You, a tyrannical ruler, roam the heavens; you cannot understand my joy.

West of Lin'an City, at the southern foot of Phoenix Mountain.

Just two weeks ago, this place was a barren hillside overgrown with miscellaneous trees.

But now it has changed...

Large tracts of land were leveled, and several peculiar cylindrical kilns stood in the distance, emitting billowing gray smoke.

Beside the kiln, newly dug earthen kilns are arranged like a honeycomb, and craftsmen are filling the kilns with a mixture of grayish-white powder.

It was nearly noon, but the autumn sun was still scorching.

A group of men dressed in tattered tunics dragged their heavy steps from the kiln area down the hillside to the camp.

They were all covered in dust and dirt, sweat etched deep lines on their faces, and their clothes on the backs were soaked and dried repeatedly, forming a layer of white salt frost.

"Damn it... this is even more tiring than working for the landlord..."

A man in his thirties was panting heavily, his legs trembling.

His name is Chen San, a native of Yizhou, Shandong. Last year, when the Jin army passed through, his village was burned down, and his wife and children were gone. He fled alone with the wave of refugees all the way to Jiangnan.

A man in his fifties standing nearby gave a wry smile: "Tired?"

"Could there be any hardship from fleeing famine?"

"Could you bear to watch your baby starve to death in your arms?"

These words struck a nerve with everyone.

In the group, a tall, thin young man licked his chapped lips and whispered, "Brother Wang, do you think... the imperial court can really offer so many benefits?"

"Three full meals a day, and you can still eat meat after ten days?"

"Are they trying to trick us into coming here to do hard labor, and then... after we're done..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone understood what he meant.

Once the work is finished, they probably won't even get a sip of porridge before being kicked out.

Old Wang sighed, his cloudy eyes gazing at the smoke rising from the campsite in the distance: "I've lived for fifty-two years, from the reign of Emperor Huizong to now, through three emperors, and I've never seen a government that truly treats us like human beings."

"But...but is there any other way?"

No.

Everyone knew the answer.

If they don't work, they can only go back to being refugees and starve to death under some bridge.

At least there's something to look forward to when you're working.

Even if this hope is 90% false.

Chen San touched his empty stomach, which was burning with pain.

He hasn't eaten anything properly for two days. The bowl of thin porridge he had this morning disappeared after he took a few steps.

Who cares?

He gritted his teeth and said, "I'll eat my fill as soon as possible."

"If it's really a lie, I... I'll accept it."

Despite saying that, his clenched fists were so tight that his nails dug deep into his palms.

......

The campsite was set up in a sheltered mountain valley, with a simple bamboo fence used to enclose an open space.

Dozens of large stoves were set up, and the smoke from them rose from here.

As Chen San and the others dragged their feet into the camp, a rich, long-lost fragrance wafted straight into their noses.

That's... the smell of meat?

Chen San suddenly raised his head, almost thinking he was hallucinating from hunger.

"Meat...it's meat!"

"My God, this meat smells amazing!"

The crowd stirred. The men, who had been lifeless, suddenly brightened up, their eyes gleaming like those of starving wolves.

In the open space in the center of the camp, there were more than a dozen large wooden barrels.

The first few buckets were piled high with steaming white steamed buns.

The bucket behind contained tender, stewed pork, with alternating layers of fat and lean meat, and oil floating on the broth, emitting a wonderful aroma.

There were also several large buckets filled with lush green vegetable soup, and you could see the green vegetable leaves inside.

An official, dressed in a blue robe and around thirty years old, stood beside the wooden tub, followed by several yamen runners.

The official was thin but energetic. Seeing the workers pouring in, he raised his voice: "Line up and collect your meals in groups!"

"Here are the rules: steamed buns are unlimited, meat and vegetables are served one spoonful per person, and soup is all you can drink!"

"But no fighting, no wasting!"

"Anyone who causes trouble will be immediately expelled from the workshop and never hired again!"

The crowd erupted in chaos.

"There's...there's really meat in it?!"

"White steamed buns...all you can eat?"

"Am I dreaming...?"

Chen San stood in line, his eyes fixed on the bowl in the hand of the person in front of him.

It was a large black earthenware bowl with two big white steamed buns inside, topped with a spoonful of oily stewed meat, and surrounded by a lot of vegetable soup.

When it was his turn, he handed over his bowl with trembling hands. The cook scooped up a spoonful of meat and placed it steadily in his bowl; the marbled pieces of meat quivered, and the broth seeped down the steamed bun.

Chen San, holding the bowl, walked to an open space and squatted down. He stared at the meat in the bowl for a full three breaths before suddenly grabbing a steamed bun and taking a big bite.

The sweet aroma of the white flour exploded in my mouth.

He picked up another piece of meat and stuffed it into his mouth.

It's fatty but not greasy, stewed until tender, and the savory, piping hot meat juice mixed with oil instantly fills your mouth.

Chen San's tears rolled down his cheeks without warning.

He chewed hard, swallowing large mouthfuls, tears streaming down his face along with the meat juices.

how many years?

Ever since the Jin soldiers arrived, he hasn't had a full meal, let alone meat.

On his journey to escape famine, he gnawed on tree bark, ate clay, and even fought with wild dogs for half a moldy piece of bread.

But now...

Now he is holding a steaming hot bun and meat, squatting in this mountain hollow that provides shelter from the wind and rain.

A suppressed sob came from the side.

Chen San turned his head and saw the old man, Wang, who was over fifty years old, with his face buried in the bowl and his shoulders shrugging.

The men squatting around him mostly had red eyes, and no one spoke, only the sound of them swallowing.

After everyone had almost finished eating, the official in the blue robe spoke again:

"Everyone! Please be quiet!"

The crowd gradually quieted down, and hundreds of eyes turned to him.

The official cleared his throat and announced in a loud voice, "My surname is Wang, and I am a principal officer in the Ministry of Works. By order of His Majesty, I am in charge of all matters related to the Phoenix Mountain Cement Workshop."

"There are some things I need to make clear to everyone."

"This meat isn't available every day."

Manager Wang's voice was loud and clear: "Considering that everyone has just arrived and is in poor health, for the first month, all three meals will include meat."

"After a month, we'll change it to 'meat every ten days,' meaning we'll eat meat once every ten days!"

The crowd gasped softly, but mostly expressed joy.

Even if it's only once every ten days, it's still meat!

"And one more thing!" Chief Wang continued, "Starting tonight, a medical tent will be set up outside the camp!"

"After work, everyone should go see a doctor. Anyone with old injuries or illnesses should go see one!"

"The imperial court will cover the cost of the medicine!"

"If any family member has an elderly person or a sick child, as long as they live within the Lin'an Prefecture area, they can be sent here! Consultation and medicine fees will be waived!"

The crowd erupted in cheers.

"The imperial court...the imperial court really provides medical treatment?"

My mother has been coughing for half a year...

"My child has been running a fever..."

Wang, the steward, waved his hand to silence the murmurs: "Once the new barracks are built, they'll be those cement brick houses, and everyone can bring their families to live with us!"

"The workshop will also run a 'workshop school,' where children aged six and above can attend without paying tuition!"

silence.

A long silence.

Then, someone shouted, "Long live the Imperial Court!"

"Long live Your Majesty!"

"Long live! Long live!"

The shouts were initially sparse, but soon they merged into a great chorus, echoing throughout the valley.

Chen San shouted along, until his voice became hoarse.

He didn't understand any grand principles; he only knew that the court that provided food, meat, medical care, and education for children was the court he would protect with his life.

Looking at the group of men in front of him, their faces flushed with excitement, Chief Wang smiled.

He recalled the words that Minister Shen had privately instructed him before he left the capital:

"His Majesty said that these refugees will become the most solid foundation of the Song Dynasty. If you treat them well, they will repay you with tenfold loyalty to the court."

Now it seems that His Majesty was right.

.....

Under the same autumn sun, in a secluded willow grove.

Three beggars were gathered around a campfire, in which several chickens covered in mud were buried.

"Old Liu, your beggar's chicken skills are getting better and better." A younger beggar rubbed his hands together, staring longingly at the fire.

The man called Old Liu was a beggar in his forties, his face weathered but his eyes bright. He chuckled, "That's right!"

"Even Chief Hong praised my cooking skills."

"When the chicken is ready, you two kids, don't fight over it. Take it to the injured brothers in the gang first."

"I know, I know." Another beggar swallowed hard. "I heard that a few days ago, several brothers were sent back from Jianghuai. They were all injured in a fight with Jin Gou."

"At least this chicken can help nourish the brothers."

In the past month, most of the elite members of the gang have been transferred to the north to assist the imperial court in resisting the Jin, leaving behind mostly the elderly, the weak, or those responsible for relaying messages.

They came out today to patrol the area for any suspicious persons, and incidentally caught a few pheasants for a treat.

Oil sizzled out from the cracks in the mud, and the aroma grew stronger.

Old Liu figured the time was about right and was about to use a stick to pry the mud out when footsteps suddenly came from outside the woods.

The three beggars were all seasoned veterans and immediately became alert. Old Liu gripped the short stick tucked into his waistband and hissed, "Who's there?"

Six people slowly emerged from the depths of the willow grove.

They wore crimson monk robes, yellow rooster-comb hats, and large Buddhist beads around their necks.

The three in the lead were older, with gaunt faces and sunken eyes, but prominent temples. The three behind them were younger, with sharp, eagle-like eyes.

Lamas of the Esoteric Buddhism in the Western Regions?

Old Liu felt a chill run down his spine; the sudden appearance of these lamas was definitely not a good thing.

"Gentlemen, what brings you here?" Old Liu clasped his hands in greeting and secretly gave his two companions a wink.

The leading lama was about fifty years old, with slanted eyes. His gaze swept over the three beggars and finally landed on the beggar's chicken in the fire.

A sneer curled at the corner of his mouth: "The Central Plains Beggars' Clan, as expected, are all filthy scum. Stealing chickens and dogs in broad daylight."

That was extremely impolite of you to say it.

The young beggar immediately flew into a rage: "What did you say?!"

Old Liu held him down and said in a deep voice, "Master, we are cooking here and have not violated any laws."

"If there's nothing else, please feel free to do as you please."

The lama laughed, his laughter dry and hoarse like the cawing of a crow: "The law? What right do your Song Dynasty's laws have over me, a Buddha?"

He took a step forward, his monk's robes fluttering even without wind: "I've heard that your Beggars' Sect has now become the court's lackeys, helping that Emperor Zhao fight against the Jin Dynasty?"

"How utterly despicable."

Old Liu's expression changed: "Who exactly are you?"

"Why did you insult my Beggars' Sect?"

"I am Tenzin, the master of the Great Wheel Monastery of Esoteric Buddhism."

The lama said coldly, "I've come today to tell you scum of the Central Plains martial arts world what's what."

"Opposing Buddhism leads only to death."

Before he finished speaking, a young lama behind Tenzin flashed to the young beggar's side, his right hand forming a claw, and went straight for his heart!

The young beggar was shocked and tried to back away, but it was too late.

boom!

A short stick was thrust in, blocking the claw.

Old Liu's hand trembled violently, and the short stick almost slipped from his grasp; he was horrified.

This young lama's inner strength is so profound!

"Oh? That's interesting." Tenzin raised an eyebrow. "Unfortunately, an ant is still an ant."

As soon as he finished speaking, two other young lamas attacked simultaneously.

One lunged at the other beggar, while the other, in coordination with the first, attacked Old Liu from both sides with its claws out.

Old Liu shouted loudly and unleashed the "Entangling Silk Staff Technique," a direct descendant of the Beggars' Sect, wielding his short staff with impenetrable skill.

Having immersed himself in the art of stick fighting for thirty years, he managed to temporarily block the two men's attacks in his desperate struggle.

But he knew in his heart that he couldn't hold on for long.

Sure enough, after ten moves, a moment of carelessness led to a lama's hand slashing across his left rib, leaving three bloody marks.

Another lama seized the opportunity to grab his wrist with one hand and twist it forcefully!

"Snap!"

The sound of the wrist bone breaking was clearly audible.

Old Liu groaned in pain as his short stick fell to the ground. Before he could react, he was struck hard in the chest.

He was sent flying backward, crashing into a willow tree, spitting out blood.

"Uncle Liu!" The young beggar's eyes widened in horror as he tried to rush over, but his opponent pierced his shoulder blade with a claw, and he screamed as he knelt on the ground.

The other beggar fared even worse; his neck was snapped by his opponent, and he collapsed to the ground, his eyes still open.

Tenzin strolled leisurely to the fire and kicked the mud ball containing the roasting chicken. The mud ball rolled away, revealing a golden-brown chicken inside, its aroma filling the air.

"What a pity," he said indifferently, then stomped down.

*Pfft*...

The roast chicken was trampled to pieces and buried in the mud.

Old Liu leaned against the tree root, watching helplessly as one of his two young companions died tragically and the other was seriously injured. His own wrist was broken, and he didn't know how many ribs were broken. Blood kept gushing from his mouth.

Tenzin walked up to him, looked down at him, his eyes devoid of any emotion: "Go back and tell Hong Qigong, and that so-called Huang Yaoshi, that the Thirteen Masters of Tantric Buddhism have arrived in the Central Plains."

"Let them wash their necks clean and wait for the Buddha to come and take their lives."

He paused, then added, "As for your emperor... tell him that blaspheming against Buddhism will surely incur divine retribution."

After saying this, Tenzin turned around and, with five lamas, disappeared silently into the depths of the willow grove, just as he had come.

……

As the sun sets, its afterglow turns blood-red, and the campfire in the willow grove gradually dies out.

The aroma of roast chicken had not yet dissipated, but it was already mixed with a strong smell of blood.

Old Liu struggled to his feet, and with his unbroken right hand, tore off a piece of his shirt to barely bandage his wound.

He glanced at his dead companion, then at the severely injured and unconscious young beggar, gritted his teeth, and staggered away into the distance.

Old Liu had only walked a few miles when his expression changed drastically, and he stopped in his tracks.

Before us, in the wilderness, lay dozens of corpses, all of them Beggar Clan disciples!

"Son of a bitch!"

"You bastards, you Tantric practitioners!"

"Our Beggars' Sect will fight you to the death!"