Where Immortals Once Walked

The older she was and the broader her network, the more noble families she kept company with. At her age, she would not be out in public watching operas. Instead, she would have the troupe brought into her home, set up a stage, and perform there. And really, what fun would it be to enjoy it alone? Invite three or five... no, ten ladies over, and then it would be lively. Garden parties worked the same way. Women of her age, with money and leisure, practically lived for socializing. She had long since grown tired of the same few faces at home.

So, if some juicy new gossip came her way, how could she possibly resist sharing it with her circle of old sisters?

He Lingchuan shook his head. His father had sent plenty of people to the capital. Once the word got out, Old Madame He was not going to be the only one spreading it. Little Two’s guess was correct. His father was working hard to push the rumor into the streets, giving the royal court no chance to deny the He Family’s merits.

On his way to eat, two bolts of lightning suddenly rolled across the sky.

It had only been sunny for two days, and now the heavy, muffled thunder had returned with the rain.

* * *

The downpour was so fierce that it was hard to keep his eyes open. He Lingchuan wiped the water from his face. In just a dozen breaths, even his underclothes and socks were soaked through, clinging unpleasantly to his skin.

All he had done was visit the latrine after dinner, and when he stepped out, the whole scene had changed.

Darkness loomed in every direction. The He Family’s storm lanterns were gone. The only light came from the occasional flash of lightning overhead.

He could not see clearly in the dark, but he was certain that he was no longer at the He Mansion. Thick weeds as tall as a man surrounded him. If the family’s gardeners dared to slack off like this, Madame Ying would have thrown them out long ago.

Mud, sand, water, and tangled roots covered the ground, forcing him to stumble forward. There was no path ahead, so he pushed the weeds aside to make his way through.

Glancing back, he saw a massive boulder behind him.

No path back. Forward it is, then.

He groped ahead, covering a dozen or so paces, when his foot suddenly met empty air!

He had been paying close attention, only shifting his weight when he was sure of his footing, so he did not panic. He simply leaned back and stepped away.

Parting the grass, he found it was a dead end.

Beneath him yawned a cliff, a sheer drop of over twenty meters.

If he had gone over, he might not have died, but he would probably be half-dead at least.

He Lingchuan let out a long breath, wiping the grass seeds and rain from his face. How did I end up in the middle of some remote wilderness? Still, after the previous time, he was not too shocked.

A sudden scene shift and a gap in his memory. This was most likely the broken saber’s doing again.

Couldn’t the thing at least let me have a blade when it drags me into these dreamscapes? Even just to hack through the grass would be nice.

Now... where am I supposed to go?

Two blue-white bolts of lightning split the sky, lighting the world in a blinding flash and revealing what lay below.

At the foot of the cliff stretched a vast plain, broken only by the occasional low hill. From here, he could see it all.

Most importantly, there were people on it!

A group moved almost directly beneath the low cliff where he stood, less than fifty meters away. From his vantage point, the line of travelers stretched beyond sight.

Hm, they don’t look like a military team.

There were men and women in the group, most dressed as commoners. The wealthy rode in carriages or on horseback, but the ordinary folk trudged on foot through the wind and rain, leaning on one another for support.

Most carried bundles or slung packs over their shoulders, while oxen and donkeys bore loads of household goods. Meanwhile, dogs darted underfoot. He Lingchuan even spotted a girl of eleven or twelve, clutching her mother’s hand with one arm while hugging a small cat to her chest with the other.

Under the wash of the rain, her face was pale as paper, making her eyes seem all the larger, round, and brimming with confusion and helplessness.

A refugee group?

Cavalrymen patrolled back and forth along the line, much like soldier ants swarming beside an ant column on the march.

The light armor of these riders was instantly familiar. He Lingchuan recognized them at a glance as members of the Gale Army.

So this time, the Gale Army makes its appearance much earlier.

After a dozen or so breaths of thought, he decided to blend into the group. Out here in the wild hills, where else was he supposed to go? At least if he followed the Gale Army, the group had a destination.

More importantly, he had already noticed one rider hand his reins to a comrade, then scramble up the cliffside toward He Lingchuan’s position, using both hands and feet.

On such a dark night, with grass so thick, the man could not possibly have spotted him, so there was only one reason for him to even be climbing up: he was a scout, heading for the highest ground to watch for threats.

Which also meant there were pursuers behind them.

He Lingchuan did not dwell on it. He slipped down the rock face on the opposite side, tiptoeing.

The torrential rain muffled most sounds, and in the pitch-black night, everyone had to keep their heads down to watch their footing. Besides, plenty of people slipped away behind a low hill to relieve themselves before hurrying back. Sliding into the group was easy; no one paid him any mind.

In a refugee group, who knew who?

Even the Gale Army riders passing by paid him no attention. Last time, he had been spotted right away because he was alone in a strange land, an obvious outsider. But now, surrounded by hundreds of ordinary folk, his head lowered like everyone else’s, no cavalryman was going to spare him a second glance.

So, He Lingchuan walked quietly with them for over an hour. Along the way, he even helped carry loads for people, earning a few words of thanks and using the chance to steer the talk toward what he wanted to know.

On the plains, rain never seemed to end. Open your mouth, and cold water would flow straight in. But out of gratitude, the family he helped explained that they lived next to a distillery in Sui Town, Wei City.

The man of the house was surnamed Liu. He worked in the distillery brewing wine, and because he was third in rank among his generation, everyone called him Liu Sanjiu. He was traveling with his wife and two children, fleeing because the Baling army’s latest assault had been especially fierce. Wei City could not hold, so they gathered their bedding and ran in the night, leaving much behind.

Fortunately, only a few hours later, the Gale Army had arrived to escort them, giving everyone a measure of peace of mind.

And where were they headed?

If they could make it east to Shadan Pass, they would be safe—it was already Panlong City’s territory there.

But as for how long it would take to get there?

It was hard to say. Out here, with no landmarks to speak of, no one could honestly know exactly how far they were from where they wanted to go.

After walking so long with the group, He Lingchuan felt a weight settle in his chest. He knew that this was very likely a real scene from history.

The Panlong Wasteland, though called a wasteland, was far richer than the desert it would one day become, and could sustain many towns. He remembered that Wei City lay a few hundred li west of Panlong City, well-provisioned and well-defended, yet it had held out for nearly twenty years before falling to enemy assault.

What he saw today was likely what it had looked like in those final days before Wei City’s fall. This was a glimpse into history.

The most pitiful thing was that some of these civilians were not leaving their homes for the first time.