Where Immortals Once Walked

“Just trust in the state preceptor,” He Lingchuan said, jerking his chin toward Sun Fuping. “A man of his stature is personally risking his life out here. The least we can do is have a little faith in him, no?”

Sun Fupoing and Nian Songyu were far ahead, walking at the very front of the military unit, separated from He Lingchuan by more than ten full rows of soldiers.

The newly conscripted bandits were not even worth a glance to them.

Situ Han eyed their backs and asked under his breath, “If I speak, will they hear me?”

“Relax. Definitely not,” He Lingchuan replied. He himself had forgotten how many unflattering things he had muttered about those two already.

Only then did Situ Han lower his voice and say, “Those two are really full of themselves. Once we encounter actual danger in the desert, I doubt they’ll care much about whether we live or die. Young Lord He, for the sake of all those New Year’s greetings, please look out for us brothers. We came out here to make a living, but back in Mount Mang, we’ve got over a hundred wives, children, and elders depending on us. If we die out here, they won’t even have porridge to eat.”

Even though what he was referring to when he spoke of “making a living” was clearly nothing but bandity, his face was open and earnest with worry plainly written on it.

“I understand,” He Lingchuan reassured him. “I’ll keep an eye out. I won’t let him send you all to die for nothing.”

After he moved on, He Chunhua asked his son, “What did he mean by ‘for the sake of all those New Year’s greetings’?”

“He comes to pay his respects every New Year, doesn’t he?” More importantly, every year, Situ Han specifically brings a lavish gift for the eldest young master of the He Family. Last year, he got the former He Lingchuan a necklace of luminous pearls, and each pearl was smooth and radiant, as well as nearly identical in size.

Yes, it was the same necklace that the current He Lingchuan had gifted to Uncle Hao.

As for the gift from the year before? Hm, I can’t quite remember.

Naturally, there was no need to trouble his father with such trivial details.

He Chunhua looked him over and shook his head. This rascal may be reckless, but when it comes to accepting gifts, he never hesitates.

* * *

Heishui City, He Mansion

Though there were only two people left in the mansion, Madame Ying still instructed the kitchen to prepare a proper meal. Seven dishes were set on the table, a display of food more lavish than usual.

However, she had no appetite. After sipping half a bowl of millet porridge and nibbling two bites of the steamed bun He Yue handed her, she set her chopsticks down and did not eat another bite.

“Yue’er, where do you think your father is now?” Ever since He Chunhua had left, it was as if he had taken her soul with him. Madame Ying had been unable to sleep, and not even her carefully applied makeup could mask the fatigue on her face.

“He’s probably passed several relay stations by now,” He Yue said to comfort her. “Zeng Feixiong knows the desert well, and State Preceptor Sun is with him. Father and Big Brother are sure to return before the season of mad sand hits.”

Madame Ying sighed. “Everyone says your brother is blessed by fortune. This time, we’ll really need that luck.”

He Yue found her tone odd. His mother did not seem to blame his father at all for bringing his older brother along.

She then asked about the affairs of Qiansong Commandery, and He Yue assured her that everything was under control.

At last, she asked, “Is there still no word from the east?”

“None. Floods have blocked the roads, and the fighting there is fierce. The rebels behead any spies they catch, so even messengers don’t dare pass through.”

In truth, he did not need his father’s repeated instructions. He had already been keeping a close watch on any intel about the ongoing events in the east.

Unfortunately, there had been no news at all.

* * *

The following day, all around them—left, right, above, below, ahead, or behind—there was nothing but endless yellow sand. There was not a single sign of life that could be seen.

This remote little stretch of the Hongya Route led toward the ruins of Panlong City. This was a place that no merchant caravan would ever willingly approach.

Every step forward was taken with care, as if the travelers knew that this was the last stretch of relatively easy road they would see for a long time.

“The road ends here,” came a call from the front of the unit.

The He father and son looked eastward and saw the enormous base of a collapsed mountain peak, sloping upward like the blade of a dagger stabbing into the sky.

As for where the upper half of this mountain had gone, well, it had long since crumbled in a thunderous collapse nearly a hundred years ago, falling directly onto the path where the Hongya Route once lay.

The mountain’s shattered remains had turned the road into a dead end.

Zeng Feixiong murmured, “Perhaps it’s Heaven’s will... to keep the city’s heroic spirits undisturbed by the living.”

“Is there really a need to be so sentimental?” Nian Songyu scoffed. “Everyone dismount. We’ll need to lighten our loads.”

There was no road ahead, and horses would be of no use in what was to come. Each person packed five days’ worth of dry rations and water, and turned their mounts over to the mess cooks that had been brought along.

Situ Han stared out at the boundless desert ahead.

The sweeping sand dunes were pristine and untouched, not a single footprint marred their surface.

“Where do we even go from here? Once we leave the Hongya Route, we’ll be eaten alive!”

“Cut the bullshit. Aren’t you sand bandits? Shouldn’t you know best?” Nian Songyu shot back, shutting him up on the spot.

Situ Han gave a sheepish laugh. As someone who had spent most of his life surviving in the Panlong Desert, he was all too familiar with the taboos and had picked up a few tricks of his own.

Nian Songyu gestured at the desert ahead. “Go on then. If there’s no Hongya Route left, how do we proceed? You must have some experience.”

“First of all, all you officials need to put your mandate tokens away. Don’t show them, and definitely don’t activate them!” This group is damn packed with officials.

“Oh?” Nian Songyu raised a brow. “Why?”

“The desert’s heroic spirits were once soldiers who died defending their homeland. If we go waltzing in with mandate tokens from a foreign state, it’s basically waving a banner and asking to be attacked. They’re stubborn to the bone. Avoid them if you can, and never provoke them!”

That makes sense. Sun Fuping gave instructions to the officials around him, “Stow your Yuan coins. Keep them hidden.”

Then, Situ Han added, “Are we really going all the way to Panlong City? It’s still far, and there’s no way we can make it on foot. That’s seriously beyond me.”

Sand bandits only braved the deep desert when fleeing pursuit or settling scores. No one sane took a casual stroll through a land of death. You would have to be suicidal to do it without a good reason.

“Which is why,” said Sun Fuping, pulling three objects from within his robes, “we’ll be switching to a different form of transport.”

He had brought out three miniature carved boats, each no longer than an inch. They appeared to be crafted from what looked like half a walnut shell. The craftsmanship was exquisite. You could make out the grain of the wood along the boat’s edge, the folds in the boatman’s robes, even the delicate strands of hair fluttering in the wind.

At first glance, they were unmistakably masterpieces.

“These are treasures I borrowed from a friend. I’ll need to return them later. Alright, everyone, clear the way!” Sun Fuping retrieved three translucent green orbs and placed one into the raised right hand of each carved boatman, then gently tossed the walnut boats onto the sand.

“Profound crystals,” Nian Songyu breathed.

The orbs, about the size of quail eggs, appeared to be large enough to crush the tiny boats. However, as soon as they touched the boatmen’s hands, they vanished. The boats immediately began to tremble, as if something inside was about to break free.

No one here was stupid. They had already backed away in advance.

Sure enough, the walnut boats began to swell at astonishing speed, their volume multiplying in seconds. In just two breaths’ time, the palm-sized carvings expanded into full-sized wooden vessels over fifteen meters long and three meters tall.

They sat quietly atop the yellow sands. They looked exactly as they originally did, only now scaled up to a size where they could properly carry people. The carved boatmen had become full-sized men as well. One of them walked to the bow, lowered the gangplank, and stood ready to receive passengers.