These words drew Lu Ming's attention to the middle-aged woman. She did retain some charm, her figure slightly out of shape, but not the repulsively obese.
"From now on, you will serve me as my personal maids. Now, get ready, we're leaving."
Gan Mei wanted to say something, but her mother behind her grabbed her hand and shook her head, indicating she shouldn't speak.
Gan Mei then gave up. Sometimes, a young girl's thoughts are indeed rather naive, and a mother needs to remind her in time.
Zhen Yao returned to his residence in Yangcheng, and immediately began to eagerly seek out women, even refusing permission when the person in charge came to see him. With lust raging, how could they satisfy themselves without a proper time to play around? And with ample foreplay, the actual act only lasted a few minutes.
After Zhen Yao woke up, Zhen Zhen came in to report.
"What?! They took everything?! How is that possible! They couldn't have taken it all!"
Zhen Yao was instantly wide awake.
He thought Lu Ming, being concerned about his image, would only take some supplies, and probably just heavy loads. He hadn't expected them to take everything; it was simply outrageous.
"Young Master, they did take everything, but they left behind some boxes and a carriage." Zhen Zhen didn't care whether they could take it or not; if they couldn't, they'd take it back. If they could, they'd take it; he hadn't intended to refuse them.
This made Zhen Yao very uncomfortable. He had planned to give only half; otherwise, he wouldn't have been so generous. He was certain the other party couldn't take it all.
Then he would store it there, and when they came back for it, he could say he would give it to them later, and that the original food and weapons were no longer usable and needed to be replaced quickly.
Either the weapons would be rusty or the food moldy, or he would have to wait a while.
The fighting troops wouldn't stay long; they would definitely leave eventually, and then there would be no way to prove anything.
Back in Luoyang, he wouldn't have much contact with them—a perfect way to avoid them!
Zhen Yao was stunned. Losing so many supplies was not good news for him.
His influence within the family would be significantly diminished, which was bad news. He had to find a way to regain it!
"How long have they been gone? Where are they?"
"They've already crossed the Six Rivers and are heading towards Anze City. They've been walking for about two hours."
Zhen Zhen felt a mixture of mockery and disdain, but outwardly remained calm and composed.
He had Zhen Yao's handwritten letter; the loss of supplies had nothing to do with him.
The eldest son of the main family had sent someone to demand supplies; could he refuse?
In short, he wouldn't be implicated in any trouble. He couldn't be shifted onto the blame, and he wasn't someone to be trifled with.
If pushed too far, he would switch sides; this was forcing him to choose a side.
After a period of panic, Zhen Yao finally calmed down. He knew he couldn't panic now. Creating more loopholes and incriminating evidence would only put the succession in his younger brother's hands.
"Since they've taken it, let them go. Don't worry about it. Just do what needs to be done."
"Yes, Young Master." Zhen Zhen took his leave and closed the door.
Inside the room, Zhen Yao slammed his hand on the table, his mind racing as he considered how to turn the situation around.
He had misappropriated family assets. The Zhen family had an elders' council, composed of senior members with considerable experience, who could use their expertise to guide the patriarch.
And these elders weren't all good people; they weren't of one mind. They also had their own needs and desired power.
"Damn Lu Ming, that peasant! What are we going to do now?"
Meanwhile, Lu Ming had led his troops back to Meikuang Town and deposited the supplies with the quartermaster.
He himself placed Madam Zou and Gan Mei in a newly built mud-brick house. These mud-brick houses were rather rudimentary, but since they were unfurnished, there was no methanol, making them perfectly habitable.
Making them was easy; he only needed local materials—water and mud—and everything else was no problem.
After settling the women and family, he went to the kiln to process the items.
The copper ore had now been smelted into copper ingots, ready for further processing—weapons, armor, and ornaments could all be made.
Instead of doing that, he chose to place clay models into the molds and fire them.
There were many small earthenware pots, as well as large, waist-high glazed ceramics; these were all airtight containers used to hold liquids.
Besides these, there were also many pottery jars and cooking pots.
The surface minerals had been mostly mined; the rest required deeper exploration.
Here, he needed to find a passage, digging it out little by little, and ensuring the mine's safety before continuing.
Without electric lights, digging by candlelight alone was extremely difficult, thus reducing his digging ability and drastically increasing the difficulty.
Lu Ming simply stopped mining and instead had the captured soldiers counted. He personally treated them, calming their anxieties, and ordered the kitchen to prepare rations for these mining prisoners.
He was winning hearts and minds, building connections.
Compared to other warlords, he didn't have as many talented people, so he had to start from the bottom, devising ideas from the ground up.
That evening, Lu Ming summoned all the officers, even the lowest-ranking corporals.
He simply taught them to recognize some basic characters, to know their meanings, but didn't require them to learn to write them.
Three characters a day, repeatedly practiced, then passed on to the other soldiers. The atmosphere here felt completely out of place, utterly different from the other units.
Who teaches soldiers to read and write, and yet provides such excellent medical care? Many wounded soldiers with fractures and lacerations were saved.
Even several with bleeding arteries in their necks were pulled back to life by Lu Ming.
There was no oppression here, but if oppression were to be expressed:
The first thing they would do is single out the soldier, have everyone oppress him, stomp on him, and then expel him from the camp, never to be rehired.
Or they would have to be sent as a suicide squad, and only after three successful attempts could they return.
The treatment here speaks for itself; it's better than other vassal corps, and offers more prospects. At least they can read, which is a significant advantage in terms of future prospects.
Of course, passing the imperial examinations to become a scholar is out of the question, as the court doesn't recognize it. However, it's still very helpful for promotion to higher positions.