Early morning.
About ten kilometers due north of Wucha Town lay a place called Black Fall Mountain.
Within the miners' camp.
As one of the people in charge here.
Ling Wuyuan, now over 1.6 meters tall, stood on the third floor of the watchtower in the camp, silently observing the workers below as they gradually entered the mine shafts to begin their excavation work.
Most of them were adult men over thirty, burdened with supporting their families.
There were few young people in their teens or twenties.
Young people generally had rather lofty ambitions.
Naturally, they did not want to spend all day digging in mine shafts.
Even if the pay here was fairly high.
Compared with doing this kind of purely backbreaking labor.
They would rather take up technical work that was easier and offered better prospects.
Or simply join some faction and cultivate martial arts.
However.
Whether learning technical skills or joining various gangs, both were extremely difficult things for ordinary people.
Entering a factory to tighten screws and do manual labor was the fate of most people...
Therefore.
Ever since he had successfully graduated from the gang's training grounds and been assigned here to manage the miners, Ling Wuyuan had long grown used to the disappointed, resigned expressions on those people's faces.
He had also grown used to seeing proud newcomers forced into the mine shafts to dig simply so they could afford food.
Nine times out of ten, life did not go as one wished.
There was no greater helplessness or sorrow in this world than that.
Not long afterward.
Someone with a somewhat overly familiar personality slowly approached from not far away.
He was a middle-aged man in his forties.
As a formal member of the White Crow Gang.
Like Ling Wuyuan.
He was also