Where Immortals Once Walked

He Lingchuan could not help but notice her sharp and deeply set features. She had a high nose bridge and slightly prominent cheekbones. Her face was both sculpted and refined, but bore no resemblance to the soft, demure beauty typical of the so-called “delicate flowers of the boudoir.”

He then recounted everything that had happened after he leaped into the spider den, though he deliberately left out the part where he slit his own throat.

Throughout his account, Sun Fuling remained silent, listening intently. Only when he finished did she speak. “So the legends about Zhu Ernian were true? People have spoken of her for ages. It seems she must have been a monster immortal back in ancient times.”

“Monster immortal?” He Lingchuan thought about it, then nodded. “Ah, right. When a human ascends, they’re a human immortal, or typically just called an immortal. On the other hand, when a monster ascends, they’re called a monster immortal.”

“Yet now she’s bound by the constraints of a guardian spirit. At least, she must have once made a pact not to harm passing mortals.” Sun Fuling sighed softly. “From an ancient monster immortal to this, how pitiful.”

“You seem quite interested in ancient gods and immortals.” He glanced at her in mild surprise. The woman could barely afford her next meal.

“It’s just a passing thought.” Sun Fuling poked at the firewood with her tongs. “There were so many immortals and immortal techniques in those days. If we had lived then, we could’ve soared through the clouds and broken free from this cage of earth.”

“Cage, huh?” He Lingchuan caught the undertone in her words. “Panlong City has stood firm for generations, and it’s produced figures like the Red General, yet you still see it as such? The Panlong Wasteland’s vast. In fact, it’s probably larger than many small states put together.”

“Those small states aren’t besieged the way Panlong City is. They don’t have to fight tooth and nail just to survive.” Sun Fuling rested her chin in one hand. “The states of Baling and Xianyou have been trying to seize the Panlong Wasteland for more than ten years and still refuse to give up. If only they could live in peace with Panlong City.”

“This wasteland is the corridor to the West Luo in the east and to Lu Lake in the southeast. If they can’t conquer it, Baling and Xianyou can’t expand eastward.” He Lingchuan dipped his fingers into the rainwater jar and traced a rough map on the table. “Lu Lake sits upstream of the Hongchuan. From there, they could sail east all the way to the sea.”

“But why must they expand at all?”

That question caught He Lingchuan off guard.

The world had never truly known peace, but states always had tangible, practical motives for their wars. “Does Ms. Sun know?”

“They’re being devoured from the north by the monster state,” Sun Fuling said, wetting her fingers and adding to his map. “Though they’ve fought back several times, they’ve lost more than they’ve won. Take Baling, for example, four years ago, they lost the Honghe Plateau, their richest source of copper and iron. Some of their soldiers can’t even replace rust-eaten weapons anymore. If this goes on, what will become of them?”

He Lingchuan frowned. “So because they lost land to the monster state, they’ve come to seize ours instead?” None of the plays or chronicles he had seen had ever mentioned such things. Even the local archives were silent on it.

The thought sparked something in him. Among Sun Fuping’s belongings was a personal journal, one that He Chunhua had kept for himself, claiming it was filled with heretical nonsense. He’d said it mostly described the man’s pursuit of the Generous Pot. But could it also contain records of Panlong City’s past?

“Who told them West Luo is weak?” Sun Fuling sighed. “The weak are never pitied; they’re only preyed upon.”

“After that defeat at Honghe Plateau, Baling’s old state preceptor Qian Hang resigned in shame, and Shao Yan took his place,” she continued. “Baling has three state preceptors in all. As the newest one, Shao Yan needed to prove himself. The fighting between Baling and Panlong City had grown dull after so many years, with both sides exhausted. Shao Yan likely thought Panlong City had grown lax, so he sent Shao Yingyang south with an army for a surprise assault.”

He Lingchuan studied her. “How do you know all this?” For someone who could barely afford dinner, her grasp of world affairs was impressive.

“I attend every open lecture at the Hall of Inquiry. They cover not just current affairs but also famous scholars’ commentaries. They’re very thought-provoking,” Sun Fuling said with a faint smile. “Also, I often borrow books from the historical archives.”

He Lingchuan blinked, then broke into a grin. “There’s a historical archive here?”

“Of course. It’s right next to your Bureau of Invigoration. I even fed Master Zhang once from its upper balcony.”

“Master Zhang...” The octopus monster who tests people’s aptitudes? “You had spare food to feed him?”

“I wasn’t always this poor.” Her smile faded a little. “In five days I’ll receive my stipend, and now that I don’t have to pay off my brother’s debts, I just need to hold out until then.”

“And what do you do for a living, Ms. Sun?”

She lifted her chin slightly. “I teach at Shumin State Academy.”

“So you’re a teacher at a state academy, my apologies for not recognizing it sooner.” He had heard of Shumin State Academy; his neighbor once scolded his own son, saying that getting accepted there would bring glory to their ancestors. The academy took its name from the mountain where it was founded. It had begun as a local academy known as the Shumin County Academy, but just last year Zhong Shengguang himself had inscribed its new name, raising it to the rank of a state academy.

From this alone, one could see how dramatically Zhong Shengguang’s mindset has shifted.

But that was straying from the point.

Panlong City, like most places, was thick with private tutors and clan schools, while Shumin State Academy was a true state institution. Not just anyone could study there, and money alone would not automatically allow one to pass through its gates.

By the same token, landing a faculty post at such a top institution was no easy feat. Sun Jiayuan’s younger sister clearly had her own set of skills.

As an officially recognized teacher or instructor of Shumin State Academy, Sun Fuling might not be raking it in, but her salary was certainly above the common run, at least definitely more than enough to keep herself fed.

“You’re too kind,” Sun Fuling said with a slight tilt of her head in return.

When the water boiled, He Lingchuan poured a cup for her. “No wonder you’re so well informed. If I run into confusing things later on, I’ll have to trouble you for advice.”

“Of course.” She accepted the cup but did not drink, warming her hands on it instead. “Willow said you only just moved to Panlong City and don’t know your way around yet. If anything confuses you, just ask me directly.” With that, she rose to take her leave. “It’s late. I shouldn’t impose on you. Get some rest.”

She stepped out of He Lingchuan’s little courtyard and even swung the door shut behind her.

This Ms. Sun walks fast. Does she always have to race the bell to make it to class on time? He Lingchuan picked up the cup she had declined and drained the hot water in a single swallow.

* * *

Once the Coordinating Army joined up with the forces from Songyang Mansion, their numbers swelled, and with origin energy bolstering them, what monster or bandit would dare block their path? The journey that followed was uneventful.

The next day, the Coordinating Army reached Ru County, just a step from the border of Xia Province.

Unable to help himself, He Chunhua took the opportunity to wipe out two troublesome monster dens and bandit lairs along the march.

From Heishui City to here, the Coordinating Army had seen skirmishes large and small, and their spirit and bearing were nothing like when they first set out. Thanks to the natural barrier of the Panlong Desert, the frontier had actually been fairly quiet in recent years. The Heishui City garrison’s daily duties were mostly cracking down on sand bandits and patrolling the Hongya Route. There was hardly any chance for real, formal warfare.

But an army is like a blade—the more you grind it, the sharper it gets.

Granted, in He Lingchuan’s eyes, this force could not even hold a candle to the Gale Army, and it lagged well behind Panlong City’s patrolmen, too. Even so, Mozhe Jingxuan and Wu Shaoyi now rated it highly, saying, “It can stand against the royal army without coming off worse, if only it had more men.”

He Lingchuan did not take that as mere flattery. After thousands of kilometers over land and water, he had seen with his own eyes how Great Yuan’s military had decayed, with its equipment neglected and discipline lax.

With a bit more experience under his belt, he realized that even official troops, whether local or central, were frankly nothing to brag about in terms of combat power.

No wonder, back then, Hong Xiangqian could lead a peasant “Righteous Army” to rout government forces again and again, seize even Woling Pass, and have Shihuan City and the capital sounding the alarm one after another.

A layer of ice a meter thick does not form in a single day’s cold—serious problems or situations do not arise overnight.

The recent streak of victories against bandits and monsters had done wonders for morale, yet He Chunhua’s spirits showed no sign of lifting. The farther north they traveled, the worse the situation became. Judging from the devastation along the route, whether it be the starving people, the rampant monsters, or the lawless bandits, the conditions in Xia Province must be even worse the farther south they went.[1]

And from this point on, that would all be his territory.

Whose mood could possibly stay bright when his own domain was riddled with troubles?

That day, the army reached Ru County and halted there to resupply. From here, another thirty hours of travel north would bring them to the provincial capital, Dunyu.

After such a grueling march, the end was finally in sight. Madame Ying’s spirits soared. At the post station, she washed away the dust of the journey, changed into a silk gown, and carefully refreshed her makeup. Satisfied with her radiant reflection in the mirror, she stepped out with her usual poise.

But in the common hall, only her two sons, one monkey, and two wolves were warming themselves by the fire. Her husband was nowhere to be seen.

She had only been freshening up for two hours, and he was already gone?

Her expression darkened instantly. “Where’s your father? Don’t tell me he’s gone off to see the Marquis of Songyang again!”

He Chunhua had rarely discussed political matters with his wife, yet ever since they began traveling north, he and the Marquis of Songyang had been in constant conversation, talking as if they were long-lost friends reunited at last. Madame Ying was deeply annoyed, but since their talks revolved around official matters, specifically the situation in the north, or the cooperation between the He Family and Songyang Mansion, she had no grounds to object.

Still, every time her husband burst out laughing during their discussions, Madame Ying’s teeth ground in frustration. Two days ago, he had even sent that woman a delivery of silver-thread charcoal[2]!

The way the two of them were talking, could it really end with just conversation? Was it not only a matter of time before talk turned to something more... applaudable?[3]

Her voice suddenly shot up an octave, startling He Yue. He Lingchuan, lounging lazily, said, “Calm down, Mother. Father went to the county yamen for official business.”

Madame Ying looked doubtful. “Truly?”

“It’s true,” He Yue added quickly. “He went with a very serious face.”

Her expression softened a little. “Really?”

As long as her husband was not out visiting that woman, she could breathe easier.

He Lingchuan stretched out his long legs and propped them on the low table. “Father’s got nothing but government and military affairs on his mind these days.”

Of course, he did not say the rest. After all, having his head full of politics did not mean the other head was not busy too. Men were perfectly capable of thinking with both at once.

During their earlier skirmishes with monsters and bandits, He Chunhua had treated the fights as field drills, assigning his officers to take turns commanding troops. Even He Yue had gotten a taste of battle. Only He Lingchuan had been spared from start to finish, living the easy life.

He had wanted to join in too, but his father had merely clapped him on the shoulder with a smile. “Why use a butcher’s knife to kill a chicken?”

When did I become Father’s butcher’s knife? “Honestly, Mother, the one person you least need to worry about is the Marquis of Songyang.”

1. Keep in mind that Heishui City was basically to the northwest of Xia Province, but they first headed south to Shihuan, which was south of Heishui City. ☜

2. This is basically high-grade charcoal. Also, the gesture is actually one of warmth, both literally and symbolically. ☜

3. Erm, I’m pretty sure the applaudable part is referring to the sound of something else here. Anyway, I just decided to translate it literally. ☜