Chapter 48: Intense Preparations

Bai Shuchao's shout was like a sudden awakening, instantly taking effect — only it made things hard for Xia Xianze, who had been cheerfully watching the excitement from the side. The moment the CEO heard this bald donkey spouting nonsense, he knew things were going south; his face changed, and he lowered his head to leave.

But it was already too late. The people, stoked by the loli, finally recognized the main contradiction of the moment. The masses swiftly abandoned the original culprit, and the siege unfolded once again. This time, E finally couldn't hold on. With no other choice, he had to make a statement: an all-hands emergency meeting would be held that very night to discuss everyone's personal problems.

In certain respects, the unrecorded, closed-door meeting that night had a far-reaching impact no less than those meetings destined to go down in history. The Transmigrators who attended would, in the years to come, spin the events of that night into N different versions, passed down by word of mouth among the many future Transmigrators, enduring without end.

These failures of the Old Time-Space, long accustomed to being presided over, summarized for, and represented, discovered for the first time that the simple principle of the minority obeying the majority was truly close to them, truly this simple.

Of course, one shouldn't overstate it. This meeting was at best a rudimentary form, and its most positive significance was this: it opened a small Window in certain people's ingrained ways of thinking.

Based on the experience of early Parliamentary Struggle, that night should have seen pokers and walking sticks flying together, fists and dentures dancing in unison. The reason nothing unspeakable occurred was not that the Transmigrators were of much higher quality than the people of the Old Time-Space, but entirely because they had overwhelming numbers and the Resistance was far too weak.

After one wave of charging through, everyone discovered that Xia Xianze really was just a paper tiger.

The meeting ultimately reached the following decisions:

One: Allocate a sum of public funds per head to buy maidservants. For those unwilling to buy, the money will be placed in a special Yahuan Hushang, earmarked for its specific purpose, with zero interest.

Two: Bai Shuchao does not enjoy this allocation of funds.

Three: New Transmigrators arriving in the future are eligible to enjoy this allocation of funds.

The next afternoon, when Cao Chuan crossed over from the Old World and heard General Manager Xia describe how these bastards had carved up the collective property, he couldn't help but laugh heartily, and with a hint of jest, indicated that his own share could be kept on the account for now — Cao Zong wasn't short of women at the moment; he Intended to wait until the future Transmigrators had conquered some city, then carefully select one or several pretty girls.

This was jest, because everyone knew perfectly well that by the time the Transmigrators actually had the strength to openly take a city of the Great Ming, there would be no shortage of people offering up their daughters, and no need to spend Silver.

The area that would be jokingly called "Er Nai Qu" by the Transmigrators for a period in the future was thus Planned out — it was actually just the two Courtyards in the northwest corner of Tangzhuang.

The series of interludes brought about by the Liu Family's second-generation heir thus came to an end, and the Transmigrators could finally push forward with the next step of the plan.

With the arrival of a new group of Transmigrators, and Zhou Tong once again drawing men from Pingfeng Stronghold to come down the mountain, the number of Transmigrators in Tangzhuang had now grown to thirty-nine. Including Zhou Tong, there were seventy mountain bandits in total — enough Manpower to carry out the Beggar Sect plan.

And the three directors of the Pingfeng Mountain Black Dao Unlimited Liability Company finally had the honor of attending a mission briefing with all Transmigrators present. For the three directors, this trip was a real eye-opener: so this was how immortals held meetings?

As several Transmigrators responsible for the preliminary preparations took the stage to Explain, and used a Series of data, figures, slides, and charts to clarify the original intent and break down the tasks, by the end of the meeting, the three Natives finally understood clearly just how enormous a plan their own side was participating in.

In Zhou Tong's view, a plan this meticulous, one that even mobilized top-tier ultimate techniques like "Miraculous Revival," should at the very least be worthy of capturing Hangzhou City. Yet everything the Transmigrators were doing was just to secretly transport a few Refugees in the future?

And what was even more terrifying — this massive Liuyun Zhuanyun Jihua was merely a preliminary task for the Transmigrators' future bid for supremacy?

The elite bandits, accustomed to charging headfirst into any trouble, could only heave a long sigh after thinking it all through: "The Emperor truly isn't so easy to be."

A few nights later, in Chengnan Guanxiang, Hu Zhengqi was humming a tune as he walked out of a Half-Door.

Hu Zhengqi was short and plump, with two wispy mouse whiskers, a pointed mouth, bulging cheeks, and two large yellow teeth protruding from his lips — the very picture of a rat.

Hu Zhengqi was a member of the Beggar Sect. Since his martial prowess was low, he could only rely on currying favor and bootlicking to please his Incense Master. Over the years, he had barely managed to scrape by with a mid-level post in the sect — responsible each month for collecting the "tribute money" from Chengnan Huazi Miao and two other groups of miscellaneous beggars.

Today his luck was good. He had spotted beggars stealing Silver and forcibly snatched half of it for himself. By evening, not a single coin remained; he had spent it all on his mistress. Right now, he felt utterly relaxed, his body light and legs weak, humming a tune as he headed home.

Unexpectedly, just as he reached a secluded spot, he suddenly felt a gust from a club sweep past. Hu Zhengqi instantly pitched forward.

When he regained consciousness, he found himself lying on the ground in an Earth House. Inside the room, several large men were either Sitting In or standing, forcefully surrounding and observing him.

The Oil Lamp on the table was lit. A square-faced man with thick brows and a short beard was sitting on a chair; beside him stood a short, dark man leaning on a Knife, radiating Killing Intent. He couldn't make out the other two clearly — the room was dim, full of flickering shadows. At this moment, Hu felt an urgent need to piss, and nearly wet himself on the spot.

Fortunately, having drifted in the Edo for many years, Hu Zhengqi still had some experience. He knew he couldn't afford to hesitate in a situation like this. He quickly sat up and cupped his hands, enduring the pain at the back of his head, and reported his boss's name: "This brother is under Incense Master Su of the Beggar Sect's Chengnan division. What business do you heroes have in bringing this brother here?"

The middle-aged man in the chair chuckled at this: "We invited you here, so of course there is business."

Seeing the other party's attitude was tolerable, Hu Zhengqi felt slightly relieved: "Well, this brother's rank in the sect is low. I wonder what matter you heroes might need this brother for?"

"We know your rank is low. Hu Zhengqi, isn't it? Trims his sails to the wind, slippery as an eel — even the dogs in Chengnan Guanxiang know that."

Hearing this, Hu Zhengqi's heart went thump. These people were not here with good intentions — they had investigated his background beforehand?

Before he could finish turning the thought over, a lump of Snowflake Silver rolled to his feet with a clatter. Hu Zhengqi was greatly alarmed. A Conditioned Reflex honed over many years made him cover that lump of Silver with lightning speed.

A voice sounded by his ear: "This lump of silver buys One Sentence from you when the time comes."

"I... I don't know when you heroes will want what words from this humble one?"

"When and what words — you will naturally understand when the moment arrives. That depends on your powers of comprehension."

If Hu Zhengqi had been just a tiny bit tougher, or had ever been a troll online, he would have surely burst out cursing by now: "Damn it, you tell me to speak when the time comes, but you won't even tell me when or what, and you want me to figure it out myself? Figure out your mother?"

Unfortunately, Hu Zhengqi was merely a third-rate thug of the Seventeenth Century, and the current situation was one of being meat on the chopping block. Having always relied on his shrewdness to get by, he could now only gape with his mouth open, blinking his eyes, not knowing what to say.