Chapter 62: The Infrastructure Madmen
On the fourth day, Ye Wuji made his move.
He fixed his gaze on a burly man with a face full of thick, tangled beard.
The big man was being beaten and kicked by five or six people while trying to protect a moldy, discarded mantou.
His face was covered in blood, yet like a beast defending its young, he clutched the bun tightly to his chest. A low, guttural growl escaped his throat as he suddenly lunged forward with ferocious desperation, biting off half of one of his assailant's ears in a single snap!
"Mad dog!"
Cursing angrily, the men finally dispersed.
Only then did Ye Wuji walk over and toss a steaming hot meat bun in front of the big man.
The big man's eyes were bloodshot, staring at him with vigilant suspicion, not uttering a word.
"The Eastern Palace is repairing its courtyards and hiring temporary laborers," Ye Wuji's voice was hoarse and low, devoid of any emotion. "Three full meals a day, and lodging provided. Work well, and there will be a relocation stipend on top of that."
Suspicion filled the big man's eyes, but the loud growl of his stomach betrayed him.
He snatched up the meat bun from the ground, ignoring the scalding heat, and swallowed it down in two or three voracious bites, almost choking himself to death.
Ye Wuji simply watched, neither rushing him nor speaking.
Once the big man caught his breath, Ye Wuji continued.
"If you want to live, come with me."
"If not, keep waiting here to die."
With that, he turned and walked away.
The big man struggled on the ground for a moment, and finally, with a hardened gaze, he limped after him.
Once there was one, there was a second.
Ye Wuji used the most direct method to screen the men he needed.
He never wasted words, relying only on food and the simplest of promises.
When someone doubted him, he would untie the heavy hemp sack, scoop out a large handful of copper coins, and let the dazzling metallic sheen speak for itself.
In this hellish refugee camp, such a crude and brutal approach proved to be the most effective.
A week later, Ye Wuji had gathered two hundred men to his liking.
Every single one of these two hundred men looked as though they had crawled out of a pile of corpses, carrying the fierce, desperate aura of those driven to their absolute limits.
Smuggling these two hundred men into the Eastern Palace without arousing suspicion was no easy task.
Ye Wuji's meticulousness was terrifying.
He divided the men into twenty groups, utilized the connections he had accumulated at the docks, and rented a dozen flatbed carts used for building materials.
He had the refugees lie down on the carts, covered them with thick straw mats and tarpaulins, and disguised them as cartloads of "cargo."
Operating in batches at staggered times, he specifically chose dusk and dawn, when the guards were at their laxest.
Thus, two hundred starved wolves were quietly smuggled in through the most secluded side gate of the Eastern Palace.
When the last flatbed cart entered and that small door was bolted shut once more, these two hundred men were completely cut off from their past world.
***
They were led to a massive, overgrown courtyard situated at the very back of the Eastern Palace.
With crumbling courtyard walls and dilapidated houses, it looked hardly any better than the shanties they had left behind in the refugee camp.
The two hundred men stood in the empty courtyard with mixed expressions—some bewildered, some vigilant, and most of them deeply uneasy.
They had no idea what awaited them next.
At that moment, the main gate of the courtyard slowly creaked open.
A young man dressed in a plain silk robe walked in, accompanied by Qin Gou'er and Ye Wuji.
The youth was pale and frail, appearing as though he were gasping for breath with every few steps—a sickly invalid who looked ready to collapse at any second.
Was this the legendary, dying Imperial Grandson?
Doubts stirred in everyone's minds. Could this be some sort of scam?
Yet, when the youth's gaze swept across them, every single man felt a chill strike at his heart.
He was clearly a sickly youth, but that calm look made these desperate outlaws feel they lacked even the courage to meet his eyes.
Absolute silence descended upon the courtyard.
Li Chengche did not waste words; he merely gave Qin Gou'er a slight look.
Understanding immediately, Qin Gou'er directed several servants to carry forward a large chest that had been prepared in advance.
When the chest was opened, it revealed two hundred tightly bound small cloth pouches.
"Step up and collect your share, one by one," Qin Gou'er shouted loudly.
The men looked at each other in dismay, but under Ye Wuji's icy gaze, they formed a line, stepping forward one by one to take a cloth pouch.
The pouches were not heavy. Out of curiosity, someone untied the cord at the mouth of a bag.
The next second, that man drew a sharp intake of breath and froze entirely in place.
Seeing this, the others hurriedly untied their own bags.
Instantly, a chorus of gasps echoed throughout the entire courtyard.
Stuffed inside each cloth pouch was a bag full of salt as white as snow and as fine as sand!
Without a trace of impurity, without a hint of bitterness—only pure, savory saltiness.
Was this the salt consumed by immortals?
What they usually ate was the blackish, coarse salt distributed by the government, mixed with dirt and sand.
Such snow-white refined salt was said to be enjoyed solely by the nobles deep within the imperial palace!
This small pouch weighed at least a catty or two, enough on the black market to trade for months' worth of grain for an entire family!
Everyone was stunned dumb by this bounty, their hands shaking as they clutched their salt pouches.
Only then did Li Chengche speak slowly, his voice soft yet clearly reaching the ears of every single person present.
"This is your relocation stipend, two catties per person."
"From today onward, you shall be fed and clothed; you need only obey my commands."
***
He paused for a moment, pointed toward the dilapidated courtyard walls around them, and issued his very first order.
"Now, the first task: use those bricks and stones to double the height of these courtyard walls."
"Do you understand?"
The two hundred outlaws stood frozen in place.
Clutched in their hands was wealth that could easily get them beaten to death out on the streets.
Was this a relocation stipend? This was life-money! A blessing from parents who had granted them a second life!
"Thud!"
Before anyone else could react, one man’s knees buckled, and he dropped heavily to the ground, pressing his forehead hard against the cold stone slabs.
"Your Highness’s great kindness! This humble subject... this humble subject is willing to serve Your Highness as a beast of burden!"
The man's voice was hoarse, choked with tears, yet utterly sincere.
"Thud! Thud!" A chain reaction erupted instantly.
The sea of two hundred men dropped to their knees in unison.
They did not know how to speak eloquently; they could only use the most primitive and clumsy way to express the shock and gratitude churning within their hearts.
A roar like crashing waves exploded within the dilapidated courtyard, startling flocks of birds into the sky.
"We are willing to die for Your Highness!"
"We are willing to die for Your Highness!"
The earth-shaking shouts echoed across the ruined compound. In that instant, they were no longer refugees; they were no longer outlaws. They were the men of Li Chengche.
Watching this scene unfold, Li Chengche remained tranquil at heart.
He knew that for these people driven to the edge of survival, no illusory promise could ever be as effective as these tangible two catties of refined salt.
What he wanted was this most primitive form of loyalty.
"Rise."
Li Chengche's voice remained calm. "From today onward, you are no longer refugees. You are the men of my Eastern Palace. Do you understand?"
"Understood!"
Two hundred men roared in unison, their voices shaking the surrounding wilderness.
On the second day, this secluded courtyard, almost forgotten by the Eastern Palace, resounded with the thunderous sounds of labor.
"Clang, clang, clatter..."
"Heave-ho! Heave-ho!"
The two hundred men, well-fed and harboring new hope in their hearts, unleashed an astonishing surge of energy. They cleared away the debris of the collapsed walls, carried heavy bluestone blocks, and stacked them into place.