In the thirteenth year of the Tianbao era: I became Yang Guozhong's eldest son.

When leaving the shantytown, Yang Xuan did not take Old Huang back to the county government office directly.

He knew that the county government was too big a target, and that the Tian and Hu families had spies everywhere.

If Old Huang were allowed to go directly to the county government office, it would not only immediately expose their intentions, but also bring about the death of Old Huang and his grandson.

"Afu," Yang Xuan instructed, "find a secluded house in the west of the city and settle Old Man Huang and his grandson there. Tell everyone that they are distant relatives who have come to seek refuge. Find two reliable brothers to protect them secretly for twelve hours a day."

"Yes, my lord." Afu nodded cleverly.

"Furthermore," Yang Xuan turned to Cui Shen, "Didn't Yanhe take over an unused pharmacy in the city? Use the backyard of the pharmacy as a cover to secretly set up a workshop there. Transfer the reliable craftsmen you recruited there in batches in secret."

"On the surface, the county government continued to recruit bricklayers and carpenters in a high-profile manner to repair the walls and houses of the county government and attract the attention of the Tian family. On the other hand, they had Old Huang lead people to a secret workshop to build a batch of new brine mining tools and purification equipment for us based on the blueprints in his mind."

Cui Shen was secretly alarmed upon hearing this.

Mingxiu plank road, dark Chencang.

Young master, you're secretly building a production system completely independent of the old forces right under the Tian family's nose!

"You are truly brilliant, my lord!" Cui Shen exclaimed sincerely.

Yang Xuan looked at the gradually darkening sky and took a deep breath of the slightly salty and fishy air.

"Craftsmen are even rarer than knives," Yang Xuan said in a low voice. "Knives can kill, but craftsmen can make money. Once our new equipment is built, and once Pei Zhao's knives are sharpened, it will be our turn to be the dealer at the card table in Yaozhou."

......

As night fell, a dim, discreet light shone in the backyard of an abandoned pharmacy in the west of Yanjing County.

This pharmacy was acquired by Yanhe using funds from his working account, through a stranger who acted as his intermediary.

Nominally, they were preparing to reopen the pharmacy, but in reality, the backyard had been completely opened up and transformed into a spacious, dark workshop.

The surrounding courtyard walls were raised by three feet and covered with thorny brambles and broken tiles.

Afu, along with several reliable constables, divided into two shifts and patrolled outside the courtyard for twelve hours a day.

Inside the dark workshop, the furnaces glowed red-hot.

A dozen or so old craftsmen, secretly recruited by Cui Shen, were gathered around a huge sand table, listening to Old Huang's explanation.

Although Old Huang was blind in one eye and his back was somewhat hunched, once he stood in front of the furnace and blueprints, he seemed to come back to life, exuding the aura of a master.

"The brine in Qing'ao Well is deep and has a strong brine content. The bamboo tubes and hemp ropes that the farmers used to use were not only difficult to pull, but also corroded very quickly, and they had to be replaced every three to five months."

Old Huang held a red-hot iron rod in his hand and drew complex structures on the sand table.

"If we want to increase salt production, we need to change our methods! Instead of bamboo tubes, we'll use soft buckets made of a mixture of cowhide and sheet metal; instead of hemp ropes, we'll use iron chains forged from fine steel. And this winch must be equipped with gears, utilizing animal or water power to increase the speed of braising by more than three times!"

The craftsmen were dumbfounded.

These technologies and ideas seemed like pure fantasy to them.

But when Old Huang said it, it carried an undeniable credibility.

"Old Master Huang, can we really make these things?" a younger blacksmith couldn't help but ask.

"Why not?" Old Huang glared at him. "As long as I have the finest steel, tanned cowhide, and the support of the county magistrate, I can turn what's on these blueprints into reality!"

"Good! Old Man Huang is right!"

A clear shout of praise came from outside the courtyard.

Everyone turned to look and saw Yang Xuan, accompanied by Cui Shen and Pei Zhao, slowly walk into the secret workshop.

Yang Xuan was not wearing his official robes, but had changed into a light and practical outfit. In his hand, he was carrying two unopened jars of aged liquor.

"Greetings, Your Excellency!" The craftsmen put down their work and prepared to pay their respects.

"No need for formalities." Yang Xuan waved his hand, signaling everyone to continue. "Tonight there is no county magistrate, only Yang Xuan."

He walked up to Old Huang and placed a jar of wine heavily on the table covered with blueprints.

"Old Huang, you've worked hard these past few days. I brought the best liquor from Yaozhou City to toast you all!"

Yang Xuan's words stunned the craftsmen present.

In their previous understanding, officials were all high and mighty, abusing their power.

When have I ever seen a county magistrate personally bring wine to this smoky, sweat-stinking workshop to toast these lowest-level craftsmen?

Old Huang looked at Yang Xuan, a complex light flashing in his one remaining eye.

Although he was grateful to Yang Xuan for saving his grandson and admired Yang Xuan's courage, he always harbored a degree of wariness towards the government.

He was afraid that Yang Xuan was only being nice to them now to use them, and that once he had achieved his goal, he would discard them like rags, just like Tian Boyong had done.

"Sir, I only know how to forge iron, I don't know how to drink," Old Huang said curtly.

Yang Xuan wasn't angry; he seemed to have seen through Old Huang's thoughts.

He didn't force Old Huang, but instead broke the mud seal himself, tilted his head back, and gulped down a large mouthful of strong liquor.

The strong liquor burned his throat, leaving a stinging, pungent taste. Yang Xuan coughed a few times, a flush rising to his fair face.

"That was great!" Yang Xuan wiped the wine stains from the corner of his mouth and laughed loudly.

He turned around and looked at the craftsmen with their various expressions.

"I know what you're thinking." Yang Xuan's voice echoed in the workshop, carrying a rare sincerity.

"Are you thinking that I, Yang Xuan, am just like Tian Boyong, using you as tools to make money? Once I take back Qing'ao Well, once I've made enough money and gotten promoted, I'll kick you aside?"

The craftsmen looked at each other, none of them daring to speak, but their silence spoke volumes.

Yang Xuan took a deep breath.

"I don't want to spout any high-sounding nonsense. I'll just tell you a fact."

"I, Yang Xuan, was banished from Chang'an. In the eyes of those powerful figures, I am just a vermin that can be crushed at any time. If I cannot make great contributions in Yaozhou and transform Yanjing County into an impregnable fortress, I will be killed by them sooner or later."

"But to do all this, the knife in Pei Zhao's hand alone is not enough. I need money, I need a constant stream of money."

Yang Xuan pointed to the complex drawings on the sand table.

"These things are my livelihood! And you are the ones who can turn these blueprints into real money!"

"To others, you are just consumables, laborers, and objects that can be replaced at any time."

Yang Xuan suddenly took a step forward, his gaze sweeping over everyone like lightning.

"But to me, Yang Xuan, you are my brothers, my comrades-in-arms, and the one I rely on to survive in this chaotic world!"

"As long as you're willing to work for me, I, Yang Xuan, promise you: if I get a bite to eat, you'll never get a drop of soup! If anyone dares to lay a finger on you, I, Yang Xuan, will risk my official hat and my life to exterminate their entire family!"

Yang Xuan's words were devoid of any official jargon; they were entirely in the most straightforward and vulgar Jianghu (江湖, the world of martial arts and chivalry) slang.

But it was precisely this directness that struck the hearts of these grassroots craftsmen like a heavy hammer.

What they want is nothing more than respect, security, and a promise to be treated like human beings.