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Chapter 418: Benevolent Coercion

Xing Honglang exchanged a few quick words with the people from Sunji Town, then swiftly turned to the main issue. There was no time for a friendly reunion. She scanned the scene at Pujiu Temple and quickly gathered that the common folk here had come from the surrounding villages for miles around.

It seemed many nearby villages had been plundered by bandits, forcing the people to huddle together in Pujiu Temple for safety and warmth.

Recruiting all these people to work at the Gudu Ferry would be an excellent idea, but communicating with so many would be difficult. Some would surely distrust her. She needed to find someone in charge.

"Who's leading things here at Pujiu Temple?" Xing Honglang asked.

"Amitabha." A middle-aged monk, gripping a staff, stepped forward to face Xing Honglang. "This humble monk is known as Zhan Seng. If the benefactress has anything to say, you may speak to me."

"Zhan Seng?" Xing Honglang mused, "That dharma name..."

The monk looked a little embarrassed. "In my youth, I was fiery and prone to fighting, which is why I took the dharma name Zhan Seng, or 'War Monk.' As I've aged, I've wished to change it, but everyone is used to it, so it's stuck."

"Very well, Master Zhan Seng," Xing Honglang said. "Do these villagers in the temple follow your lead now?"

Zhan Seng sighed. "The villagers have suffered greatly. They are lost and desperate for guidance, so this humble monk reluctantly took charge... Oh dear, oh dear!"

"About eight or nine hundred," Zhan Seng replied.

"Can your temple feed so many people?" Xing Honglang asked.

A look of embarrassment crossed Zhan Seng's face. "No, of course not."

"Then what does the master intend to do?" Xing Honglang pressed.

Zhan Seng confessed, "This humble monk hadn't thought about it yet. The villagers flocked here suddenly, and no sooner had they arrived than the bandits were hot on their heels. I was solely focused on defending against the bandits and completely overlooked the issue of food... Your question truly..."

Sweat trickled down his bald head. Eight or nine hundred people! What would they eat?

This was bad!

"Please, let's not have a tragedy of people eating people in this temple," he fretted inwardly. "Heaven help us all!"

"Master Zhan Seng," Xing Honglang said, "please relay a message to the villagers for me. I have a way to feed them. The Gudu Ferry currently needs many workers to transport grain and build a wooden stockade. Those willing to work will receive full meals and three jin of flour as daily wages."

Zhan Seng's eyes immediately lit up at her words.

However, he quickly thought of something else, pressing his palms together. "Amitabha! Oh dear, oh dear! Benefactress, while your plan is good, what about the elderly, infirm, women, and children without male providers in their families? They cannot manage the heavy labor of transport or construction."

"The elderly, infirm, women, and children without male providers will be responsible for cooking for the workers!" Xing Honglang declared. "They will also be fed full meals daily for their cooking work."

Zhan Seng's eyebrows subtly arched. "This is no laughing matter. These eight or nine hundred people are already terrified, hungry, and exhausted. If they walk ten li for nothing and still don't get food, that would be incredibly difficult for them. Also, since you have so much grain there, bandits might also target you. Wouldn't that be extremely dangerous?"

Xing Honglang straightened. "I, Xing Honglang of Yongji, am a well-known salt smuggler in the underworld. My word is my bond. There is plenty of grain by the ferry, more than enough to feed these eight or nine hundred people. We even have surplus grain to sell. As for safety, I have my soldiers at the ferry." Zhan Seng's expression turned serious. "Benefactress, since you are a salt smuggler, your subordinates surely aren't government troops, are they?"

"Are government troops more reliable than me?" Xing Honglang retorted.

Zhan Seng pondered. "These common people hid in this humble monk's temple precisely because they refused to join the bandits. If they went to your place, it would be like joining bandits anyway. How could that be right?"

Xing Honglang explained, "Most bandits don't feed their followers; they force them to steal. But I will feed them. They won't need their hands stained with blood; they only need to work. They'd surely be willing to follow such a 'bandit'."

"What about these people," Zhan Seng pressed, "when government troops come to suppress you in the future?"

"The court always punishes the ringleaders but spares the followers," Xing Honglang assured him. "If government troops kill me, these people can return to their homes and ancestral lands, safe and sound."

Zhan Seng stared into her eyes for several seconds. "This humble monk has met countless people, and the benefactress doesn't seem to be lying. Very well, I will trust you this once. I shall relay your message."

He gathered the villagers and delivered Xing Honglang's message to them.

Having a monk help relay the message had a tremendous effect. They might not have believed Xing Honglang, but trusting the master of Pujiu Temple was incredibly easy. Soon, the mood throughout the temple brightened considerably.

Having just suffered the loss of their homes and families, the villagers regained their spirits, ready to set out for the Gudu Ferry.

With chaotic times of war raging outside, it truly took a certain courage to venture forth.

The villagers timidly peeked outside the temple gates, wanting to see if any bandits were still lurking in ambush.

Fortunately, there were none!

Zao Ying's cavalry troop returned from the north, laughing heartily. "I chased those bandits far away. I pursued them, shooting arrows, and sent them fleeing in terror."

The villagers breathed a sigh of relief.

Zhan Seng, carrying a small bundle on his back and gripping his staff, shouted, "Everyone, let's go! Even if you have no strength, you must walk. Abandon the temple and quickly make your way to the Gudu Ferry."

The large crowd began to move.

Once the majority started walking, the few who were still hesitant about "working for a salt smuggler" dared not remain in the temple alone and could only follow along.

This, in fact, was a form of coercion!

Zhan Seng understood that doing this wasn't ideal, but benevolent coercion was always better than malicious coercion. Rather than letting these villagers be coerced away by bandits, it was better to have them coerced away by a salt smuggler instead.

The villagers walked slowly, with Zao Ying's cavalry spreading out to guard the flanks of the procession. They advanced slowly.

Fortunately, they didn't encounter any more bandits along the way.

The elderly, infirm, women, and children walked for a couple of hours to cover the ten li. By dusk, their stomachs rumbled with hunger, and they finally saw the dilapidated thatched huts of the ancient ferry town.

And...

A gigantic ship!

A warship, a cargo ship.

Another cargo ship, which had only carried Zao Ying's cavalry and no grain, was already empty after the cavalry disembarked and had returned to Qichuan Ferry.

As soon as Zhan Seng saw the massive cannon-equipped vessel, a secret alarm went off in his heart: *A mere salt smuggler, with such formidable power? No, this must be more than just a salt smuggler. There must be some other force behind this person, merely using a salt smuggler as a front.*

But what the villagers saw was different from Zhan Seng. They saw sacks of grain, massive amounts of it, piled high on the cargo ship. They saw a group of dockworkers busy unloading the cargo ship. They had clearly been working for a long time, yet half the grain still hadn't been moved.

After a moment of stunned silence, the eight or nine hundred villagers erupted in cheers.