"Greetings, benefactor!"
In a secluded valley, eight hundred Qin soldiers knelt in unison on one knee.
At the rear of the column were a dozen or so youths, including Wang Xiaosi and Wang Xiaowu.
Their mouths were greasy, clearly from sharing a treat, and they glanced furtively at Chen Ke standing at the front with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity.
Chen Ke remained silent, his gaze passing over the dark mass of people to the densely packed, dilapidated wooden shacks in the valley.
Things were completely different from what he had imagined. Liao Changhe only had eight hundred men; the remaining two thousand or so were mostly abandoned elderly and disabled people.
Winter was approaching, and as was customary, the major human powers entrenched in Jigong Mountain would often purge the useless elderly and disabled.
These people, helpless and without the ability to survive, would ultimately become food for cannibalistic beastmen and bandits during the winter.
In chaotic times, human life was cheap as a dog.
No, they were worse than dogs.
This was the cruel food chain of Jigong Mountain, one that even Liao Changhe himself couldn't defy.
However, when one of his men took in a dozen or so fleeing elderly people, things spiraled out of control.
More and more elderly, sick, and wounded people risked their lives to enter Liao Changhe's territory and stubbornly settled down.
They couldn't be driven away, nor could they be killed.
Liao Changhe had no choice but to grit his teeth and settle these people, even allocating some of his stored grain to help them.
As he took in more and more people, the grain became increasingly scarce.
Soon, they might not even have soybeans left to eat.
Chen Ke looked at Liao Changhe and said with a bitter smile, "You're courting death."
Eight hundred warriors, survivors of countless battles, had established a foothold on Jigong Mountain and conquered a large territory, yet now they couldn't even afford a full meal.
Would anyone believe it if word got out?
The eight hundred warriors had retreated, leaving only Liao Changhe and eight centurions on the hillside.
Hearing Chen Ke's words, the nine men felt a bitter pang in their hearts and lowered their heads in sorrow.
Yes, they had been courting death, but it was too late for regrets.
Asking their benefactor to provide enough rations for three thousand people to get through the winter was simply too much to ask, an impossible task.
They only hoped to get as much food as possible, so that even one by one could survive.
Chen Ke pondered for a moment, then said solemnly, "I will find a way to provide food for the winter, but what about after that? Have you thought about that?"
The nine men were simultaneously jolted and abruptly raised their heads.
Liao Changhe's eyes lit up, and he hurriedly said, "Benefactor, we've accumulated quite a bit of gold and silver over the years, enough to buy grain. But the orcs suddenly retreated north, disrupting the situation at Jigong Mountain and cutting off trade routes. Once winter is over, we'll definitely find a way!"
A centurion, who looked like a clerk, suddenly interjected, "Benefactor, we already have a plan. Once we recover, we'll try to reopen the trade route through the Death Swamp. Then we can not only buy grain from the Purple Eagle Dynasty, but we can even open a trade route to Pearl City!"
Liao Changhe and the others were stunned for a moment, then quickly understood and nodded.
Regardless of their benefactor's identity, human nature is inherently driven by self-interest.
If they couldn't demonstrate their value, why would their benefactor help them through this difficult time?
The Death Swamp?
Chen Ke's heart skipped a beat: "The swamp that's inhabited by a group of demons?"
Liao Changhe hurriedly nodded: "My benefactor, you may not know, but although that swamp is vast, only one piece of land is suitable for survival. As long as we send a large force to eliminate those demons and humans, and occupy that area, we can control the entire swamp."
A map automatically appeared in Chen Ke's mind, and he was surprised to find that the most convenient entrance and exit to the mountainous area where Liao Changhe was based was indeed that swamp.
He nodded calmly and said in a deep voice: "Hold on for a few days. Don't make any rash moves before I return!"
"Yes!" the nine people responded in unison.
After Chen Ke had been gone for a long time, the nine people looked up and looked at each other.
"Boss, do you think our benefactor will help us?"
Liao Changhe looked in the direction Chen Ke had left and smiled bitterly: "Don't ask me, I don't know either."
Chen Ke hadn't actually gone too far; he was piloting the divine ship, wandering above the Death Swamp.
After circling around, he had a plan in mind. He took to the skies at full speed and flew towards the Great Xia City.
Back at his western suburban manor, Chen Ke rested for a while, then headed straight for the Chen family's distillery at dawn.
In the Great Xia Dynasty, any large-scale grain transaction required registration, so even money couldn't buy large quantities of grain.
Even the Chen family's granaries had a limited supply.
However, Chen Ke had a way, and without spending any money, because he was the court-appointed "Envoy of Strong Liquor."
Doesn't brewing require grain?
A large row of warehouses behind the distillery always stored a large amount of grain.
For the next four or five days, Chen Ke suddenly became very diligent, making four or five trips to the distillery a day.
The people at the distillery found it strange, but considering the new emperor was about to lead a personal expedition, they didn't think much of it.
On the fifth day at noon, a deafening cheer suddenly erupted from the distillery's research workshop.
Under the brilliant leadership of the "Messenger of Strong Liquor," they overcame countless difficulties, working tirelessly for five days and five nights without food or sleep, finally succeeding in purifying alcohol to a higher concentration!
The deputy steward happily ran to the palace to report the good news, while Chen Ke, protected by his guards, dragged his exhausted body home.
Secretly managing the grain in the storeroom every day had worn him out.
Mainly, he had to outwit and outmaneuver the two female guards sent by the princesses, which was mentally exhausting.
As night fell, in a canyon in the Western Mountains, the pig-trough-shaped divine vessel, loaded with grain, silently flew towards Jigong Mountain.
Upon reaching the airspace above Jigong Mountain, Chen Ke took out a blood-stained, tattered garment and put it on, then used the "Thousand-Faced Guanyin Technique" to transform into the appearance of his benefactor.
Looking at himself on the crystal screen, he then messed up his hair.
This should be enough.
The divine vessel landed in a desolate canyon, Chen Ke unloaded the grain, and then played his bamboo flute.
The bamboo flute was given to him by Liao Changhe. It made no sound when played, but Liao Changhe's scouts could accurately detect the sound waves it emitted.
Sure enough, not long after, a dark figure flashed behind Chen Ke.
"My benefactor?!"
"Xiao Wu?!"
Chen Ke's eyes widened. He never expected that this skinny boy was a scout.
Soon after, Liao Changhe arrived hurriedly with eight centurions. When the men saw the mountain of grain before them, their lips trembled, too moved to speak.
This grain was merely a drop in the ocean for three thousand men, but it represented their benefactor's kindness.
Through this grain, they saw hope for survival.
Looking at their benefactor, his clothes were tattered, his face haggard; clearly, he had paid a heavy price for this grain.
Like a mountain of gold and a pillar of jade collapsing, the nine men simultaneously knelt on the ground, weeping, "Our benefactor is so righteous! How could we not be willing to die for him?!"
Xiao Wu also knelt, sobbing uncontrollably, wiping away tears.
In his short memory, the scars of hunger were more than just unforgettable.
Chen Ke waved his hand, and all the gold and silver jewels from his two spatial rings flew out, piling up into another small mountain.
This money was all that he had casually looted during his trials; it was just taking up space, so it was better to give it to Liao Changhe and the others to buy food.
Chen Ke said hoarsely, "The White Bone Stronghold in the Death Swamp has been wiped out by my men. Send someone to take it over immediately."
The nine men trembled again, casting fervent gazes at their benefactor, then pressed their foreheads to the cold ground, bowing once more in submission!