Wang Er turned to the militia.
"Fellow militia members," he announced, "you come from all walks of life, each with your own skills. Fighting isn't your primary talent; you're far better at getting work done."
The militia chuckled in agreement.
"That's right, that's right."
Wang Er continued,
"Now, Tianzun has a crucial task for all of you. We need to initiate a rapid construction effort in the Micang Mountains, establishing multiple mountaintop outposts, signal towers, and all the accompanying transportation and logistical systems…"
Upon hearing it was Tianzun's command, everyone's enthusiasm surged.
"Understood!" they declared.
"Excellent," Wang Er affirmed. "You understand this aspect better than I do. I ask that you begin planning immediately. If there's anyone here with expertise in this field, step forward now to propose a plan."
No sooner had he finished speaking than a middle-aged militiaman stepped forward from the ranks, carrying a hand crossbow and looking decidedly less like a fighter. As he walked, he unslung the crossbow and tossed it aside. Then he removed what appeared to be a helmet from his back and placed it on his head—
Only then did the others realize it was not a helmet at all, but a Blue Hat.
The surrounding militiamen gasped in astonishment.
"Good heavens, a Blue Hat! A senior technician! What are you doing serving as a militiaman?"
The Blue Hat chuckled.
"Defending our home and nation knows no status."
He approached Wang Er, snapped a salute, and declared,
"Designer from the Gao Family Village Architectural Institute, reporting for duty."
Wang Er produced a stack of papers—a concise topographical map of the Micang Mountains sketched by observers from a reconnaissance hot air balloon.
"Here's the map," he said. "Have a look."
The architectural designer took the map, studied it for a moment, then pulled out a pen and swiftly drew several circles.
"Here, here, and here… we can build outposts in these locations, each designed with living space for fifty soldiers, and signal towers erected on their roofs…"
He then drew several lines.
"These will be roads. We need to construct these routes to connect each outpost, allowing our vehicles to deliver supplies and deploy troops as quickly as possible."
Wang Er exclaimed,
"We're truly fortunate to have you! You've produced a plan so swiftly."
He raised the plan high.
"Workers, do you see this?"
"We see it!" the workers shouted back.
"Brothers from all trades, let's roll up our sleeves and get to work!" Wang Er rallied. "Before the second wave of bandits arrives, we must establish a defensive line that blocks their entry into Shaanxi—a line even more formidable than the Great Wall itself."
The crowd roared,
"Hoo-rah!"
Wang Er's gaze swept toward Mi Chuang Jiang.
Startled by Wang Er's imposing stare, Mi Chuang Jiang flinched.
"What do you want? Don't kill me!"
"You've seen the map in my hand, haven't you?" Wang Er asked.
Mi Chuang Jiang stammered,
"I've seen it, uh… but I don't understand it."
Wang Er pointed to the lines on the map.
"These are roads. They need people to build them."
Mi Chuang Jiang instantly grasped the meaning and quickly offered,
"My men will build! All my men will build the roads!"
Wang Er nodded.
"Work diligently on the roads, put in good labor, and you can soon become decent people again."
With the economic construction phase now in full swing, Wang Er immediately felt like an idiot; he understood nothing about it.
Just then, the Blue Hat stepped to the forefront, waving a hand.
"Cement Factory Militia! Immediately scout for a suitable site here and prepare to build a temporary cement factory to supply cement for the Micang Mountain outposts!"
A group of militiamen eagerly stepped forward.
"We're from the cement factory!"
"Are the brothers from the furniture factory here?"
"We are!" a group of carpenters shouted, stepping out.
"You, quickly cut some timber and construct a few wooden outposts for temporary use…"
"Yes, sir!"
"Militiamen from the pig farm, textile factory, and mess hall, you are responsible for everyone's meals."
"Alright!"
Tens of thousands of militiamen sprang into action, each expert in their own field. Every individual took charge of the work they knew best, and the workers from Gao Family Village were exceptionally skilled at large-scale, organized production.
In this regard, they had already far surpassed everyone else of this era.
The Prefect of Hanzhong had initially thought he could lend a hand with such internal affairs, but to his surprise, these militiamen didn't need his assistance at all. They quickly divided themselves into work groups and plunged into their various tasks.
The Prefect of Hanzhong simply stared, bewildered.
He suddenly realized he wasn't even as competent as the man wearing the Blue Hat.
The great, whistling trains, which had just been transporting soldiers, now suddenly switched to hauling production materials. All sorts of manufacturing and construction tools were brought in by the trains and distributed to every worker.
The workers laid down their weapons, picked up their tools, removed their helmets, and donned Yellow Hats, even breaking into song:
"Oh, the liberated zones!"
"Oh, the great production!"
"The army and people mobilized together, oh!…"
The Micang Mountains suddenly buzzed with more activity than Hanzhong Prefecture itself—
Meanwhile…
A fleet of ships slowly entered Japan's Nagasaki Port.
The great pirate Mang Er—ah, no, the great merchant Zheng Zhihu—dressed in merchant attire, a smile on his face, disembarked and strode onto the docks of Nagasaki Port.
At this time, Japan had already begun tightening its maritime policies. In another year, they would enter a period of national seclusion that would last for over a century, until Western "black ships" forced them open and initiated the Meiji Restoration.
Of course, even during its seclusion, Nagasaki Port would remain open.
Consequently, Japanese merchants flocked to Nagasaki, eager to embrace this last free trading port.
Zheng Zhihu was quite a renowned figure here. The moment he stepped off the ship, a local merchant approached, speaking in Chinese.
"Brother Mang Er, what brings you to Nagasaki?"
Zheng Zhihu laughed heartily.
"I've brought a batch of excellent goods."
"Excellent goods?" The local merchant's face immediately flushed with excitement. "What kind are they? Bring them out so we can all get rich!"
With a flourish, Zheng Zhihu pulled out a bottle of seafood soy sauce, then with another swift motion, a bottle of 53-proof Dao Xuan Tianzun Special-Blend Liquor. Another flourish produced a piece of Xilankapu brocade, followed by Chengcheng embroidery, Want Want Snow Crackers, Kiss Star Jellies, and Dove Chocolates…
Each item he produced was stranger and more outlandish than the last.
Yet, to the seafaring merchants, these utterly absurd items, while certainly peculiar, were far from unacceptable.
Merchants of the Age of Exploration would accept almost any bizarre, never-before-seen commodity. As long as it tasted good, looked attractive, or proved useful, there was no merchandise they wouldn't take.
The local merchant examined the curious goods, then sampled a few. His expression instantly shifted.
"Eh? Eh? Brother Mang Er, these goods you've brought this time… they're magnificent!"
Zheng Zhihu chuckled.
"Hehehe, let's be clear, they won't be cheap."
"Price is no issue," the merchant declared. "The more you charge me, the more I can charge the daimyō and samurai! Hahahaha!"