What was Wang Mingtang doing? He was preparing to round people up and stuff them away.
As for where he was rounding them up, it was Southern India.
He and Ji Zhengyan arrived before a village.
In the village, ragged men with darkened skin, looking as though they had not bathed in years, wandered about everywhere.
Only some women were working in the rice paddies.
"What evil deed are you planning to do again? Don't drag me into it." Ji Zhengyan looked disgusted.
"You're wrong. I'm taking them to heaven. Rather than waiting for death out here, they can live many good days in my place." Wang Mingtang pointed at the loitering men, speaking as though it were perfectly natural.
"They'll go with you?" Ji Zhengyan asked skeptically.
"Isn't that simple? As long as you do this and that, then this and that... it'll work."
Ji Zhengyan pondered it for a while before reluctantly agreeing.
He feared that if he refused, Wang Mingtang would turn his black hand toward his own people.
Outside the village, on a dirt road in the distance, a rumbling large truck soon arrived, immediately drawing the villagers' attention.
The truck was loaded with enormous fat pigs.
It was moving quite slowly, yet when it turned a corner, the pigs' frantic movements caused it to overturn, breaking open their cages as well.
At once, pigs began escaping through the broken cages.
The villagers watched from afar for a while. Then, at some unknown point, someone ran over and became the first to lay a black hand on the fleeing pigs.
Where there was one, there came a second. Soon, a whole crowd rushed over, and some even called their relatives.
The truck driver came out. Waving both hands, he tried to stop the villagers.