Lao Huihui felt a trace of curiosity stir within him.
"Labor reform camp?" he asked. "What does that mean?"
Old Luo did not hesitate. "It is a place where people cleanse their past misdeeds through labor. The bandits captured in the Shangnan battle are all held there. Every day, they work and reform."
Lao Huihui raised an eyebrow. A hint of caution flashed through his eyes.
Old Luo continued calmly, as if he had already anticipated this reaction. "However, General, you and your men will not be sent there. Since the beginning of your uprising, your discipline has been strict. You have not burned villages, slaughtered civilians, or looted at will like other rebel groups. You only attacked imperial cities and seized imperial grain."
He paused, then added, "The Dao Xuan Tianzun has ruled that your actions count as demanding wages owed by force, not committing evil through violence. The nature is different. Therefore, no labor reform is required for you."
Lao Huihui listened quietly.
Terms like labor reform, wage collection, and classification of actions were all unfamiliar to him. They sounded strange, almost like some local jargon. He did not fully understand them, but the meaning was clear enough.
Most importantly, the Dao Xuan Tianzun did not see them as villains.
That alone brought a deep sense of reassurance.
Old Luo did not lead them through the main gates of the Tianzhu Mountain Labor Reform Camp. Instead, he guided them along a side path nearby. The group climbed higher, gradually separating from the camp itself.
Before them stood rows of newly built houses.
Old Luo smiled. "General, you and your men may stay here for now. Daily necessities and provisions will soon be delivered by the Dao Xuan Tianzun's envoys."
Lao Huihui stepped forward and bowed deeply. "Many thanks for your assistance."
Old Luo said nothing more. He simply laughed, turned his horse around, and made his way back down the mountain toward his village.
Lao Huihui immediately began arranging lodging for his men.
Three thousand soldiers selected their houses and settled in one after another. Not long after, a low rumbling sound echoed through the mountain paths.
Massive iron vehicles appeared.
They climbed the winding, S shaped road with ease, carrying enormous quantities of grain. The carts rolled to a stop, and sack after sack was unloaded and stacked high.
This was the first time Lao Huihui had ever seen such iron vehicles up close.
He had imagined many possibilities, but none prepared him for the shock. With just one glance, his scalp tingled.
If these things were used on the battlefield against cavalry, horsemen would have no chance at all.
While Lao Huihui's thoughts drifted toward military implications, his subordinates were fixated on something far more immediate.
The grain.
They gathered around the wagons, circling them again and again.
"All this grain," one man asked in disbelief, "is it really free for us?"
"Yes," the transport team captain replied with a smile. "For now, it is provided free of charge. Everyone receives a standard ration."
He added, "All soldiers will be supplied with beef. Soldiers of other ethnicities will receive pork. Please count how many Hui soldiers and how many of other backgrounds you have. That will help us prepare the next delivery."
There was a brief moment of stunned silence.
Then cheers erupted.
The feeling of having one's customs respected was deeply moving. It was not about meat alone. It was about being understood.
And only those who understand each other can truly become friends.
Lao Huihui, however, caught a subtle phrase.
For now.
He stepped forward and clasped his fists toward the captain. "Brother," he said, "there is a saying that no reward comes without merit. We are all able bodied men. It would not be right for us to accept aid forever without contributing. May I ask, in the future, what can we do to deserve this support?"
It was a carefully chosen question.
Instead of asking when the aid would stop, he offered his willingness to work. Only in this way could he accept the food with dignity.
The new generation of Gao Family Village transport captains were men with basic education. They could read, write, calculate, and express themselves clearly. The captain smiled faintly.
"Those blessed by the Dao Xuan Tianzun do not have their lives dictated by others," he said. "They choose their own path."
Lao Huihui frowned slightly, puzzled.
The captain continued, "If you wish to fight, you may join us as soldiers. If you do not wish to fight, you may join us as laborers. And if you choose not to join us at all, you are free to leave at any time. No one will restrain you."
He paused. "There is no need to decide immediately. Stay for a while. Observe. Then decide."
With that, he clasped his fists once more and led his team away.
Lao Huihui sat at the edge of a cliff, watching the iron vehicles disappear down the mountain road. Questions churned endlessly in his heart.
Very well, he thought. Since they told us to observe, then we will observe.
Early the next morning, Lao Huihui began.
He stepped out of his residence and immediately saw streams of labor reform prisoners emerging from the nearby camp. Each carried tools in hand. Some headed toward the fields to plow and fertilize. Others entered the textile factory, where the rhythmic clatter of looms echoed without pause. Still others went into the communal mess hall to prepare meals.
Tianzhu Mountain suddenly came alive.
From peak to foothill, people were working everywhere.
These were the laborers the captain had spoken of.
Lao Huihui's gaze swept across them. He recognized many faces. They were former subordinates of Guo Tianxing, Yi Dou Gu, and Wa Guanzi, captured during the Shangnan battle.
Once, they had been fierce rebel soldiers under the Chuǎng King.
Now, they swung hoes with energy and purpose.
Logically speaking, having fallen so far in status, they should have been miserable. But reality was the opposite.
They looked better than before.
Their clothes were clean. Their bodies were stronger. It was obvious they were eating full meals every day, no longer living hand to mouth, waking each morning wondering where food might come from.
Most striking of all were their expressions.
They were smiling.
Not forced smiles, but relaxed ones.
Lao Huihui looked at them. They noticed him as well.
One man waved excitedly. "Brother Lao Huihui! Have you been caught and sent here too?"
Lao Huihui did not correct him. He had come voluntarily, but there was no need to ruin the man's enthusiasm. He simply nodded, tacitly agreeing.
The prisoner beamed. "That's great! Brother Lao Huihui is a good man. You shouldn't be wandering outside anymore. It's really good here. After arriving, we all regretted not coming sooner."
Lao Huihui asked, genuinely curious, "What is so good about labor reform? Isn't it just being captured and forced to work?"
The prisoner snorted. "You're thinking about it wrong. When we were bandits, weren't we also forced? Forced to fight, forced to flee, hunted by government troops. No home. No safety. Never knowing if we'd eat tomorrow."
He continued, "Here, we don't worry about food or shelter. We have a place to live. Our lives aren't constantly at risk."
Lao Huihui fell silent.
He had never looked at it that way.
But compared like this, the difference was undeniable.