Where Immortals Once Walked

Before the man could finish speaking, a flash of light blinded his eye for half a second. The cavalry officer’s spearpoint was now right at his throat.

Startled, he staggered back two steps, but the spear’s cold light flared, shadowing his every move.

The tip of the spear still hovered about ten centimeters from his neck, yet the murderous aura rolling off it seemed to lick at his skin. The sheer force of that killing intent made it hard for Young Master Sun to even breathe.

“One more word, and I’ll take your head right off your body and send it to Commandery Administrator Sun.”

Young Master Sun’s face turned ashen, and the rest of his protest died in his chest.

With even him cowed, the Sun Family’s other servants and guards did not dare intervene. The pace on-site quickened. Teams of two horses became teams of three or five, and the wagons bearing the ten crates of military supplies soon hauled themselves up through the bog of mud.

The rest of the Sun Mansion’s cargo was shoved aside by sheer manpower, dragged down the slope, or pitched straight into the river.

The commoners pilfering trinkets from the Sun Family’s goods did not escape the cavalry officer’s notice, but he did not intervene. In this crisis, catching thieves or keeping order was meaningless; clearing the way so the group could escape came first.

Once the road was open again, a cheer went up from the crowd. The cavalry officer guided his horse, ready to ride for the rear.

That was when shouts and cries erupted far behind them. Refugees were streaming forward in panic, weeping as they ran.

The pursuers had arrived.

Faces drained of color; people scrambled up the slope in a frenzy. More than a few lost their footing and tumbled straight into the river.

Officer Xiao’s voice cracked like a whip as he said, “Any man still fit to fight, come with us to hold the rear! Make it through the pass and you’ll be richly rewarded!”

He called it out three times, his voice rolling across the riverbed like thunder.

In the ranks, Liu Sanjiu glanced back, clearly tempted. But his wife clamped onto his arm. “Don’t even think about it! You’ve got children!”

A dead man meant a widow and orphans in a strange land, and she knew all too well what that would mean.

Liu Sanjiu swallowed hard, turned away, and scooped up his child to run on.

Still, more than a dozen men peeled out of the fleeing crowd. Some moved without hesitation, while others only moved after a moment’s struggle. They rushed toward the officer.

Officer Xiao pointed to the newly opened Sun Family crates. “You’re pressed into service. If you live through this day, you’ll be granted rank, extra rations, and land! Pick a weapon, pick a horse! Archers, get up the slope and into the trees! Ready yourselves!”

The men began choosing arms at once.

Some were wiry and underfed, but they knew that if the Gale Army could not hold here, the rest of the refugees ahead would be slaughtered, and their own families with it.

This was a fight no one could truly escape, so they might as well gamble everything. If they survived, life in exile could be far better.

The current place they were at was not truly a hilly area. Here, there was only the exposed riverbed left dry during the dry season, its banks about ten to fifteen meters high. The road along the bed was a shortcut into Panlong City’s territory, one known only to the Gale Army, who understood the terrain and the seasons. Without it, the refugees would have to detour through the stone forest above, losing three whole hours.

Three hours was enough time to change the outcome of a battle.

Yet the enemy had still caught up. Wei City had fallen even faster than anyone imagined.

Archers scrambled up the riverbank, taking the high ground and nocking arrows.

The rest strapped on light armor and gripped their weapons. One man shouted, “Let’s haul the big wagons back and block the road! That way, we can slow their advance!”

The Sun Family’s wagons full of household goods were still there by the roadside.

A short while ago, they had been blocking the refugees. Now, they could block the pursuers just as well, serving as ready-made barricades.

Officer Xiao’s eyes lit with approval. “Good idea. What’s your name?”

“My surname’s He.” The man grinned, flashing white teeth. “I’m He Lingchuan.”

He had already decided. If the worst outcome was simply waking up, then what was there to worry about? In this dream, he might as well cut loose and have some fun.

Trailing along behind a flood of refugees just to eke out a little more life, what meaning was there in that?

“The rearguard knows the terrain. They’ll be pulling back here. Leave a gap in the barricade for them to pass,” Officer Xiao ordered, swinging down from his horse to join the rest in the mud. Step by slogging step, they heaved the wagons into position halfway up the slope.

It was grueling work. Horses could barely manage it, and it was even worse for men. The Gale Army kept a steady chant, hauling in unison to drag each wagon into place.

No one complained. Every ounce of effort they put in now meant that the enemy would face two or three times the difficulty in moving the blockade later.

To add to the trouble, they dug the mud ruts deeper beneath the wheels, so the carriages would be even harder to budge.

He Lingchuan stayed close to Commander Xiao. Rain plastered his clothes to his skin, and when he threw his weight into the work, the muscles in his neck and shoulders swelled into taut, hard lines.

Between the two of them, they managed to drag a wagon into place.

Then, they shifted two heavy crates onto it. Before He Lingchuan had even straightened up, Officer Xiao spoke: “You’re not from Wei City, are you?”

The question caught him off guard, though he kept his expression vague. “Huh?”

“Your accent’s different, and your clothes aren’t right.” The cavalry officer tilted his chin toward the slope above. “Wei City folk are mostly smaller-built.”

Glancing up, He Lingchuan saw the archers crouched to the side—slender, wiry men.

“No,” he answered quickly, knowing a wrong reply could mean death. “I’m from Tusu.”

Tusu City had fallen over a decade ago. Refugees ending up in Wei City was entirely plausible.

He quickly followed with his own question, “Will we have reinforcements?”

Otherwise, holding here would be suicide.

“Yes.” The cavalry officer’s tone was absolute. “Within two hours, at most.”

He spoke loudly, and the nearby soldiers straightened at once.

They only had to last two hours, then help would come.

Men were still rummaging through the Sun Family crates, looking for anything useful. Most of the military gear had already gone ahead, leaving only one box of weapons.

Scattered everywhere were gold and silver trinkets, and the newly conscripted fighters could not help but eye them. He Lingchuan even saw one man slip a gold platter into his shirt.

Officer Xiao saw it too, but he did not stop him. “Too much weight will slow you down. Live through this, and you can take whatever you like.”

Grins spread across faces.

He Lingchuan pried open another crate, glanced inside, and froze. “Was this Commandery Administrator Sun descended from a taotie[1]? Did he pack up every single thing he owns?”

Officer Xiao came over, looked inside, and could not help but laugh. “Useful! Not military gear, but still useful. Set it up now.”

Looking over the heap of gilded trinkets and baubles, He Lingchuan’s eyes gleamed. “I’ve got another idea. Why don’t we...”

The cavalry officer liked the suggestion and put it into practice.

They spent a considerable amount of time on their preparations.

Behind them, more and more refugees came fleeing up the slope through the gap in the barricade.

Two quarters of an hour later, the sound of killing drew closer and closer.

Officer Xiao and his men stood waiting halfway up the slope, every sense sharpened. Rain lashed their faces, but no one felt cold.

1. A taotie (饕餮) is a mythical Chinese creature, known for its insatiable appetite. ☜