Where Immortals Once Walked

The Kuzhu County magistrate, acting on behalf of the Royal Court of Yuan, immediately enfeoffed the creature as the new water spirit of the Hongchuan. He took out an official document on the spot, then pressed the thick lips of the great fish against it for a seal. Afterward, he stamped it himself with both the county treasury’s Yuan Coin and the official seal.

As soon as the stamp was made, a flash of azure light rippled over the black fish’s body. With that, the ritual was complete, and a new water spirit had been born.

Only then did the soldiers push the last fat pig into the pool. The black fish seized it and sank straight to the bottom, vanishing from sight.

The magistrate, weary now, came over to thank He Chunhua. Without the Coordinating Army lending its strength, his display would never have been so impressive.

With the water spirit in place again, the Hongchuan was at peace. Fengling Port could reopen, and the merchants waiting at the bank boarded their boats with broad smiles.

Seizing a moment’s leisure, He Lingchuan wandered about Fengling Port. Three hundred paces from the dock, he spotted an especially striking old locust tree growing on a sandy islet.

There were many locust trees here, yet his eyes went straight to that one, for it was truly unique.

It was a lightning-struck tree.

The old locust had definitely been massive, and its trunk was so thick that four men could barely encircle it. No one knew how many centuries it had stood. Then heaven itself had cast it down, blasting it with thunderbolts that split the trunk and burned away all its upper boughs until it was nearly charred to ash.

And yet, life proved stubborn. From the blackened, seemingly lifeless trunk had sprouted tender shoots, which grew into fresh new branches.

Compared to the mother tree, the new growth was small. But from top to bottom, it bristled with vitality.

Now He Lingchuan understood what the old turtle monster had meant by the “Revived Old Locust Tree.” Indeed, it was obvious at a glance.

And the tree’s isolation on that sandy islet kept it well out of reach of idle hands.

He circled it a few times and found no tree hollow, but he was not discouraged. If a hollow were that easy for him to discover, other beasts and birds would have long since found it too.

Feeling around the charred trunk, he discovered a depression among the roots. He drew his short blade and began to dig into the sand and soil.

The sand and soil were loose and soft, and he dug deeper and deeper until he uncovered a wide hollow beneath the roots. Normally, it lay buried under sand, with only a few crabs drowsing inside.

He tossed the crabs aside, then placed the turtle egg within. After a moment’s thought, he lined it with water weeds for bedding and set a small vial of medicine beside it.

In for a penny, in for a pound; since he was already here, he might as well see the job through thoroughly.

He refilled the sand, completely burying the hollow. The current would do the rest, smoothing the place until no trace of a hole remained.

With that, he had fulfilled the turtle monster’s request.

“Farewell, then.” He brushed the sand from his hands, and at last he understood why the turtle egg had to be hatched here.

This old locust had once withered and burned, only to be reborn. Its vitality was unmatched. That was the power the turtle needed for its own second birth.

Perhaps the turtle monster had once grown up here. After all, the locust tree was far older than it.

Just then, He Yue called from a distance, “Brother, the boat’s leaving!”

“With fate, we’ll meet again. May you have brilliant future prospects in cultivation then.” He Lingchuan patted the charred trunk, rose to his feet, and walked away.

The Coordinating Army boarded at Fengling Port as well, riding the surging current of the Hongchuan downstream toward Shihuan City.

* * *

He Lingchuan stretched and sat up in bed.

He was still groggy when a loud cry rang out in the street, “Announcement! Announcement!”

That voice sounded awfully familiar.

He nearly forgot to pull his hand back from where it had reached, then glanced out the window. Dusk was falling, and the water jar was full.

A jar?

He remembered falling asleep aboard ship, the last sound in his ears being the gentle slap of waves against the hull, not the din of a crowded street.

He had once again entered Panlong City.

In three quick strides, he bounded to the door and stepped into the street. Sure enough, the announcer was repeating the same decree as before. Imperial nectar was about to descend, and the city would enforce a three-day curfew starting tonight.

So I’m in the continuation of the last dream?

Unbelievable. Four days had passed in the real world, yet in the dreamscape of Panlong City, not even two hours had gone by! The difference in time’s flow was capricious indeed.

The sun had already set. With nowhere to go, he ducked into a tavern nearby, bought several jars of wine, and rushed home to pour them out and rinse them clean for holding nectar.

He emptied the water jar as well, then dragged out every pot, bowl, and ladle he owned, arranging them neatly in the courtyard.

He even remembered Hu Min’s advice to cut two long branches off the courtyard tree, lest they stretch into a neighbor’s yard and cause trouble.

No sooner had he finished these preparations than a roar of cheers rose outside, like the sound of countless voices in jubilation.

Stepping into the yard, he saw azure rain falling.

A stranger the first time, familiar the next. He knew at once that this was imperial nectar.

Panlong City’s forecasts were uncanny. They had even predicted this miraculous weather to the hour.

What astonished him further was that this batch was thicker, richer, and darker in hue than what he had seen in reality. This at last deserved the title of “syrup.”

In reality, imperial nectar had been little more than a fine mist, and anyone who caught a drop was lucky. But here, it fell like a light to moderate rain. He Lingchuan stretched out his hand, and within moments, several bright azure drops collected in his palm.

He tasted them and they tasted exquisite!

Desire surged up from the depths of his heart. But this time he was prepared, and with effort he crushed the impulse down, then leaped onto the roof.

He flipped over roof tiles, aligning them into shallow troughs. Nectar streamed along the grooves and into his waiting wine jars.

It was only a trickle, but gathered over time, it was worth more than its weight in gold.

The neighbor brought out two jars, climbed his own roof, and, seeing He Lingchuan’s arrangement, hurried to copy it.

He Lingchuan also noticed him covering his nose and mouth with a cloth, to breathe in less of the nectar’s intoxicating fragrance and keep the beastly hunger at bay. He hastily followed suit.

Faces flushed red, veins standing out, everyone still forced themselves to resist the urge to seize more. Nectar had descended several times in the past three years; most people already knew the drill. Endure now, and the reward later would be immense.

He even saw children wailing in tears, tied fast to tables by cautious parents so that they would not go running about and ruin everything.

Then came the heavy thud of footsteps passing by his door, accompanied by a low, rumbling growl.

He looked down.

A mechanical beast was walking calmly down the street. Its form and size were that of a tiger or leopard, with two green lights burning in its eyes. At a glance, it was downright eerie.

The beast looked like it was just trudging along, but whenever it caught the sound of a quarrel or scuffle from a nearby house, it would shuffle up to the wall, dig its foreclaws into the plaster, and rake at the door. Then came two thunderous roars that shook the rafters and cowed the residents inside.

About the time it took for a stick of incense to burn, another mechanical beast came by on patrol. The two alternated in shifts.

If he were not so busy wrestling with his own greed, He Lingchuan would have given them a thumbs-up.

These constructs must have been sent out by the Panlong City authorities as their night watch. To them, human nature was the least reliable thing of all; brute force and machines were far more dependable.

At a time when every living being was losing control under the lure of imperial nectar, only lifeless mechanisms like these could remain unmoved, carrying out their duties exactly as designed.

The mechanical beast could patrol, locate disturbances, and intimidate wrongdoers all by itself. He Lingchuan wondered which great master had created it.

Sure enough, he soon heard the smash of crockery and jars not far away, followed by shouts and sobs. Someone had lost the battle against desire, lashing out in a frenzy over nectar.

Human nature could never be left unchecked.

A single roar came from the mechanical beast, and He Lingchuan heard its heavy footfalls thunder off in that direction.

Moments later came a chorus of screams, cut off just as suddenly. There was no doubt that those who started the fight had been dealt with.

That grim lesson was enough to quiet the neighbors for a time.

And so, in a long night of torment and restraint, time inched by.

This descent of imperial nectar lasted far longer than the one He Lingchuan had previously witnessed. It was not until the eastern sky grew pale that it finally ceased.

He scraped the nectar from the branches and gathered up every container he had set out. Pouring them together, he ended with a full wine jar of emerald nectar.

Once the lid was sealed, the fragrance was gone, and with it the maddening temptation. He Lingchuan let out a long breath and wiped the sweat from his brow. The hardest night was behind them, and now everyone could savor the fruits of endurance.

But staring at the wine jar in his hands, he hesitated.

Nectar gained in a dream should not, by any logic, strengthen his body in reality. After all, this was all supposed to be but a mere illusion.

The rational choice would be to hand it over and exchange it at the Office of Merits for merit. Hu Min had said so himself that merit was hard to earn, but it could buy the rarest of treasures.

This windfall of nectar was just such an opportunity.

Of course, it had to be tested first. With that thought, He Lingchuan tucked the jar away and set out.

Dawn had broken, the curfew lifted, but few citizens were on the streets. Most were still holed up at home tallying their harvest. He flagged down a busy donkey cart to carry him to Hu Min’s residence.

Along the way, he passed several scorched or toppled houses, city guards hauling out bodies or clearing debris.

So even with mechanical beasts patrolling, even with Panlong City’s stern edicts, even with laws harsh as iron, and even with citizens tempered by years of war to obey orders without question, human greed had still found its cracks.

Hu Min lived in a tin house, which was still technically part of the residential district, but it was four classes higher than He Lingchuan’s shabby shack. The streets were broad and clean, lined with neat rows of trees and flowers. Every household had a small courtyard at least four times the size of his, and though the environment put his own lane to shame, the design was rigidly uniform. The houses here had black gates, black tiles, and red walls, with not a finger’s breadth of difference in size. It was as though they were stamped out from a single mold.

Clearly, unauthorized additions were not permitted here.

Each street was identical, and it took him some time to finally pick out Hu Min’s house.

The man had just finished refining a batch of imperial nectar powder. Opening the door, he frowned in surprise. “So early? Shouldn’t you be refining medicine yourself?”

“I’ll trade you some nectar for a taste of your finished product. Just a small sip.”