What followed was hardly worth mentioning.
Deputy Envoy Yao led everyone to a deep pool and ravine behind Xuanming Village, ordered everyone to wash away the dust of the journey, and then had them change into matching sets of dark gray clothing.
These garments were similar to the ones An Jing had seen on the special young boys and girls earlier, though somewhat simpler.
Next came the roll call and registration.
"An Jing, Gufeng County, Xuanque Prefecture, Northern Hanhai Road, bone age eleven..."
"Xia Li, Hanhai Prefecture, Hanhai Road, bone age twelve..."
"Tang Yuanqing, Laifeng City, Liuguang Prefecture, Northern Hanhai Road, bone age nine..."
Standing at the front with lowered eyes, An Jing silently committed every name and record to memory, analyzing their backgrounds.
Most of the children and youths gathered by Xuanming Village were victims of the Frost Calamity north of Hanhai. The most distant among them was a girl named "Bai Qinghan" from Hannan Road, one of the three Hanhai roads.
She likely hadn't suffered from the Frost Calamity, but rather the Hanhai Demonic Calamity nearly a decade ago. She was a survivor born during that demonic upheaval who had struggled to survive until now.
Once the roster was finalized, the total number of people came to two hundred and forty-eight. The five individuals not listed on the roster were the five black-robed youths An Jing had spotted initially; they had already been taken away.
With the registry completed, dusk was approaching, which meant it was time for dinner.
The evening meal prepared by Xuanming Village was sparse: a simple serving of polished millet alongside a peculiar bean mash thick with medicinal aromas, a large bowl of each, plus three flatbreads brushed with oil and salt.
It was simple, but everyone ate with great relish. Once the steward announced that they could eat, not a single sound other than the chewing of food could be heard throughout the entire hall.
After all, having suffered through disasters for over a year, having gnawed on tree bark and roots all the way here, and having endured a bumpy journey to the mountain estate for more than ten days, how could anyone turn up their nose at such hearty, generous portions of food?
Not to mention, each person also received a small clay pot of meatball soup. Inside the brown earthenware jar, three white meatballs bobbed up and down in an oily broth, stimulating everyone's appetite intensely. An Jing scooped some up with a spoon and took a bite; the long-missed taste of meat filled his mouth, its springy texture savory and salty in a way that made it impossible to stop.
Even An Jing found himself with no spare thought for anything else while eating. It was only after he finished his meal and was guided by a chore boy to his living quarters that reality caught up with him.
—This Xuanming Village is quite adept at manipulating people's hearts.
Standing before his bamboo bed, An Jing looked back thoughtfully at the pavilions of Xuanming Village under the moonlight.
For the vast majority of these bought children, they had just been rescued from disaster-stricken lands, had their chronic illnesses cured, and had traveled far from their homelands through rough journeys, leaving their hearts fluttering with anxiety.
Then, they had arrived at a secluded estate isolated from the world—precisely the moment when they were most vulnerable, most sensitive, and most in need of a pillar of support.
Xuanming Village had bathed them, given them new clothes to wash away past fatigue, panic, and fear, and forged a shared psychology through identical attire.
Finally, through the roll call, they cultivated a sense of belonging, while the massive, filling meals and a touch of meat deepened everyone's gratitude toward them.
At this thought, An Jing could not help but sigh inwardly: "Good thing I possess Innate Wisdom from Past Lives and a suspicious nature—yet even so, my impression of Xuanming Village isn't bad at all; in fact, it's quite favorable."
"After all, they genuinely spend money to cure illnesses and buy people with grain. To date, none of us youths have been abused or mistreated, and the food, drink, and clothing are beyond reproach... I see."
At that moment, understanding dawned on An Jing.
As a child, he had actually felt rather lukewarm toward the many "death retainers" and "hidden agents" found in romance novels, never quite understanding where their loyalty came from or how they could remain so unswervingly devoted to their masters while lurking in the shadows.
But now, he understood—if Xuanming Village continued to nurture these youths in this manner, by the time they reached adulthood, every single one of them would become an absolute die-hard loyalist of the village.
Lurking in the shadows? What of it? Even if Xuanming Village truly turned out to be a demonic sect, it wouldn't diminish this loyalty in the slightest.
They would dismiss all vigilance, disgust, and wariness from the outside world as mere slander, genuinely convinced from the bottom of their hearts that Xuanming Village was the absolute embodiment of righteousness.
The worse Xuanming Village's notorious reputation became in the outside world, the more furious those who had received its grace—those who had fully accepted their identity as disciples of Xuanming Village—would grow. They would undergo self-purification and crystallization, transforming into the true foundation of Xuanming Village!
And that assumed Xuanming Village was a demonic sect; if it were an esteemed and righteous orthodox sect, it would be even easier to make people willing to die for it and sacrifice themselves for a greater cause!
"Hmm..."
Since he had eaten their food, An Jing couldn't very well complain. He recalled the taste of the meat in the clay pot earlier and clicked his tongue softly: "Fine, eat their meat, do their work."
Given his personality and his Innate Wisdom from Past Lives, An Jing knew there was little likelihood he would ever harbor such absolute loyalty toward anyone else in this lifetime.
Still, if the compensation and benefits were right...
He could be a loyal subject, too!
Xuanming Village separated the children by gender, assigning everyone an individual room.
It was a communal-style dwelling open from front to back, though they used bamboo walls to partition everyone into separate spaces.
The room was tiny, barely accommodating a bed and a tiny gap to stretch one's legs, yet this cramped environment was precisely what brought the disaster-stricken children a sense of safety—having spent so long using the earth as a mat and the sky as a blanket, people preferred to curl up in their own warm little spaces rather than face the wind and rain.
An Jing couldn't help thinking of capsule hotels, though he had no clear grasp of what a capsule hotel actually was; various images simply surfaced in his mind, allowing him to comprehend these unfamiliar concepts deeply.
This was the Innate Wisdom from Past Lives he had possessed since childhood. An Jing's innate wisdom, alongside his mature way of thinking, was his reliance for surviving numerous dangers and keeping himself safe.
Things had reached this point; he might as well sleep first.
Feeling extremely drowsy, An Jing knew that instead of analyzing Xuanming Village's methods for cultivating loyal disciples right now, he would do better to get more sleep and restore his energy.
He lay down on the bed, pulled the blanket over himself, and fell into a deep sleep.
For a period following that, Xuanming Village did nothing special, simply allowing the two hundred and some children who had survived the calamity to adjust their schedules, nurse their digestive systems and bodies back to health, and acclimate to the mountain climate and water.
The villagers claimed to be an ancient, secluded heritage; because their living environment was too harsh and required long-term survival deep within the mountains and forests, it was difficult to recruit normal disciples. To preserve their lineage, they would go to various places to buy orphans and refugees who could endure such a lifestyle.
This explanation was actually quite flimsy. If it had been spoken in a refugee camp or upon first arriving at the estate, anyone who believed it would have had to be out of their mind.
Yet, given that Xuanming Village had already taken care of everyone's food, lodging, and daily life, allowing the numerous youths to sleep securely with regular meals, meat, and new clothes, and on the premise that they were neither sold as slaves nor subjected to abuse and beatings—
Backed by these facts, whatever these children were told, they would believe.
From An Jing's perspective, Xuanming Village functioned like a massive, enclosed training camp.
Every morning, the estate gathered all the children, and the mounted riders acted as instructors to teach a simple set of physical-conditioning martial arts. In the afternoon, they taught the children to read and write, after which physicians checked their physical conditions.
These martial arts were far inferior to the martial arts passed down in An Jing's own family, but they were indeed effective for strengthening the body. An Jing had only ever learned the foundational chapters of his family's martial classic anyway, so learning a few other martial techniques did no harm.
The reading and writing lessons involved an ancient destiny classic called the *Scripture of the Sovereign Heaven*. It wasn't some brainwashing text; it primarily focused on revering the Sovereign Heaven's mandate, respecting heaven, and performing sacrificial rituals, and it was circulated widely throughout Dachen.
After practicing martial arts and finishing their evening study session, there was another meal. An Jing suspected it was some form of medicinal diet; he could feel his body recovering and growing healthy at a rapid pace under the nourishment of the medicinal meals and adequate sleep, and his emaciated figure was beginning to fill out.
This routine continued for half a month. The vigor and spirit of everyone had changed drastically from when they first entered the estate; aside from An Jing, all the other children had fully accepted their identities as "disciples of Xuanming Village."
Even someone as cautious as An Jing was beginning to think this place was genuinely quite nice.
—Eating and sleeping every day, reading and practicing martial arts—what a young master's life!
For most people, this life was far better than the one they had lived in their own homes before the Frost Calamity, and they began to view Xuanming Village entirely as their true "home."
Meanwhile, during this period, An Jing gradually grew familiar with the other youths.
First of all, An Jing had both practiced martial arts and learned to read. Furthermore, he possessed the best aptitude among this batch of people, so he was occasionally called forward by the lecturers and instructors to demonstrate movements or recite scriptures for the others, earning praise and rewards as a result.
Secondly, it was also because An Jing genuinely possessed an extraordinary appearance.
When they first arrived at the estate, everyone was basically skin and bones with emaciated figures, making it impossible to discern their looks or bearing.
Yet even then, An Jing's presence had been enough to suppress the doubts of the crowd, with only a small minority harboring dissatisfaction.
As everyone's bodies gradually grew healthier, An Jing recovered his original appearance.
Blessed by nature with an exquisite grace and striking elegance, this was his true form. Yet after a year of wandering, having taken the lives of numerous villains with his own hands, even when An Jing smiled, he carried an undeniable sense of danger—much like a clouded leopard in the mountain forests, graceful and bloodthirsty.
Even Master Yao repeatedly sighed that with An Jing's appearance standing right there, he didn't need to say a word for anyone to hold him in high regard.
Regarding the arrangements made by Xuanming Village, An Jing appeared utterly grateful on the surface while calmly analyzing them in his heart.
Naturally, he knew this was a low-cost, high-return method of winning people over—allowing him, the best-performing and best-looking individual, to instinctively position himself as a "member of Xuanming Village" and the "senior martial brother," granting him a powerful sense of belonging while also attracting the other children and shaping a collective spirit.
At the same time, it could provoke the competitive drive and desire to win among the other "dissatisfied" children.
An Jing did not take pride in this identity himself, but other youths still gathered around him on account of it.
Whether it was because of the identity of "senior martial brother" or because of his looks... An Jing wasn't entirely sure himself.
All in all, the children in his dormitory now all acted with him at the center. Unwittingly, he had truly become a figure akin to an older brother; whenever it was time to assemble for the mess hall or go to the Martial Arts Arena for drills, he was the one leading and organizing them.
Guiding his fellow junior martial brothers and sisters in their studies just like a true senior martial brother—this kind of life was truly easy to indulge in and grow complacent about.
However, all of this was merely the prelude.
Xuanming Village was, after all, a martial sect; it was impossible for them to let people eat and drink for free and live the life of young masters.
Soon enough, the intensely arduous formal training arrived.