Crisis Strikes

The wave of fervor sparked by the official opening of Earthly Heaven Divine Son Basic Education Academy brought the settlement's leadership a very real, if sweet, headache after the initial excitement and chaos subsided.

The academy's stone building, once thought spacious enough, immediately proved far too small before the surging crowds seeking enrollment. The number of school-age children had already exceeded expectations, while the flames burning in the eyes of youths, young adults, and even a small number of middle-aged and elderly people hungry for knowledge made it impossible for Eric and the Faith Guard members handling registration and order to harden their hearts and turn them away.

"Divine Son, Pastor Beichen, there are... there are still so many people outside, and they're very agitated. They all say they want to come in and attend the lessons..." Eric wiped away his sweat as he reported to Zhou Beichen and Lorgar, his face full of distress. He did not dare make the decision himself, much less use force to drive away these brethren whose desire for knowledge was so devout.

Lorgar stood by the window, looking at the crowd outside the academy that refused to disperse. Their hopeful, anxious, even faintly pleading gazes were like invisible needles pricking at his heart, which had grown ever more capable of understanding and empathizing with mortal suffering. He recalled when he had first studied the "investment theory" and practical logic Zhou Beichen had taught him. Knowledge had opened a new window through which he could understand the world. Wasn't that same window what these people sought now?

"Father," Lorgar said as he turned around, his violet eyes filled with unquestionable compassion, "restraining the body may still be called a necessary evil. Restraining a soul that seeks knowledge is blasphemy against life itself. They long for light. We... cannot extinguish that tiny flame with our own hands."

"Why are you getting more and more mystical in the way you talk?" Zhou Beichen rubbed his brow. Of course, he knew they could not simply drive people away. If all the laborers came to school, who would farm, work, and keep the settlement running? But Lorgar's stance was so clear, and from the perspective of uniting hearts and cultivating loyalty, allowing more people to receive an education was undoubtedly a beneficial long-term "investment." The conflict between resources and time, however, stood sharply before them.

Just then, inspiration struck him, and he recalled the great undertaking from his previous life that had successfully eradicated widespread illiteracy and raised the quality of the populace despite extremely difficult conditions.

"I've got it!" Zhou Beichen slapped his thigh, startling Eric beside him.

"Lorgar, you're right. The right to seek knowledge should not be deprived. But daytime production cannot come to a halt either." Zhou Beichen wore his usual lively, calculating smile. "We can change our approach. During the day, those who should farm will farm, those who should work will work, and those who should attend school will attend school. Once night falls, when the workshops rest and there is no work left in the fields... why can't we open the academy's doors again?"

"At night?" Lorgar tilted his head slightly in confusion.

"That's right! At night!" Zhou Beichen grew more excited as he spoke. "We'll establish a night school! We'll use the evenings to educate those who have to work during the day! We can divide them into different classes and teach different content based on their foundations and needs! Literacy, arithmetic, basic technical principles... we can even break down the textbooks Lavoisier compiled into smaller, easier-to-digest portions!"

"Night school..." Lorgar savored the new term, and understanding slowly lit his eyes. Extending the spread of knowledge from daylight into the night and making full use of every gap in time was undoubtedly the embodiment of maximum efficiency. It also perfectly met the dual need of not delaying production while satisfying the thirst for knowledge. "This is a... wise decision, Father."

Once the plan was decided, it was implemented at once. Zhou Beichen personally arranged things to maximize the use of the academy's space and time. Daytime classes primarily served school-age children and some youths studying full-time, with a relatively systematic curriculum. After nightfall, however, "gas lamps" made with cloudy glass and acetylene were lit inside the academy. Though their light was dim and yellowish, it was enough to illuminate one eager face after another.

The night school's students came from far more varied backgrounds. There were farmers who had just put down their hoes, their hands still carrying the scent of earth; craftsmen who had finished a day of hammering, their bodies smelling of metal and sweat; women who had rushed over after finishing their household chores; and even Faith Guard members on rotating leave. They sat on rough wooden stools, struggling yet earnestly to identify the characters on the paper by the dim light, work out simple problems, and listen as instructors explained the chemical principles of clay or the mechanical foundations of waterwheels.

The sight was filled with a primitive, moving power. Knowledge was like a trickling stream, quietly nourishing every soul unwilling to remain ordinary in this thirsty land during the silent night.

However, the tree might wish for calm, but the wind would not cease. As the settlement flourished, especially with the emergence of the unprecedented model of night schools and large-scale universal education, all manner of rumors about the Southern Highlands inevitably spread farther afield like the windblown sand of Colchis.

In the mouths of wandering sand-beast merchants, scattered travelers, and displaced people fleeing their original settlements, the Southern Highlands were described as an almost mythical place—Earthly Heaven. Supplies there were abundant, there was endless food to eat—an exaggeration, of course—sturdy and warm houses, miraculous windmills that provided power, and, more importantly, people wore hope and smiles unseen anywhere else. Even... even the lowest of the low could learn to read and write!

Like seeds imbued with magic, these rumors took root in despairing hearts throughout every corner of Colchis, drawing more and more people to journey toward the Southern Highlands.

Yet at the same time, a completely opposite kind of malicious rumor began spreading quietly. Its source vaguely pointed toward regions controlled by the Covenant Church, especially Ralte.

The rumors claimed that the so-called "Earthly Heaven" was nothing more than an elaborately arranged scam, a nest of heresy. That heretic calling himself a pastor had mastered an evil "secret art." Anyone who stepped onto that land would have their mind corrupted by it, gradually forgetting the true teachings and doctrines of the Covenant, becoming muddleheaded, and eventually falling completely into depravity. They would become mindless slaves of that false god, the "Divine Son," laboring for him like walking corpses until they died.

"This is complete nonsense! Slander! Blatant defamation!" When Zhou Beichen heard these rumors from the Faith Guard members responsible for perimeter patrols and intelligence gathering, he was so angry he nearly laughed. "Secret art? If I really had some brainwashing secret art like that, I'd have united Colchis long ago. Why would I still be busting my ass here building things and running schools?"

Lorgar's reaction was calmer, but a cold chill flashed through the depths of his violet eyes. He might not have cared much if they slandered him, but twisting his father's painstaking efforts and the work of everyone in the settlement into something so vile had crossed the line of what he would protect.

"Father, repeating a lie a thousand times may not make it the truth, but it is enough to blind many eyes that do not know the truth and create more enemies for us," Lorgar said gravely.

Soon, more precise intelligence arrived. Scouts disguised as displaced people had infiltrated Ralte and returned with even more disturbing news: the Covenant Church's upper ranks in Ralte had noticed the Southern Highlands' abnormalities and the increasingly widespread rumors. At first, they may have dismissed them as ignorant superstition from a remote region, but as Earthly Heaven's reputation grew louder and even began attracting the secret admiration of some unsuccessful low-ranking priests and craftsmen within Ralte, the church felt a tangible threat.

It was said that a trial and "purification" operation against the Southern Highlands' "nest of heresy" had already been placed on the agenda. Ralte's guards were being mobilized, and some fanatical battle priests had also been summoned.

A storm was coming.

Inside the stone house serving as the settlement command post, the atmosphere was grave. Zhou Beichen looked at the crudely drawn map the scout had brought back, where Ralte's possible troop movements were marked. Lorgar stood quietly to one side, like a sword about to leave its sheath.

"Looks like that 'major client' in Ralte is determined to settle accounts with this 'non-performing asset' of ours once and for all." Zhou Beichen sneered, tapping Ralte's position on the map with his finger. "Sitting around and waiting for others to come knocking isn't my style. When it comes to risk management, the best method is to kill the risk in the cradle, or... directly acquire the source of the risk."

He raised his head and looked at Lorgar. A familiar light flickered in his eyes, one mixed with adventure, calculation, and unwavering resolve.

"Lorgar, our Earthly Heaven needs time to grow. We can't let these flies disturb us." Zhou Beichen's tone became decisive. "Looks like we'll have to make another trip to Ralte."

Lorgar slowly nodded, his massive body radiating an invisible pressure.

"As you wish, Father. For the peace of Heaven."