Where Immortals Once Walked

Aside from Sun Fuping and Situ Han, everyone else had brought a veritable feast for themselves. Nian Songyu had brought some unremarkable-looking dried salted meat, which was a dark red color and appeared quite tough. Still, once it was roasted over the fire, it gave off an incredibly appetizing aroma. Clearly, it had been seasoned with a generous blend of spices. Sliced into thin strips and paired with soft, white flatbread, it lent the expedition an almost picnic-like air.

He Chunhua, meanwhile, had prepared himself a bowl of youmiancha[1]. As soon as it met boiling water, the aroma of roasted sesame and peanuts wafted further than even the smell of meat. He had even added some cashew nuts and walnut bits, elevating the whole thing to a new level of indulgence.

He Lingchuan had always believed that this kind of drink was best enjoyed with loud, slurping gulps, but his father sipped quietly and elegantly, not making a sound.

Then, hearing the state preceptor’s latest words, He Chunhua’s expression changed subtly, “The wrong time? Wait, he couldn’t possibly be referring to the season of mad sand, right?”

“All past treasure-seeking parties have avoided the season of mad sand, and all of them have come up empty-handed. Zhu Gen tried every known method and divine art, yet still couldn’t detect any sign of the Generous Pot. Hence, he concluded that the treasure was likely hidden by Zhong Shengguang himself, or by the god he served. And to find it, certain prerequisites must be met,” Sun Fuping explained slowly. “Otherwise, even if someone scours every inch of the Panlong Ruins, they still won’t find a thing.”

At that moment, He Lingchuan had greasy lips and a mouth full of food, but it did not stop him from speaking, “Zhong Shengguang hated the coalition. Of course, he wouldn’t want them getting their hands on the Generous Pot. But what if it was reclaimed by the god he worshipped? What if it was taken back altogether and isn’t even in this world anymore? And isn’t it possible that all the weirdness taking place in the Panlong Desert now is just caused by the resentful souls, or rather, heroic spirits? After all, the Three Corpses Worms are born in the human body. They’re not exclusive to the Generous Pot.”

His philosophy was that no matter how bitter life got, one must never mistreat one’s mouth. He had already torn into a juicy soy-braised goose leg and was now crunching happily on two pieces of crispy pan-fried noodle cake.

Heishui City’s local noodles were famously chewy when cooked. After being dried in the desert wind, they had a texture reminiscent of his favorite instant noodles from his previous life. Locals would boil them soft, coat them in flour, pan-fry them into cakes, and sprinkle them with chili and spices. The result was a high-quality, dry ration, perfect for both home and travel.

Of course, He Lingchuan had demanded extra meat and eggs in his.

He trained in martial arts and had a far greater appetite than most. He needed a full helping of grains and meat at every meal.

He was, frankly, a glutton. And he ate like one, too. Nian Songyu shot him a look of disdain. “Three Corpses Worms that can even possess spellcasters must be a product of the Generous Pot.”

From birth, Three Corpses Worms had existed inside the human body, growing stronger over time. They muddled thoughts, stoked greed, and fed wicked desires. This was why they were also called the “Three Corpses Gods,” a term that implied that they were far more than mere worms. Anyone hoping to cultivate the Dao or achieve enlightenment had to pass the trial of wielding the sword of wisdom to slay the three corpses, thus purifying the heart and mind.

Of course, this meant slaying the Three Corpses Worms within one’s own body.

However, the Three Corpses Worms lurking in the Panlong Desert could even afflict spellcasters whose hearts and minds had already been purified, could roam outdoors for extended periods, and feared nothing except sunlight.

Clearly, these advanced variants of the Three Corpses Worms had spilled out of the Generous Pot.

He Lingchuan gave a dry laugh. “So, state preceptor, from what you’re saying, the Generous Pot only appears during the season of mad sand?”

“That is highly likely to be the case.”

“Then count me out. You folks can stay here and enjoy yourselves.” He Lingchuan abruptly stood and turned away, calling over his shoulder, “Father, we’re going home!”

You want us to stay here during the season of mad sand? What kind of suicide mission is this? Of all the ways to die, I’m not about to travel so far just to pick the most miserable one!

But before he could take two steps, a figure flickered into place ahead of him.

Nian Songyu, sword in hand, now stood right in front of him. He said coldly, “Sit back down. Otherwise, I’ll put you in the ground right now. There’s no need for you to wait until the season of mad sand.”

“Oh?” He Lingchuan laughed instead of getting angry. “That was fast. Your underpants are already showing?” He Lingchuan then turned to his father and said, “Father, these two just want to use us as cannon fodder. Are you staying or not?”

He Chunhua gently set down his half-finished bowl of youmiancha and stood up. “The state preceptor has already laid out his plan and seems quite confident. From the looks of it, even without support from Heishui City, he still expects to return with the prize.”

Nian Songyu’s smile turned feral. “You think this is still Heishui City? Killing the two of you would be easier than slaughtering chickens! With you out of the picture, I’ll lead the two hundred men. Who would dare object?”

If the He father and son died, command would naturally fall to the next highest-ranking official. The expedition would still be in their hands.

Zeng Feixiong had already stood. With a sharp shing, half his blade came out of its scabbard. “Commandant Nian, I advise you to mind your tongue! We only follow Commandery Administrator He!”

At the sound, the guards stationed outside rushed in, surrounding the group on alert.

Just a few words, and the entire hall was on the brink of a fight.

He Lingchuan’s eyes flicked around, gears turning in his head.

If we tore the veil off right now, what would happen? Would these two really dare make a move against us?

Nian Songyu is undeniably formidable, but would these two hundred men really be able to handle State Preceptor Sun?

Is this the perfect chance to eliminate them?

The answers surfaced almost as quickly as the thoughts themselves.

No.

My father and I likely won’t be able to make it out in one piece should a fight truly break out. We have to think of something else.

“My, such temper in the young,” Sun Fuping said as he tossed down his hard biscuit and took a long gulp of water. “Commandery Administrator He, you’re known for being calm and steady. What are you doing, stirring the pot with your son? If this were a death trap, would I travel thousands of kilometers just to walk into it myself?”

But before He Chunhua could reply, He Lingchuan cut in sharply, “Of course you wouldn’t. You’d just let us walk into it for you.” These two have harbored ill intent from the start.

Nian Songyu sneered. “Still trying to raise the stakes? Was once not enough for you?”

He glared at He Lingchuan with growing disgust, and the feeling was mutual.

Neither of them bothered to hide it anymore.

“Everything else is negotiable, but State Preceptor, the season of mad sand wipes out all life in its path. This isn’t a joke, and this isn’t something we should even consider experimenting with,” He Chunhua said with a polite cough, trying to ease the tension. “Besides, we only have enough food and water for another three to five days. That’s nowhere near enough to wait for the season of mad sand to arrive.”

He was attempting to de-escalate things, and Sun Fuping cooperated smoothly.

“If we can trigger the season of mad sand, I’m confident I can bring everyone back alive. If not, then we’ll withdraw from Panlong City and return to Heishui before it begins. How about that?”

“Trigger the season of mad sand?” Situ Han, the leader of the desert bandits, finally could not help but interrupt. “That’s... something you can actually do?”

And what, get everyone killed sooner?

He had been lurking quietly in a corner, silently gnawing through a dry biscuit and roasting a few black-skinned scorpions. He knew he did not have the rank to speak here. Everyone else in this room was a big shot.

However, the more he listened, the more he felt like they were marching straight off a cliff.

“W-wait, hang on a second!” His face suddenly changed. “There are still people out there on the Hongya Route! If the season of mad sand starts early, they’re all as good as dead!”

“There are only a few days left until the season of mad sand anyway. Everyone who’s not an idiot already knows better than to try squeezing one last copper out of the desert,” Nian Songyu said dismissively. “Besides, when has the season of mad sand ever had a fixed date or hour? Commandery Administrator He, no matter the year, hasn’t there always been casualties on that road?”

1. Youmiancha (油面茶) is a traditional Chinese snack-like savory porridge or thick tea made from fried wheat flour, often mixed with ingredients like sesame paste, scallions, peanuts, or spices, and stirred with hot water or broth. Despite it having cha (茶) in its name, it’s definitely not tea. This is a comfort food still made in regions such as Shaanxi, though I’m fairly certain that it’s mostly the older generation that enjoys these nowadays. ☜