Chapter 139

Jiang Mingyu's words had barely finished when Murong Yun and Wu Xiao both stared at each other, utterly bewildered.

Their minds churned like storm-tossed seas, unable to comprehend Jiang Mingyu's sudden decision.

Murong Yun frowned deeply, his right hand idly twisting his beard, amber eyes glinting with confusion.

His usually calm and wise face now betrayed a rare hesitation.

Beside him, Wu Xiao was visibly agitated, his eyes—once tinged with youthful naivety—wide open, his breath quickening.

His fists clenched tightly, shaking as if struggling to contain his emotions.

They exchanged a glance, each seeing the same confusion and disbelief in the other's eyes.

"My lord, have we done something wrong? Why are you transferring us?" Wu Xiao blurted out, his voice trembling.

Murong Yun quickly added: "Brother Xingqiu, your sudden change of heart leaves us utterly baffled. Please clarify."

"It means the coal and iron mines—you each find a reliable person to take over."

"As for you two, from now on, you'll report to Tuxeslu in the City Garrison."

City Garrison—Murong Yun stared into Jiang Mingyu's eyes.

"What's the point of going to the City Garrison?"

Jiang Mingyu smiled faintly, letting out a long, weary sigh.

"You know the City Garrison has fifty thousand troops, yet there are barely any capable commanders."

"With no other choice, I've recalled you two to lead the troops for me there."

Jiang Mingyu nodded in satisfaction and continued:

"Brother Murong, your wisdom will surely bring order to the Scout Camp; Wu Xiao, your ambition and martial prowess will surely unleash the full strength of the Spear Camp."

Gazing into Jiang Mingyu's deep, clear, abyss-like eyes, Wu Xiao's rugged face betrayed a flicker of awe.

His eyes shimmered with longing and uncertainty—like a torch burning in darkness, wavering yet resolutely illuminating the path ahead.

Leading troops in the main camp was far more prestigious than overseeing mines. There, power was symbolized, glory enacted.

Unconsciously, Wu Xiao pictured himself commanding troops with authority—his long-held, unattainable dream.

If he performed well, perhaps when Jiang Mingyu was in a good mood, he might even earn the rank of Commandant—true ancestral glory.

Thinking of this, Wu Xiao's fists clenched tighter, his heartbeat quickened, his eyes blazing with excitement and resolve.

Jiang Mingyu watched him, a glint of approval flashing in his eyes, then spoke with a tone of warning—low, firm, like a winter north wind, cold and merciless.

"Still, Xiao, you're lacking far too much. In some ways, you're even worse than Dog Dan." His words struck straight to the core, tightening Wu Xiao's chest.

"I'm not mocking you. To become a competent commander, you must go to the City Garrison—listen, observe, learn." His tone was sharp as a blade.

"Study martial arts under Tuxeslu, strategy and tactics under Zhuge Yu—that's the bare minimum." His words carried deep expectation and trust.

Then he deliberately intensified his tone:

"If you perform well, your future is limitless. But if you slack off even slightly, I'll remove you both immediately—understood?" His words struck like thunder.

Under his warning, Wu Xiao and Murong Yun both nodded frantically, their eyes filled with determination.

"My lord, we swear to give our utmost." They replied in unison.

Yet the thought of grueling training made the thin Wu Xiao visibly reluctant—but under Jiang Mingyu's unwavering gaze, he bit his lower lip and silently nodded.

As everyone dispersed to their tasks, the guard stationed at the yamen's entrance galloped up on horseback.

"Master, the Inspector's office has sent someone—please return to the yamen immediately." His voice echoed through the crisp air, urgent.

It was the New Year—why would Wang Zhe send someone now? Jiang Mingyu paused, startled.

"Did they say what it was about?" He furrowed his brow, his gaze fixed ahead, his mind racing with possibilities.

Could it be Qi Wang and Tang Cheng causing trouble again? Jiang Mingyu's hand clenched involuntarily, his heart brimming with suspicion.

The guard hurried to reply:

"We're not sure—the messenger said it's about business." His voice carried both tension and deference.

Hearing it was business, Jiang Mingyu exhaled in relief.

"Understood. I'll return immediately." His voice carried a hint of ease and resolve.

Probably Wang Zhe, eager to make silver, couldn't wait for his porcelain. Old money-grubber. A faint smile curled his lips.

He nodded to Liu Yifei, still directing the workers, then mounted his horse and rode off in haste.

His figure cast a long shadow in the sunset's glow—like a decisive sword, slashing across the land.

Back at the county yamen, Jiang Mingyu noticed that Jing Shiyeh's smile seemed deeper than usual.

Jiang Mingyu felt puzzled but feigned indifference: "Master Jing, what brings you here today?"

Jing Shiyeh bowed respectfully: "My lord, several coal merchants came from the Inspector's office, requesting your assistance. They possess vast coal reserves but struggle with ore smelting—recently, they've been exhausted and desperate. Hearing you have high-quality coal mines, they beg you to personally oversee the smelting. Of course, compensation will match your labor."

Jiang Mingyu outwardly acted unimpressed, but internally weighed the pros and cons.

This deal was rare—securing it would greatly boost his influence here.

Yet Jing Shiyeh was cunning—his words hid ulterior motives; he must tread carefully.

After careful thought, he asked: "Master Jing, what are their compensation terms? Only then can we discuss details."

Jing Shiyeh understood Jiang Mingyu's intent and quickly replied: "My lord, their offer is generous—they only ask you to personally manage the entire smelting process; they handle all other tasks. In return, they'll give you an extra twenty percent of the output—roughly fifty thousand taels. A mutually beneficial deal—why not consider it?"

Jiang Mingyu lifted his teacup, sipped lightly, and frowned in thought.

His eyes gleamed sharply, like lightning; his expression was shrewd and capable. His fingers tapped the cup's rim, producing crisp, clear taps.

Jing Shiyeh sat opposite, respectfully waiting, occasionally stroking the wisps of white beard on his chin.

"A twenty percent premium is substantial. If I operate at full capacity, I can complete the order within three months." Jiang Mingyu calculated swiftly in his mind.

"Fine, it's settled." His gaze hardened, his hand swept decisively, radiating boldness.

"I'll begin preparations immediately—I guarantee timely completion!" His tone was as unyielding as stone.

"Please return to the Inspector and inform him—I accept this deal."

"I'll immediately order the construction of a workshop, ignite the furnaces, and send word soon."

As he spoke, he pulled out a thousand-tael silver note and smiled as he slipped it into Jing Shiyeh's hand.

"Master Jing, you've traveled far to Shangmu—this small amount is for tea."

Jing Shiyeh, now smiling broadly, departed. Jiang Mingyu, impatient, seized his brush.

Draft orders, post notices, recruit laborers.

In one seamless flow, before dusk fell, Jiang Mingyu's iron-smelting workshop was already under construction.

The foreman in charge of smelting was named Zhang Cheng—a robust man in his forties, muscles bulging.

Previously stationed at the City Garrison, overseeing weapons production, he had been assigned here by Tuxeslu upon Jiang Mingyu's order.

To rapidly enrich Shangmu, Jiang Mingyu not only conscripted over a hundred laborers but also recruited many women.

Their sole task: cook for the kiln and smelting workers.

Leading them was Liu Churan—the woman Jiang Mingyu had saved twice.

As the two workshops clanged to life, the entire city of Shangmu seemed to awaken fully.

On the third day of the New Year, as Jiang Mingyu pondered quietly, the kiln sent word: Liu Yifei requested his presence.

Galloping to the kiln, Jiang Mingyu's light footsteps echoed through the empty workshop.

He followed the narrow corridor to the rear, where Liu Yifei stood alone before a blueprint, sunlight bathing her pale profile in a hazy glow.

Seeing no one around, Jiang Mingyu crept behind her, gazing at her slender frame and snowy cheek—his heart stirred.

Though young, Liu Yifei was mature and diligent—her dedication made Jiang Mingyu want to tease her.

"Yifei, missed me?" Jiang Mingyu teased, grinning as he reached to pinch her rosy cheek.

"Shh!" With a swift motion, she dodged his hand. Blushing, she glared at him: "I'm working! How can you be so disrespectful?"

Jiang Mingyu laughed heartily, deliberately provoking her: "I'm just concerned—how can a girl work so hard without rest?"

"Enough already!" She shot him a glare, her cheeks flushed, adorable.

She straightened her clothes, shyly saying: "Stop fooling around—I called you for something serious."