97: Flame of Hope

First, assess and recruit herb gatherers who can identify common Spiritual Plants.

As long as they agree to join the Zhuang family's herb gathering team, each person will receive one tael of silver per month, free of charge, limited to 500 people.

Additionally, Spiritual Plants will be bought back at their normal price.

The only point of note is that each individual needs to record their location and the number of people in their household. The Zhuang family will dispatch guards to patrol and protect them in sequence.

Five hundred people, even if they do nothing, that's five hundred taels of silver a month!

Lei He watched, his heart aching. He only earned sixty taels a month now; it was all money!

Second, extensively buy back bitter apricot fruits, at one tael of silver per thirty catties. Also, buy back bitter apricot trees that are three years old or older, with prices ranging from three to thirty taels.

Third, surprisingly, support lending medicine to sick people for treatment...

After separating from the others, Jiang Hanwen went directly back to the Medicine Field, changed his clothes, washed away the old age disguise on his face, and disguised himself as a twenty-seven or twenty-eight-year-old with a scarred face. He took his father's gold and, using the tunnel dug by Xiao Bu Dian, returned to the foot of the mountain.

In his previous identity, wherever he went, a group of people followed him, constantly watched, too conspicuous. He couldn't properly observe the specific situation at the foot of the mountain.

Although Song Shuming and the others had no reason to deceive him, without investigation, there is no right to speak.

Know yourself and your enemy, and you will never be defeated.

One afternoon, Jiang Hanwen, with his faster pace, finally toured the village.

Because so many people had suddenly poured in, and more were constantly arriving, actually, half the people were still living outdoors, working overtime to build houses.

Dark prostitutes, for whom three catties of rice could buy a night of pleasure, hid in dilapidated old houses:

Beggars, curled up in a ball, leaned against the flagstone alleys, hidden in shadows, waiting for an opportunity, ready to snatch things at any moment.

Hunks begging for work by the roadside had pale lips, lacking even the strength to shout, leaning against a wall, sitting under a tiled eaves.

Coughing invalids huddled in dilapidated straw huts, one leaning against another, waiting to die...

At the same time, besides hunger and death, the refugees also brought vitality.

Clever outsiders with savings, relying on strong sons-in-law or robust sons to maintain their presence, exchanged food from the original residents in just two days, set up small stir-fry restaurants, and started businesses.

Skilled blacksmiths gathered together, borrowing old houses to forge kitchen knives, making a living.

Some even opened martial arts schools, teaching people to Cultivate!

From the newly built taverns, the established brothels, and the bustling village center, to the village's edge where people lived in tree hollows and starved.

Jiang Hanwen measured the rebirth of this land inch by inch with his footsteps.

Chewing grass blades, gnawing on kaolin clay, gnawing on tree roots... Anyone who has truly experienced famine knows that, despite how many people in Dazhai Village seem half-dead now,

In reality, those who were truly half-dead had already collapsed on the road and couldn't even make it here!

Now, the foot of the mountain was like a semi-dry paddy field with seedlings planted; it only needed a timely rain to become invigorated and burst forth with new vitality.

The evening wind whistled across the grassland, and leaves rustled in the dense forest.

Jiang Hanwen stood on the mountainside, over four hundred meters up, smelling the decaying yet vibrant scent of human activity in the air, overlooking Dazhai Village, where lights shone like a tide.

If this war were to continue, and people kept flowing in here,

It wouldn't be long before it should be renamed Dazhai City. Although the population hadn't reached the minimum of a million, it would certainly exceed a hundred thousand.

As for further south, that was uncultivated mountains, with ordinary wild beasts, as well as fierce beasts that could easily deal with ordinary people, and even higher-level Spirit Beasts.

Perhaps, following the wide official road, some might find a glimmer of hope for survival.

But further south, that was the southern border of the country, heavily garrisoned.

Standing high up, the figures on the ground looked like tiny ants.

Heaven and Earth are not benevolent; they treat all things as straw dogs.

The golden-robed on the throne treat those below the steps as straw dogs.

But evils brought by Heaven may be forgiven; evils brought by oneself are unforgivable.

The hatred brought by this man-made disaster, like a spark on a prairie fire, will it be extinguished by a strong wind, or will it stand firm in the wind, using its momentum to soar upwards?

He didn't know, besides himself, who else would emerge from this village?

With too many questions in his heart that needed answers, curiosity flickered in Jiang Hanwen's eyes.

Longevity allowed him to observe everything without haste or impatience.

Among these lights beneath his feet, would there be a "King Chen Sheng" who would declare, "Are kings and nobles born with a special lineage?"

He was very much looking forward to it.

As tens of thousands of catties of boulders fell, Jiang Hanwen returned to the tunnel and went back home.

He would try to do something, but it would definitely not be distributing food for free. He would only give an opportunity; those who help themselves are helped by Heaven, and that's all.

And this was an excellent opportunity, wasn't it?

Acting in the capacity of a Medicine Field Elder, although he had subordinates and it was easy, he was inevitably constrained by the Zhuang family, and everything was transparent.

Having a new identity at the foot of the mountain meant that whatever he wanted to do wouldn't implicate his true self, which would be much more convenient.

Who said one could only stay hidden with a single identity? Right?

In the basement, after a full fifty breaths of the Spirit Rain Technique, the moist air was filled with the sweet scent of Spiritual Qi.

The qi gathering grass in the ground perked up, its green color becoming even more vibrant.

In half a year, or a year, this patch of qi gathering grass before him would have a chance to revert to its ancestral form and become spirit gathering grass.

The foot of the mountain was an experiment, the top of the mountain was the foundation, and there was a tunnel for retreat—perfect!

"Creak~"

The door pushed open, and Jiang Hanwen, smelling of lingering ink, looked up.

The stars in the sky were still bright; it was still the Hai hour.

Jiang Hanwen touched his chest; there was a scroll of hope in his storage ring. Tonight, he would light this candle.

The next second, the door closed, and he, cloaked in black, plunged into the vast, dark night.

On the dark wilderness, a few courtyards huddled together, like giants standing shoulder to shoulder, all lit up, making the night lively.

"Did you all hear clearly?" A tired voice vaguely carried anger.

"Clearly!" Several childish voices responded.

"Alright, you can all go down now."

After the courtyard became quiet, a helpless sigh rang out.

"Alas~"

Jiang Hanwen jumped down from the wall, crossed his arms, and looked at the person in front of him, teasing:

"What, are your disciples all very foolish?"

In an empty courtyard, a sudden remark startled Gong Qing. Seeing it was Jiang Hanwen, he gave him an annoyed look:

"Are you stealing from people? You made no sound at all."

Though he said that, Gong Qing's voice was not loud, and he pointed towards the house.

Coming to see him by climbing over the wall late at night, there must be something important. Could there be some dispute at the foot of the mountain?

Gong Qing locked the main gate, then tightly closed the room door. He sat by the window, opening a crack, making sure he could see outside, but outside couldn't see in.

Only after doing this did he look at his old friend.

"You're here so late, what's the matter?"

Jiang Hanwen saw how skilled he was and couldn't help but recall the saying, people are like paint; if they touch, there will surely be contagion.

Gong Qing had lived with him for a few years, and unknowingly, he had also become cautious—interesting.

"Good news, here."

Jiang Hanwen took out a handwritten copy of the "《Mystic Truth Art》" from his embrace and handed it over.

Gong Qing picked up the Cultivation Technique and paused. Didn't Jiang Hanwen know he couldn't Cultivate?

He was about to put it down but continued to flip through it.

Not being impatient is a sign of maturity and a necessary step in handling affairs.

The bitter smile on his lips slowly smoothed out as the pages turned, and his desolate eyes widened, filled with an uncontrollable excitement.