grass grew taller than a person, and everywhere one looked was desolation.

The drought continued for longer and longer, and the weather grew hotter and hotter.

The closer they got to the towns, the more corpses there were on the side of the road.

He saw with his own eyes several withered skeletons that had died of starvation who knows how long ago, just lying casually on the side of the road. Their tattered clothes had long been torn to shreds by wild dogs, and the ghastly white bones appeared exceptionally glaring in the sunlight.

The air was filled with a mixture of despair, death, and decay.

"Stay alert! Keep watch!" Old Qiu suppressed the discomfort in his heart and ordered in a low voice.

They proceeded cautiously, and finally, a few days later, in a dilapidated temple that had long since collapsed halfway, they found a group of refugees huddled together.

When Old Qiu and his sturdy, weapon-wielding men appeared, the group of refugees was as terrified as startled rabbits. Each one was sallow and emaciated, their eyes numb, hugging their children, shivering, and not daring to breathe loudly.

A warrior was about to step forward to question them, but Old Qiu stopped him.

"Don't scare them." Old Qiu shook his head, remembering the Stockade Master's instructions before they left.

He signaled his men to put down their weapons, then took out clean water skins and jerky wrapped in oil paper from his backpack, slowly handing them over.

"Don't be afraid, we are not bad people. Come, eat something." Old Qiu's voice was as gentle as possible.

At first, no one dared to move.

But soon, a little boy of about five or six years old, unable to resist the tempting aroma of the meat, timidly poked his head out from his mother's arms.

Old Qiu smiled at him and handed him a piece of jerky.

The little boy hesitated for a moment, but finally grabbed the jerky and shoved it into his mouth, devouring it greedily.

As if it were a signal, the other refugees, especially the children, could no longer control themselves.

They swarmed forward, snatching the water and jerky.

When those refugees ate the jerky, which they had likely never tasted in their entire lives, many couldn't help but burst into tears.

In those cries were the relief of surviving a disaster, confusion about the future, and endless bitterness.

Watching this scene, Old Qiu felt very unsettled.

He remembered when he had led his children in wandering, wasn't it just like this?

If he hadn't met the Stockade Master, his family would likely have become just another pile of withered bones on the roadside long ago.

He waited until everyone's emotions had calmed slightly before saying loudly: "Fellow countrymen, these times are not peaceful, and everyone's life is difficult. We come from the mountains. In our stockade, there is a place to live and food to eat. As long as you are willing to work hard, you can survive. Those who want to live, come with us!"

Old Qiu's words were like a ray of light cast into the darkness.

In the end, more than thirty refugees, holding onto their last glimmer of hope, followed Old Qiu's team towards the "Ghost Sees Sorrow" mountain range, which they perceived as mysterious and dangerous.

When they, exhausted and anxious, passed through that hidden pass and saw the scene in the valley that looked like a paradise, everyone was stunned.

Neat wooden houses, row upon row, were planned in an orderly fashion.

In the distance, there were large tracts of black fields that had been reclaimed, where villagers dressed in clean clothes were working in the fields.

Further away, there was a huge training ground where dozens of soldiers were shouting and drilling, their momentum shaking the sky.

In the valley, one could even hear the laughter of children chasing and playing...

Everything here was full of vitality and vigor!

This... this was completely different from the mountain bandit den they had imagined!

"Officer... this..."

A young man stammered as he grabbed Old Qiu's sleeve, pointing at the scene before him, too excited to speak, "Is... is this a fairyland?"

"It is not a fairyland; this is the Panshi Stockade."

A look of immense pride appeared on Old Qiu's face. He straightened his back and said, word by word, "It is the home that our Stockade Master led us to build with our own hands!"

The addition of new people injected new vitality into the Panshi Stockade.

Although it would take some time for adaptation and training, the potential for the future was enormous.

Old Qiu continued to go out to gather refugees. This time, he would not send them back immediately, but rather gather enough people before sending them back to the valley all at once.