Chu Mu's brows furrowed tightly. If his earlier thoughts about an eruption following prolonged oppression were merely his own conjecture, the record in this Nanshan Chronicle now undoubtedly confirmed his speculation.
The countless corvée laborers in the mine, clad in tattered rags, their faces numb as if they were walking corpses, were indeed capable of erupting.
This was not something confined to the history of his previous life but a stark reality unfolding right beside him.
And… strictly speaking, he was one of the oppressors.
A moment later, Chu Mu suddenly shook his head with a faint smile.
As a patrol inspector, his interests were tied to the system, naturally hoping the corvée laborers would obediently toil and remain docile.
But if he weren't clad in the garb of a patrol inspector, if he were the one oppressed in such a manner, would he endure it? When the timing was unfavorable, he might have to bear it. But if a spark were to ignite, he would undoubtedly resist without hesitation, even if it meant death, dragging one or two others down with him.
Lost in these wandering thoughts, Chu Mu couldn't help but recall He Ergou, that loudmouth who never stopped jabbering day after day.
Yet, in all these days, Chu Mu had never heard him mention anything about a popular uprising, not even a whisper.
Nor had this topic ever surfaced in idle chats with other patrol inspectors…
Clearly, matters of civil unrest were a forbidden subject.
"Next month, I'll be on duty in town. There should be more news then…"
Chu Mu pursed his lips. According to the patrol station's regulations, duty rotations typically changed monthly. If he remembered correctly, next month, his squad would be assigned to town duty.
Life in the mine, where every role was rigidly fixed, was somewhat leisurely for Chu Mu, but it was also undeniably isolating, with little opportunity for interaction with the outside world.
However, town duty, with the authority of a patrol inspector, would allow him to engage with various aspects of society, enabling a deeper understanding of this era and the concern weighing on his mind… the will of the people…
"Hurry up!"
"Stop dawdling, or you'll miss the meal and be left with nothing but the northwest wind!"
Amid his thoughts, faint shouts reached his ears.
Following the sound, he looked toward the open courtyard gate, where a familiar scene came into view.
Corvée laborers. Patrol inspectors.
Clearly, another batch of laborers had been brought in.
In the past half-month, Chu Mu had lost count of how many times he'd witnessed this scene.
Qinghe County, with its fifteen towns and fifty-three villages, had been burdened with heavy corvée labor for years. Naturally, conscripting laborers wasn't as simple as issuing a single decree.
More often than not, it required fully armed county inspectors to go to villages and towns, forcibly conscripting people, frequently encountering violent resistance.
Such matters were common knowledge at the patrol station, something Chu Mu had long heard about.
Under these circumstances, conscripting corvée laborers was far from a swift process. It dragged on, bit by bit, with no clear end in sight.
Though he had yet to leave Nanshan Town, it wasn't hard to imagine the state of Qinghe County.
Chu Mu silently observed the procession passing by his gate, his eyes showing little emotion.
Only after the laborers' group had completely passed did he step forward to close the courtyard gate.
The clamor of the outside world was shut out entirely.
Chu Mu, holding his saber, stood in the courtyard.
His gaze lingered briefly on the translucent panel in his field of vision before shifting to the long saber in his hand.
From novice practice to glimpsing the threshold, his saber technique had undoubtedly advanced to a new level.
But in a certain sense, the difference wasn't significant.
After all, he had not a shred of actual combat experience.
Progress in saber technique lay in mastering the application of force. But whether a strike landed on the head or the neck made little difference.
And if he were struck in a vital spot, his life would be just as much at risk.
Without sufficient combat experience, he could hardly transform his saber technique's progress into true strength, no matter how much further his forms advanced.
"Combat experience…"
Chu Mu pursed his lips, his mind instantly conjuring the image of his squad leader.
But he quickly dismissed the thought. His relationship with the squad leader wasn't close enough for that.
Then, Chu Mu's gaze fell on the snow-covered ground. He crouched down, sifted through the snow for a moment, and picked up a few pebbles dusted with snowflakes.
With a sudden toss, the pebbles shot upward, only to plummet back down like meteors once their ascent was exhausted.
Chu Mu gripped the saber's hilt tightly, his eyes locked on the falling pebbles.
In an instant, with the crisp sound of impact, some pebbles shattered, while others hit the ground.
Of the six pebbles, he struck only two. In other words, if he were ambushed with hidden weapons or attacked by multiple blades at once, he would undoubtedly die.
Chu Mu pondered thoughtfully. In saber technique, he had no master.
No one taught him how to train or how to turn his saber skills into real combat ability. Everything depended on his own exploration.
"Perhaps I should focus on reaction speed…"
Chu Mu pursed his lips, instinctively recalling the training methods from martial arts films in his previous life. Though some were exaggerated, they weren't without merit.
Chu Mu had always believed that martial arts, like studying, required applying knowledge to practice.
Studying by rote memorization alone would lead to limited prospects, and martial arts were no different.
Saber forms required diligent practice, but how to utilize those hard-earned skills also demanded thought and training.
This was especially evident in the state of "Spiritual Radiance Enhancement."
Progress in saber technique stemmed from personal growth.
The heightened wisdom and thinking under "Spiritual Radiance Enhancement" merely allowed Chu Mu to better contemplate his martial arts doubts and more effectively digest his accumulated knowledge.
It didn't magically improve his saber skills or scholarship. Everything depended on his own foundation, whether in martial arts or study.
"A sandbag array, or perhaps a wooden dummy…"
Chu Mu mused to himself, scanning the small courtyard before quickly returning to his room.
He ground ink and took up a brush.
The control over force gained from martial practice was evident in his brushwork.
His strokes were steady and upright, like a mountain, unwavering.
Though he had never studied drawing, with such control over force, his brush moved freely. Soon, the outline of a wooden dummy from his memory took shape.
Then, as if struck by a thought, Chu Mu grabbed his saber, made a few gestures, and returned to the paper to continue sketching.
This seemingly comical routine repeated itself in the room.
After about half an hour, two completed sketches rested in Chu Mu's hands.
Holding the drawings, he touched the thick stack of paper currency in his pocket, then strode out of the room without pause, hurrying into the street and disappearing into the crowd…
…
*(Chapter End)*