Where Immortals Once Walked

A second too late, and that child would have been a streak of blood and guts on the cobblestones.

The boy snatched up his rattle drum, coughing violently from the dust kicked up by the horse’s hooves. His father finally broke through the crowd, swept him up into his arms, and ran off without so much as a backward glance.

Onlookers along the street began shouting and scolding, but the rider in white acted as if he did not hear a thing. Instead, he raised his head and looked directly at Uncle Hao.

Uncle Hao’s face was expressionless.

Liu Baobao, standing beside He Lingchuan, cleared his throat loudly and said, “Who are you people? Don’t you know that riding at full gallop through the market warrants you twenty lashes?”

“Oh, is that so? And who exactly will be administering those lashes?” the white-robed youth replied with a laugh, his voice brimming with scorn. “You?”

His gaze was so sharp that Liu Baobao felt as though his skin were being pricked by countless needles. Liu Baobao shrank back slightly as he replied warily, “Heishui City has strict laws. Do you dare gallop a few more steps and see what happens?”

At that, the youth lost all interest in him and turned his eyes to He Lingchuan instead, as if recognizing who truly held authority here.

He Lingchuan met his gaze with a pleasant smile. The youth studied him carefully, then finally spurred his mount onward.

The gray-robed rider behind him never once lifted his head.

After this brief scuffle, their pace slowed noticeably. The cityfolk—young and old alike—watched the two riders disappear around the corner.

The road they were on led out of the city, toward the northeast.

At this moment, Uncle Hao spoke up, “Both of them are cultivators, and I was unable to see through that rider in gray. As for the white-robed youth, I’d wager he comes from a military family.”

He Lingchuan raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.

Uncle Hao was no ordinary bodyguard. He had once taken part in a covert operation in the capital, slaughtering over a dozen rich and influential households in a single night. Later, a Daoist provided him with some guidance, teaching him spells, as well as how to temper and contain his hostility and killing intent. Now, as someone who had cultivated to a certain extent, he served as one of the He Family’s high-ranking retainers. If even he saw the gray-robed man was formidable, then there was no reason to doubt that he truly was so.

Those two were clearly no ordinary merchants, so what were they doing traveling here at the border?

At that moment, a new group entered the street. It was a Heishui City patrol unit. The commotion had drawn them in, and they began questioning bystanders. “What happened here?”

“Two riders charged through the street! They nearly trampled a child!” the crowd replied in chaotic chorus, though the message was clear.

Only two riders? That means it wasn’t the He Family’s eldest young master. Thank goodness. The patrolmen’s fury swelled. But just then, they looked up and saw He Lingchuan leaning out the window, seemingly having watched everything unfold.

They immediately straightened up and offered a salute, and their tense expressions relaxed into polite smiles. “Young Lord He! A good day to you!”

“Good? Oh, very good indeed,” He Lingchuan replied with a cheerful squint. “Are you going to be chasing those two riders?”

“Yes!” The captain of the patrol unit responded with righteous indignation. It has long since been established that galloping through the city is prohibited, yet those two had galloped without a care! That’s open defiance of the law! “They must be punished!”

He Lingchuan pointed them in the right direction. “They went toward the northeast gate.”

The captain thanked him, then took his unit and headed off in pursuit.

Once they were gone, Uncle Hao commented, “Those men won’t be able to stop them.”

“I know. Just testing the waters,” He Lingchuan said with a shrug. “This is Heishui City. Are they really going to stir up trouble in broad daylight?”

As expected, the patrol unit returned about a quarter-hour later empty-handed.

He Lingchuan was not surprised, though he still wanted some answers, so he asked, “Where are the two riders?”

The patrol captain had clearly not expected him to still be there. He looked embarrassed and coughed awkwardly before replying, “Those two are under the Provincial Governor of Xun Province and the Grand General of the Northern Campaign, Nian Zanli. They’re here in Heishui City on official business and presented a branded official document.”

He Lingchuan let out a long, drawn-out “Ohhhh.”

He understood at once. The Grand General of the Northern Campaign, Nian Zanli, was also the Provincial Governor of Xun Province, meaning he held both civil and military authority. His power far exceeded that of the Provincial Governor of Jin Province.

Commanderies were subordinate to provinces. Even as the Grand Administrator of Qiansong Commandery, if He Chunhua ever met this Grand General of the Northern Expedition in person, he would have to bow and address himself humbly as “this lowly official.”

The patrolmen quickly departed. Liu Baobao looked uneasy. “They probably won’t remember me, right?”

“Do you really think that something that small’s worth holding a grudge over?” He Lingchuan replied, his tone half-hearted at best. But inwardly, he was already wondering: Why did the Provincial Governor of Xun Province send men to Heishui City?

At that very moment, two thunderclaps rolled across the sky, booming loud enough to make ears ring. A couple of stray dogs yelped in terror and scattered with their tails between their legs.

However, the people of Heishui City barely reacted. They were used to it and carried on as usual.

He Lingchuan looked west. On the horizon, dark clouds were gathering fast. The wind had begun to howl, and the sky roiled with menace.

A storm was coming.

* * *

“A storm’s coming,” the white-robed youth remarked, glancing at the sky. He then turned to the man in gray and asked, “What do you think? Will this place do?”

The two of them were standing on Mount Hulu.

The mountain had seven peaks, three of them bare, their rocky soil laid open to the elements, looking just like the heads of bald men.

It was not much to look at, but Mount Hulu was home to an abundance of wildlife—mice, rabbits, foxes, deer, and, if you were lucky, you could even find some wild boars and gray wolves.

They stood now on a narrow game trail, having already investigated several caves in the vicinity.

“The soil and water may not be rich, but there’s no shortage of living creatures. In terms of quantity, it would suffice,” said the gray-robed man. As he spoke, a violet-gold pestle appeared in his hand. Its head was carved with a wide-mouthed, bulging-eyed beast. Its feet stood atop four hanging rings, and the bottom tapered into a sharp spike that glinted coldly.

With a flick of his wrist, the pestle, which was originally less than half a meter long, elongated into a two-meter violet-gold staff.

The man drove the staff about half a meter deep into the earth until it stood on its own. Then, turning to the white-robed youth, he requested an azure copper coin, which he inserted into the carved beast’s gaping mouth.

The mouth snapped shut of its own accord, locking the coin in place. Then, a red light began to pulse from the beast’s eyes.

The man began to shake the top of the staff.

At once, the rings around the beast’s feet clanged and jingled. At first, the sound was chaotic, but as one listened closely, a pattern emerged—a rhythm that repeated again and again.

And with each cycle, the sound became clearer, louder, and... traveled farther.

The forest had been alive with the hum of insects and the cries of birds. Now, it fell eerily silent. Only the ringing of the staff echoed through the mountains, lingering and insistent.

The white-robed youth took a deep breath.

Even with his focus and training, the longer he listened, the more the sound made his head spin. His heart began to race, and his ears buzzed. He had to break his concentration, turning his gaze to a distant peak to clear his mind.

With his attention unfocused, the sound became just tolerable.

After about the time it would take to drink a cup of tea, a rustling sound came from behind them, followed by an irritated voice, sharp and exasperated, “Enough! Stop that! No more of that racket!”

The violet-gold staff ceased its ringing at once. The two men turned to look. A towering Euphrates poplar[1] tree shook its branches, rustling with agitation. The voice seemed to emanate from its very leaves.

The poplar tree was gnarled and weathered, its twisted limbs brimming with ancient strength. It was the largest tree in the area, and it had clearly weathered centuries of wind and frost. At a glance, it looked to be at least three or four hundred years old.

The white-robed youth spoke first, “Are you the local guardian spirit?”

“I am the guardian spirit of Mount Huyang[2], I was appointed two centuries ago. Now, this place is called Mount Hulu.” The poplar tree’s voice was strange. It sounded like countless leaves rustling together in the wind, producing a quivering murmur. It began rough and indistinct but grew clearer and smoother as it spoke, as though it was rediscovering the ability to speak after years of silence. “I’ve slumbered for so long, even the local officials couldn’t wake me. Who are you two?”

It had only now sensed the coin clutched in the beast’s mouth atop the violet-gold staff and let out a surprised exclamation, “Huh? That’s a mandate token from the new dynasty, isn’t it? Was it called... Yuan?”

“Yes, a Yuan Coin,” the gray-robed man corrected, giving the beast head a tap. The azure copper coin dropped neatly into his palm. A closer look would reveal that the coin was larger than most, with its hole punched at the top rather than the center, making it easier to tie onto a string.

1. This is also known as a desert poplar. ☜

2. In the raws, this is 胡杨山, and 胡杨 (Huyang) translates to Euphrates poplar or desert poplar, so the mountain is basically named after the poplar. ☜