Mr. Bai felt weak in the knees as he watched the villagers shout with fanatical devotion. Combined with the Third Master's earlier behavior, everything became clear to him in an instant—
A cult.
This village was obviously operating like one.
That girl… she must be the saintess of some cult, much like the White Lotus Saint. And the "Heavenly Venerable" they kept talking about was essentially no different from the "Birthless Mother." The Ming Dynasty had been suppressing the White Lotus Sect for centuries without pause.
As a refined gentleman who prided himself on mastering the Six Arts, how could Mr. Bai possibly approve of cults?
He grabbed Thirty-Two and whispered urgently, "Is there a cult in this village? And you're mixing with these people?!"
Thirty-Two replied calmly, "If they worship an evil deity, that's a cult. If the deity is a good one, then it isn't."
Mr. Bai jabbed a finger toward the shouting villagers. "Listen to what they're yelling—'Afraid of their hammer'! If this isn't a cult, what is it?!"
Thirty-Two coughed lightly. "The Heavenly Venerable is… eclectic."
Mr. Bai stared at him. "Madness. All of you are insane."
Thirty-Two smiled faintly. "Mr. Bai, I get it. Truly. When I first came to this village, I had the same thoughts you're having now—until I saw the Heavenly Venerable cast spells with my own eyes."
Mr. Bai narrowed his gaze. "Cults always do this. The saintess 'sees' the god's miracles, but no one else does. Hmph."
"But you did see it just now," Thirty-Two said.
A giant question mark practically floated above Mr. Bai's head. "When did I see anything?"
Thirty-Two pointed toward the village gate. "When that sandstorm rose outside the walls and helped your servants and tenants escape inside. Did you feel the wind on your face?"
Mr. Bai opened his mouth—and froze.
Just now, he had been too busy running for his life to think. But now, recalling the scene carefully… the sandstorm had been raging outside, yet he'd stood hundreds of meters away and hadn't felt a single gust hit him.
"That wind," Thirty-Two said, "was the Heavenly Venerable casting a spell."
Mr. Bai suddenly didn't know whether he should believe or doubt.
Outside the village, the bandits had stopped advancing. After hearing the villagers shout in unison, they realized Gaojia Village had decided to resist.
Inside the walls, the villagers grew nervous. They had no combat experience and didn't know what to do. They looked at Thirty-Two—who also shook his head helplessly. So everyone went to seek Gao Yiye.
Gao Yiye spread her hands. "The Heavenly Venerable told us to prepare defenses first. He has something else to take care of for now."
Everyone: "..."
Thirty-Two grabbed Mr. Bai. "Mr. Bai, looks like you'll have to take command. You're the man who trained Baijiabao's militia—you know how to fight."
Mr. Bai stared at him. "I lost the battle and got thrown here!"
"The saying goes: lose once, learn once," Thirty-Two replied. "You're definitely better than us."
Mr. Bai sighed. "Fine… give it here."
The thieves had sent people to call for reinforcements. Their main force was still looting Baijiabao, so it would take at least four hours to return. They would arrive around evening—the village still had time.
Mr. Bai counted heads. Gaojia Village had about 150 people. Subtracting the old, weak, and women with no fighting ability, there were 70 usable villagers. Add his dozen surviving servants and sixty-plus tenants, and the total number of defenders was over a hundred.
Over a hundred men, backed by a two-meter city wall—that was survivable.
Mr. Bai regained his energy and began issuing orders:
"All strong men, move stones! Bring every large and small stone in the village to the wall. Large stones will brace the city gate from behind. Even if the bandits break through the wooden gate, they won't be able to charge inside."
"Medium stones will be used to smash anyone climbing the walls—especially above the gate! Pile more there. If they try to force the entrance, throw stones down and kill them."
"If we don't have enough stones, dismantle the stone house—"
He looked around. The village was full of shabby thatched huts. Only one building was made of stone—brand-new, standing out like a polished gem against the ruins:
"Daoxuan Heavenly Venerable Cave."
He was about to say, "Tear that down."
But Thirty-Two cut him off immediately. "That cannot be dismantled. If you demolish it… we'll have nowhere left to bury people."
Mr. Bai blinked.Ah. The entire cult-like village clearly intended to protect this shrine.
He tried again: "Is there any oil in the village? If so, we can boil it. When the bandits climb, pour boiling oil on their heads—"
He immediately regretted the question.
Judging by the village houses, this place was destitute. Thatched huts, ragged villagers, shacks leaning against the inner walls. How could they possibly have enough oil? At best, they could use boiling water—but water was far less effective than oil.
Just as he thought this, Thirty-Two shouted:
"You, you, you—and you! A dozen of you, go to the warehouse and bring out that big basin of oil! Prepare pots! Have the women boil it!"
The named villagers ran into a dilapidated storehouse and soon came out carrying a massive basin of oil.
The "basin" was originally a mineral water bottle cap, which—inside the box—had become a huge basin nearly a foot wide.
Luckily, it was only half full. Otherwise, a dozen villagers wouldn't have been able to carry it at all.
They set it down with a heavy thunk before Mr. Bai.
He stared in disbelief. "This much oil? And such good fragrance—rapeseed oil! In a drought year like this… Gaojia Village is this rich?"
Thirty-Two smiled. "The Heavenly Venerable's artifacts will surprise you again and again. Don't stand there stunned. What other defensive measures do you have?"
Mr. Bai snapped out of it. Time was running short. While suppressing his shock, he organized the hundred-plus defenders, assigning each group to a section of the wall. He explained how to respond if the bandits attacked from the east, west, gate, ladders, or rammed the entrance—coming up with all kinds of crude but workable strategies.
Meanwhile, Li Daoxuan had already gone downstairs.
He stood in front of a toy store's counter, carefully choosing among rows of children's toys…