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

At dusk, outside the gate of the Jianghuai Grand Camp, the setting sun was like blood.

A blood-covered figure stumbled towards the barricade, startling the Song soldiers on duty who immediately raised their spears: "Halt!"

"Who is it?"

"Old Liu, a branch leader of the Beggars' Sect... requests an audience with Chief Hong..."

Old Liu was panting heavily, his left hand tightly clutching his right rib.

The simple bandages there were soaked with dark red blood.

His right wrist was twisted unnaturally, and his face was bloodless, but he stubbornly refused to fall.

The soldiers looked at each other in bewilderment. The name of Hong Qigong of the Beggars' Sect was now known to everyone in the Jianghuai camp.

That old beggar who assisted Commander Han in training troops alongside Huang Yaoshi was a top-tier master capable of shattering a millstone with a single palm strike.

"Wait here!" A platoon leader turned and ran into the camp.

Before long, a figure in blue swept out of the gate like the wind.

Hong Qigong was still wearing his patched-up beggar's clothes, but now his usually smiling face was so gloomy it could drip water.

"Old Liu?" Hong Qigong recognized him at a glance as an old brother from the Lin'an branch. His expression changed drastically, and he rushed forward to support him: "What happened?!"

"Boss..."

When Old Liu saw Hong Qigong, his body went limp and he almost collapsed: "West Willow Forest... six Tantric lamas... Brother Zhang is dead, and Little Wang is seriously injured..."

"They...they said they wanted to take your and Island Master Huang's lives...and they also said the Emperor was blaspheming Buddhism..."

He recounted the events haltingly, and with each sentence he spoke, Hong Qigong's face darkened further.

Upon hearing that "the thirteen masters of Tantric Buddhism have arrived in the Central Plains" and "blasphemy against Buddhism will surely be punished by Heaven," a terrifying glint flashed in Hong Qigong's eyes.

"Very well, very well indeed." The old beggar's voice was as cold as ice: "Buddha?"

"I'll send you all to meet the real Buddha today!"

He helped Old Liu sit down, and with lightning speed, pressed several acupoints on his chest. Then, he took out a porcelain bottle from his pocket, poured out a pill, and stuffed it into Old Liu's mouth: "Swallow it, you won't die."

After saying that, he turned to the several Beggars' Sect disciples who had rushed over from the camp upon hearing the news: "Take good care of your Uncle Liu."

"Master, where are you going?" a disciple asked urgently.

"kill."

With those two words uttered, Hong Qigong's figure soared up like a roc, disappearing into the twilight in a few leaps. The direction he headed was none other than the West Willow Grove that Old Liu had pointed out.

.....

What kind of lightness skill did Hong Qigong possess?

Before half an incense stick's time had passed, they had arrived at the West Willow Grove.

He squatted down, picked up a clump of soil with his fingers, and carefully examined his surroundings, his eyes sweeping across the ground like lightning.

Although most of the day had passed, the six lamas did not make any effort to cover their tracks when they left. There were still shallow footprints on the grass, pointing west.

"They went into the mountains?"

Hong Qigong sneered, "You can run away, but you can't hide!"

He followed the trail, his figure flickering like a ghost in the night.

They chased for about twenty miles and entered a narrow valley.

The mountain walls on both sides are steep, and a stream flows gently through the valley. As the moon rises, it illuminates the scenery in the valley in a hazy light.

Right there on the open ground by the stream, a bonfire was lit at six o'clock, and six crimson figures sat around it, roasting something on a stick over the fire.

The aroma of meat wafted over, mixed with a few unintelligible words in foreign languages ​​and low laughter.

Hong Qigong quietly hid behind a boulder and squinted to see that what was strung on the wooden branch were several skinned wild rabbits.

On the grass by the campfire, there were a few tattered clothes lying around, which were what Lao Liu and his men were wearing today!

"Beast!" Hong Qigong cursed inwardly, his killing intent reaching its peak.

He no longer hid, but stood up and stepped out of the shadows.

The footsteps startled the lamas by the campfire. The six of them turned around in unison and saw that the newcomer was a ragged old beggar. They were taken aback at first, then showed contempt.

"Another beggar?" Tenzin Rinpoche scoffed in broken Chinese, "There are quite a few beggars in the Central Plains."

Hong Qigong stopped three zhang (approximately 10 meters) in front of the campfire, the moonlight illuminating his grim face: "Did you kill my Beggars' Clan brothers?"

Danzeng raised an eyebrow, glanced at Hong Qigong a few times, and suddenly laughed: "So you're from the Beggars' Clan."

"What, here for revenge?"

He stood up, brushing the grass clippings off his monk's robe: "The Buddha is in a good mood today. If you kneel down and kowtow three times, and cut off your own arm, the Buddha will spare you..."

Before he could finish speaking, Hong Qigong struck out with his palm!

"roar!"

A dragon's roar suddenly rang out!

A visible, pale golden aura surged forth like an angry dragon emerging from the sea, whipping up sand, stones, and vegetation before crashing headlong into Danzeng!

The dragon that soars too high will regret it!

In a moment of haste, Tenzin unleashed both palms, using the Tantric Great Hand Seal to meet the attack head-on.

boom!

The deafening roar echoed through the valley, and Tenzin was sent flying backward like a kite with a broken string, crashing into the mountainside behind him, with rocks falling down in a shower.

He barely managed to stand, then felt a sweet taste in his throat and spat out a mouthful of blood. His sleeves were torn to shreds, and the bones in his forearms were strangely bent.

"You...you are Hong Qigong?!" Danzeng was utterly shocked.

The other five lamas then realized what was happening and rushed forward with a roar.

The two men wielded vajras, while the three men were unarmed. Their moves were ruthless, and the wind howled, sealing off all of Hong Qigong's escape routes.

Hong Qigong didn't even look, his body turned like a swimming dragon, his left palm drew a circle and his right palm pushed straight out.

Hey!

Another dragon roared.

Two dragons emerge simultaneously!

Hong Qigong's left palm, with its supple and long-lasting energy, deflected the two vajras, while his right palm, with its unparalleled strength, struck a lama squarely in the chest.

Click!

His sternum was completely shattered!

The lama's eyes bulged out, and he flew backwards for three zhang (approximately 10 meters), landing lifeless.

Click!

His sternum was completely shattered!

The lama's eyes bulged out, and he flew backwards for three zhang (approximately 10 meters), landing lifeless.

"The first one."

Hong Qigong's voice was icy, and his footwork changed rapidly. He had already flashed to the side of another lama holding a pestle and swept out with a "Dragon Tail Swing".

puff!

The lama was struck in the side and sent flying, crashing into a boulder by the stream. He slid down softly, bleeding from all seven orifices.

"The second one."

The remaining three lamas were terrified. One of them let out a strange cry and turned to flee.

How could Hong Qigong let him leave?

He caught up with lightning speed and struck him directly in the back with a "sudden attack".

Bang!

The lama was struck in the back of the hand and fell to the ground, twitching twice before becoming still.

The third.

In the blink of an eye, three of the six were gone.

Tenzin was terrified and screamed, "Form the formation..."

Before he could finish speaking, Hong Qigong appeared before him like a ghost and struck him on the top of the head with a palm.

Tenzin raised his arm in horror to block...

Click!

Despite having both arms severed, Tenzin's palm strike remained undiminished, landing solidly on Tenzin's head.

puff...

Red and white substances splattered, and Tenzin's body swayed before collapsing to the ground.

"The fourth one."

Hong Qigong turned around and looked at the last two young lamas who were frozen in fear. The two exchanged a glance, then lunged forward from the left and right with strange cries, already in a desperate stance.

"madness."

"The dragon soars in the sky!"

"The dragon appears in the field!"

The two palms struck the two men in the chest almost simultaneously. They were sent flying like ripped sacks, crashing into each other and tumbling into the stream, where they fell silent.

"The fifth and the sixth."

From the moment Hong Qigong made his move to the deaths of the six men, it took no more than ten breaths.

The valley returned to silence, broken only by the crackling of the campfire and the sizzling sound of the roasting rabbit dripping oil.

Hong Qigong walked up to the only lama who was still breathing, who was Danzeng, who had been blasted away by "Kanglong Youhui" at the beginning.

This person possessed the deepest skill; although both arms were broken and his internal organs were severely injured, he was still clinging to life.

The old beggar squatted down and looked at him coldly: "How many people from the Tantric sect came? What is their purpose? Speak, and I'll give you a quick death."

Blood kept gushing from Tenzin's mouth, his eyes filled with fear, yet he clenched his teeth.

Without saying a word, Hong Qigong poked the wound on his severed arm with one finger.

"what!"

"Ten, thirteen masters...each leading ten disciples...coming from the east..."

Danzeng convulsed in pain: "Kill, kill Hong Qigong, Huang Yaoshi... destroy the Beggars' Sect, Peach Blossom Island... find an opportunity to assassinate, assassinate the Song Emperor..."

"Why kill the emperor?"

"The Living Buddha...said that the Song Emperor desecrated Buddhism...and seized, seized from my Tantric Buddhism..."

Before he could finish speaking, Hong Qigong struck him with his palm, ending his suffering.

The old beggar stood up, looking at the corpses scattered on the ground, his eyes devoid of emotion. He bent down and rummaged inside Tenzin's monk's robe, pulling out a copper plaque engraved with Tantric mantras. He then searched the other five corpses, finding five similar plaques.

"Thirteen masters...one hundred and thirty people..." Hong Qigong muttered to himself, his expression becoming solemn.

Although he was not afraid, he knew that if this force were to infiltrate the Central Plains and cause trouble, it would be extremely dangerous.

Especially...

They dared to plot to assassinate the emperor!

"We must inform Han Shizhong immediately."

Hong Qigong didn't linger; with a flash, he disappeared into the night.

......

That night, in the central command tent of the Jianghuai camp.

After listening to Hong Qigong's story, Han Shizhong slammed his fist on the table and stood up, causing the command quiver on the general's desk to rattle loudly.

"What a Tantric sect! What a bunch of Tibetan monks! How dare they plot to assassinate His Majesty!" The veteran general, his beard and hair bristling, revealed a murderous intent in his eyes.

Huang Yaoshi sat to one side, his slender fingers lightly tapping the table, and said calmly, "One hundred and thirty people, each one a first-rate master. The Tantric sect is certainly willing to spare a lot of resources for this."

"Your Majesty's martial arts are divine, so you have nothing to fear from these petty villains."

Han Shizhong said in a deep voice, "But it's easy to dodge a spear in the open, but hard to guard against an arrow in the dark."

"If they break into smaller groups and carry out assassinations in secret, they will ultimately pose a threat."

"Chief Hong, what's your opinion on this matter?"

Hong Qigong took a swig of wine, wiped his mouth, and said, "I've already killed six."

"The remaining 124, kill them one by one, kill two by two. But..."

"I'm afraid they won't target us, but will instead pick on the weak... such as high-ranking officials in the imperial court, or officials in various prefectures and counties."

Huang Yaoshi nodded: "Brother Hong is right."

"Your Majesty must be reminded to take precautions in this matter."

Han Shizhong immediately sat down, spread out paper and pen, and personally drafted a memorial.

He wrote very quickly, yet his handwriting was neat and powerful. He wrote down everything Hong Qigong had said, and at the end, he earnestly requested His Majesty to strengthen vigilance and to allow fellow martial artists to assist in the suppression.

After writing it, he sealed it with sealing wax and summoned his personal guards: "Send this by express courier, eight hundred li straight to the capital, to be presented to His Majesty in person!"

"yes!"

The guard took it with both hands, turned around, and ran out of the tent.

......

Several days later, in the Imperial Study of the Imperial Palace in Yingtian Prefecture.

Autumn is in full swing outside the window, and a few sycamore leaves have fallen to the steps.

Minister of Revenue Li Wenyuan bowed and said, "As of yesterday, cement workshops across the country have resettled more than 437,000 displaced people."

"However, according to reports from various prefectures and counties, the refugees from the north are still migrating south, and this year, the Huaihe River Basin and the Jinghu North Circuit have suffered from drought and locusts, resulting in a large number of disaster victims."

"A rough estimate suggests that there are still no fewer than 500,000 displaced people in urgent need of resettlement."

On the dragon throne, Lu Zuo frowned slightly and pondered, "Five hundred thousand..."

How many more employees can the cement factory hire?

"Your Majesty, the expansion of the workshop will take time and requires skilled craftsmen to lead it."

"At the current scale, we can absorb at most another 100,000."

Li Wenyuan smiled bitterly: "If we rely solely on distributing porridge to provide relief, the daily grain consumption will be astronomical."

Lu Zuo nodded. Although he had confiscated the property of corrupt officials such as Qin Hui and obtained nearly ten million taels of silver, he still needed money for military support, construction projects, and disaster relief. Even mountains of gold and silver could not withstand such consumption.

Just as he was pondering this, a eunuch came to report: "Your Majesty, an urgent memorial has arrived from the Jianghuai Camp, traveling 800 li."

"Bring it here."

Lu Zuo unfolded Han Shizhong's memorial and quickly skimmed through it.

Upon seeing the message "Thirteen Tantric masters led one hundred and thirty disciples eastward with the intention of assassinating someone," he raised an eyebrow and chuckled softly.

"Your Majesty?" Li Wenyuan asked in confusion.

"It's nothing." Lu Zuo casually tossed the memorial onto the table: "A few foreign monks won't be able to cause trouble for long."

He really didn't take it to heart.

Over the past month, although the cultivation points gained from "tyrannical behavior" each day were not as explosive as in the early stages, they accumulated little by little, and my strength has improved considerably.

If he were to exert all his strength now, he was confident he could fight his way through thousands of troops...

The premise is that they don't get surrounded and worn down to death.

A master of Tantric Buddhism?

Ah, just in time!

Just then, a report came from outside the door: "Minister of Works Shen Gai requests an audience."

"Announce."

Shen Gai strode in, his face beaming with barely suppressed joy, and bowed deeply: "Your Majesty!"

"Allicin has been successfully developed!"

Lu Zuo's eyes lit up, and he sat up straight: "Really? Let me see it!"

Shen carefully took out a small white jade bottle from his bosom and presented it with both hands.

Lu Zuo took it, uncorked it, and a strong smell of garlic mixed with alcohol wafted out. The liquid in the bottle was pale yellow and slightly cloudy.

"After repeated experiments with the chief craftsmen of the Directorate of Works, I finally came up with this method."

Shen said excitedly, "Soak minced garlic in strong liquor, then distill, extract, and precipitate it..."

"The resulting liquid can indeed prevent wounds from festering!"

"We have already tested this medicine on wounded soldiers; their previously red, swollen, and festering wounds healed after three days of application!"

"good!"

Lu Zuo was overjoyed: "How many can you produce in a month?"

Shen hesitated for a moment: "Your Majesty, the technology is currently in its initial stages, and we lack manpower and equipment... Our monthly output is less than a thousand catties."

"But if we expand the workshop and train artisans, we can produce 10,000 jin (5,000 kg) within a year!"

Lu Zuo pondered for a moment and said, "First, all existing production should be sent to the Jianghuai camp and handed over to Han Shizhong for allocation."

"Tell Han Shizhong that this medicine is precious and should be used on seriously wounded soldiers first."

"I obey your decree!"

"Secondly, following the example of cement workshops, we set up garlic extract workshops in various places, specifically recruiting migrant workers."

"As for the raw material, garlic..."

He looked at Li Wenyuan: "Minister Li."

"Your subject is here."

"The imperial court would purchase land from wealthy households across the country specifically for garlic cultivation."

"Price...50% below market price!"

"Anyone who dares to refuse to sell will be punished for deceiving the emperor, obstructing the Northern Expedition, and treason!"

Upon hearing this, the air in the imperial study suddenly froze.

Li Wenyuan suddenly raised his head, his face drained of color instantly, and his lips trembled uncontrollably.

Half the market price?

This...this is not buying, it's outright robbery!

As the head of the Ministry of Revenue, he knew all too well what land meant to powerful local families; it was not only wealth, but also a symbol of their family's foundation and status.

Your Majesty's actions are tantamount to wielding a knife and directly cutting off the lifeline of the gentry and powerful people of the land!

It is foreseeable that once this decree is issued, it will cause a huge upheaval, shake the court and the public, and may even incite local instability.

He could almost see countless memorials flying to the capital like snowflakes, and hear the clenched teeth and furious curses of powerful families across the country as they colluded.

A chill ran from his tailbone straight up to the top of his head, making him almost unable to stand.

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty..."

Li Wenyuan wanted to suggest that this matter required careful consideration and a gradual approach, and proposed increasing the compensation with more money and grain, or perhaps finding a more lenient pretext...

But when he met those calm, unfathomable eyes on the throne, all the words stuck in his throat.

There was no room for negotiation in those eyes, only an absolute will to survey the land and decide life and death.

He instantly understood that His Majesty had already weighed the options and made up his mind, and any suggestion to "take a long-term view" would seem foolish and superfluous at this moment.

Shen Gai, who was standing to the side, was also deeply shaken.

Although he was the Minister of Works, in charge of the construction work, he was also well aware of the sensitivity and complexity of land affairs.

His Majesty's methods were far more ruthless and his determination far exceeded his expectations.

This is no longer an economical purchase!

It was, in fact, a complete political and power struggle disguised as a business transaction.

Using the righteous cause of the Northern Expedition and the grave crime of treason as the blade, no wealthy family could bear such a accusation.

This method...

Too ruthless, too fast, and too daring!

"Shen Gai." Lu Zuo's voice pulled Shen Gai back from his turbulent thoughts.

"Your subject is here!"

"The Ministry of Works will fully cooperate with the Ministry of Revenue."

"After the official garlic fields are designated, the selection and breeding of superior varieties and the guidance on cultivation will be the responsibility of your Ministry of Works, Directorate of Works."

"What I want is a large quantity of good garlic, delivered quickly."

"Your Majesty, I obey your command and will certainly not fail in your trust!" Shen Gai took a deep breath and solemnly replied.

"Furthermore," Lu Zuo continued, "the purchased land will be given to the displaced people to cultivate."

"The imperial court provided garlic seeds and farming tools, while the displaced people contributed their labor."

"The garlic produced will be purchased by the imperial court at market price."

"But there is one condition: anyone who cultivates the garlic fields of the imperial court for ten years without any arrears or abandonment will have the cultivated fields given to him by the imperial court free of charge, with a contract as proof, and they will never be taken back."

"certainly."

"The land granted may only be cultivated by the owner; it may not be bought, sold, or mortgaged."

"If farmers are unable to cultivate the land, the imperial court must take them back and select other displaced people to be employed."

"In short, the land will always circulate in the hands of the imperial court, but the tiller will always own the land."

"Remember, when buying land, be quick and ruthless!"

"The treatment of the garlic-growing migrants is similar to that of the cement workers: they are fed, paid, have access to medical care, and their children can attend school."