Liu Guangzuo lowered his voice and muttered,
"The Emperor probably did give him a hundred thousand taels back then. But think about it—disaster relief, pacifying rebels, resettling refugees… that money must've been burned clean long ago. I bet he's flat broke by now. The nickname 'Wu Ten Thousand' doesn't really hold up anymore."
Hu Dawei snorted in disdain.
"Nonsense! If I had a hundred thousand taels, I couldn't spend it all even in a lifetime. Absolutely couldn't!"
"That's because it's you," Liu Guangzuo shot back. "Give me a hundred thousand taels, and I'd wipe it out in under two months."
As the two bickered in low voices, the civil officials ahead finally finished their formal greetings.
Hu Dawei straightened his robes. "Our turn. Let's go."
"Right."
The two of them stepped forward together and cupped their fists.
"Governor," Hu Dawei said, "this humble officer is Brigadier General Hu Dawei."
"Brigadier General Liu Guangzuo," Liu added quickly.
Wu Shen nodded politely.
"General Hu, General Liu. I'll be counting on both of you for suppressing bandits in the future."
It was nothing more than polite courtesy. In truth, Wu Shen already planned to hand bandit suppression over to Xing Honglang, Lao Nanfeng, and Bai Mao. These two… he had no intention of leaning on them too heavily.
Hu Dawei, completely unaware that he had just been politely shelved, pointed curiously at the long procession of carts and packhorses behind Wu Shen.
"Governor Wu," he asked, "what exactly did you bring with you this time?"
Wu Shen answered without hesitation, his voice clear and proud:
"Silver. One million taels."
The air froze.
"What?!" Hu Dawei blurted out.
"Bloody hell!" Liu Guangzuo nearly jumped out of his boots.
Nearby civil officials, who had been pretending not to listen while listening with their whole souls, all stiffened at once.
"A million taels?"
"Impossible. Absolutely impossible."
"He must be bluffing."
"How could there be that much money?"
Wu Shen didn't bother arguing. He strode over to one of the large carts and yanked away the oiled canvas covering a wicker basket.
Flash—!
Silver light burst forth.
The basket was packed to the brim with silver ingots, gleaming coldly under the sun.
"Whoa—!"
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
Wu Shen turned back, his voice carrying clearly across the gathering.
"I have brought with me one million taels of pure silver," he declared. "I intend to rebuild Shanxi, to make it prosperous and secure, to ensure the people live in peace and contentment. Gentlemen—if you are willing to work with me, then let us put this silver to good use and build properly. But if anyone intends to obstruct me…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
Instead—
Thud!
The soldiers escorting the silver took a single synchronized step forward.
Armor clanked. Boots struck the ground in perfect unison.
The sound landed like a hammer on every heart present.
Civil and military officials alike stiffened.
They all assumed these were Wu Shen's personal household guards.
In these times, that wasn't unusual. Powerful civil officials often maintained private forces—men like Hong Chengchou and Lu Xiangheng were prime examples.
It was just that…
Wu Shen's "household guards" were absurdly luxurious.
Every man wore armor. Every man carried an arquebus.
A private force worthy of someone who casually carried a million taels of silver.
Without another word, the officials bowed deeply in unison.
"From this day forward," they declared, "we shall follow Governor Wu's lead!"
That day, Wu Shen shed an old nickname.
No longer was he Wu Ten Thousand.
From that moment on, he became—
Wu One Million.
Yingzhou, Southeast of the City — Beilou Village
A detachment of Manchu cavalry advanced cautiously toward the village.
The Manchu general at the head of the formation wore a grim expression.
Recently, Manchu scouting parties had repeatedly blundered into Ming ambushes. Nearly a thousand soldiers had been lost, and hundreds of warhorses captured.
Huang Taiji was furious.
Raiding the Great Ming only to bleed like this—what kind of bargain was that?
He had already ordered all banner troops: be cautious. If a raid failed, retreat immediately. No dying just to snatch a little loot.
As for why the Ming army had suddenly become so dangerous…
That wasn't something battlefield scouts could uncover.
Spies would have to be sent. The truth would have to be dug out slowly.
This unit's orders were simple: proceed carefully, and retreat at the first sign of danger.
"That village ahead is Guanlou Village," a scout reported. "About 120 residents. No sign of Ming troops."
"Good," the general said sharply. "Raid fast, then withdraw immediately. No lingering."
Just as he finished speaking—
Inside Beilou Village
Lao Nanfeng, dressed head to toe like a villager, was delivering a spirited pep talk to the other 120 "villagers."
"This isn't your first performance," he said cheerfully. "Last time, you played Manchus in A Little Soldier from the Daling River Border Army. I trust your acting skills."
The "villagers" laughed.
"Relax, Brother Nanfeng. We can play warriors and cowards."
Lao Nanfeng threw his head back and laughed.
"I'm watching all of you. After this battle, whoever performs well gets promoted—to an important supporting character. With actual lines!"
The crowd exploded.
"Lines?!"
"With lines," Lao Nanfeng nodded solemnly, "comes the chance to rise. Supporting role or lead—it all depends on your acting."
The "villagers" bounced with excitement.
"Damn, I want to be a lead just once!"
"Even being a supporting character like Commander Chen would be amazing."
"Are you crazy? You want Commander Chen's role?"
"So what? He's famous now! I don't care how he got famous—as long as he is!"
As the chatter continued, a beautiful woman stepped out of a nearby house—the courtesan.
She asked hesitantly, "Brothers… does my outfit still look like a village girl's?"
Everyone shook their heads at once.
"Not even a little."
She fell silent.
"You can't play a village girl," Lao Nanfeng said flatly. "Just stay inside. Hide properly, set up the camera, and don't cause trouble. Whatever you do—don't run out and ruin the show."
She lowered her head awkwardly. "Sorry… I've caused trouble for everyone."
The "villagers" immediately protested.
"No trouble at all!"
"Having a lady around boosts morale!"
Lao Nanfeng laughed and scolded them,
"A bunch of soft-legged fools—your knees turn to jelly the moment you see a beauty!"
Just then—
A whistle pierced the air from outside the village.
Lao Nanfeng's eyes lit up.
"They're here," he grinned. "Manchu scouts. Gentlemen—take your places."
The "villagers" scattered instantly.
Some squatted under the eaves weaving bamboo strips.
Some dug soil behind their houses.
Some stood by the latrine, scooping manure.
Others climbed rooftops to patch tiles.
Little Beilou Village looked peaceful, harmless—
A place that couldn't possibly hide danger.