Where Immortals Once Walked

Chapter 246: If You’re Going to Play, Then Play Big

The Zhan Family halted in Bu County and did not move. That single decision added fuel to the rumor mill.

More and more of those who had followed them south were beginning to regret their choices.

Waiting made seconds feel like hours.

Eight hours later, when the sun was already descending toward the west, the rider that Zhan Song had sent to Dunyu finally galloped back, bringing news that left the Zhan Family unsure whether to celebrate or worry.

“Dunyu posted a notice in the middle of the night yesterday. And today the whole city’s decorated with lanterns and colorful streamers. Every tavern and restaurant was packed by noon. The Song Family Troupe even set up a stage at Little Jiaotian Square by the southern gate to perform all afternoon. I heard that the performance was organized by the provincial government itself.” The scout added, “There were also dozens of heads hanging from the city gates. Those heads supposedly belonged to the officers of the Xun Province cavalry, including the worst of the looters and killers. They’ve been dusted with lime, and people are flocking to see them. Oh, and Dunyu City has reopened its gates. The lockdown’s been lifted.”

Enemy heads hanging from the city gates?

Dunyu’s open again?

Zhan Song slowly sank deeper into his seat, the chill in his chest sinking deeper and deeper. “We’ve been had. We’ve been completely had.”

The members of the Zhan Family stared at him, speechless. They were all at a complete loss as to what to do now.

Someone asked hesitantly, “Could it be fake again?”

“How could a city that closed its gates yesterday already open them again today?”

“We’d barely reached Bu County when the victory reports came in. What are the chances of that happening by coincidence?”

“Exactly,” Zhan Song cut in, his voice sharp. “There are no coincidences like that.”

Everyone fell silent as they tried to process his words.

Someone ventured, “Do you mean to say that Governor-General He didn’t win?”

“He won,” Zhan Song said with a bitter laugh. “However, I suspect that he deliberately held back the news and used it to set us up. After all, the timing of a victory report is his to decide, isn’t it?”

A heavy silence descended over everyone.

When Dunyu City had seemingly been on the brink of collapse, they had been uneasy and full of dread.

But now that Governor-General He had triumphed, cutting down the enemy and parading their heads for all to see, they somehow felt even worse.

There were more than two hundred people from the Zhan Family traveling with them. What were they supposed to do now?

Were they supposed to go back to Dunyu?

In the past few days, they had sold off everything they could, shedding their assets like a snake shedding its skin. What would they return to, even if they did go back?

And what would the other three great families say? They alone had fled the city. Going back now would only make them the punchline of every other family’s joke.

Zhan Song felt as though his heart had been twisted into a knot—tight, rough, and painful.

What a massive loss. And all because he had lacked the patience to hold steady.

Had the Li Family caught wind of something ahead of time? Yesterday, he had seen Li Zhi still buying up property in Dunyu. Did that mean they had known?

He brooded for a long while before finally letting out a long, heavy sigh. “We’re not going back. We’ll keep heading south. We still have property down there, and the members who relocated earlier are already settled in Canglin County. There are enough houses there to take us all in.”

He did not say the rest of what was on his mind aloud:

Canglin County was not just a place where they had holdings; it was also closer to the provincial border. If Dunyu really did fall one day, they could simply keep walking and be out of Xia Province before the dust settled.

The members of the family exchanged glances. No one dared speak up. Everyone had their heads ducked, shoulders drawn in tight.

Then, Fourth Master Zhan suddenly slammed the table and rose to his feet, fury lighting up his eyes. “You can do what you want, but I’m going back! I still have a score to settle with the Li Family!”

His wife and son had been killed by the Li Family’s private soldiers. Justice had not yet been served.

“I told you from the start not to leave, but none of you would listen! And now look what’s happened! This is a blunder for the ages! How can any of you still show your faces back home?”

Second Master Zhan glanced at him, coughed lightly, and said in a placating tone, “Fourth Brother, that’s enough. Don’t get worked up. We were planning to move south anyway; it’s not like we were ever planning to stay.”

Zhan Song nodded slightly. “Let him go. We can’t let the Li Family get off that easy.”

He then gestured to a nearby steward. “You, take two men and accompany the fourth master back to Dunyu. Make sure he’s well looked after on the way.”

Letting Fourth Master Zhan return was not necessarily a bad thing. At least he could keep an eye on the Li Family and pressure the provincial government to finish handling the case fairly. Even if the Zhan Family left Dunyu, they had to make it so that the Li Family did not walk away unscathed. The compensation they owed—every single tael of it—would still be collected.

* * *

Dunyu City.

Just one day earlier, the wind had been bitter, the night oppressive, and the streets empty. Back then, not even dogs had barked.

Now, red lanterns gleamed along every street, streamers fluttered in the breeze, and crowds surged through the marketplaces like a river in flood.

The difference between heaven and hell could sometimes be bridged by a single resounding victory.

He Chunhua hosted a feast at Hesu Tower to “welcome the heroes home” and wash the dust from their journey, for which Zhao Qinghe and Wu Shaoyi were the guests of honor.

The army had actually returned victorious the morning before, but He Chunhua had kept them outside the city until today, when he finally let them enter in full regalia. The result was an outpouring of cheers and applause that shook the gates.

During the feast, the generals animatedly relived the battle’s fiercest moments, voices loud and faces glowing.

He Chunhua had deliberately chosen not to use private rooms. Instead, he rented out the entire second floor, so the noise and laughter could carry down to the common dining hall below.

Whenever the conversation reached an exciting part, someone from downstairs would come charging up, wine cup in hand, begging for the honor of a toast.

After that happened several times, He Lingchuan simply had the staff set up additional tables on the ground floor for a “flowing feast.” Anyone who came could eat and drink their fill.

The idea was simple: let the whole city share the joy.

And once the drink loosened tongues, the tales would spread like wildfire, each retelling grander than the last.

It was exactly as the He father and son had planned.

The feast began at noon and stretched until dusk, when the guests finally staggered away, drunk and sated.

He Lingchuan caught his father by the sleeve. “Hey, Father, don’t you go trying to stick me with the bill this time. Pay up now!”

He Chunhua, flushed with wine and triumph, waved a hand dismissively. “Put it on the provincial government’s tab!”

He Lingchuan could only laugh. He already knew the truth behind the so-called victory. Yes, their side had won, but the reports had been heavily embellished. The enemy force they had crushed was nowhere near the nine thousand men the proclamation boasted.

In reality, it had been about twelve hundred.

After Nian Zanli had broken through Zhao Pan’s defensive line, he had pulled his main army south to capture several more cities and solidify his foothold. To maintain pressure and confusion, he had also dispatched a few small cavalry units farther south to raid villages, rob grain convoys, and scout supply routes.

These detachments were quick and fierce but small; they were made up of no more than a few hundred riders each.

He Chunhua had long been aware that Xia Province’s soldiers were poorly trained and badly equipped. In open battle, they would crumble like sand. But on home ground, with numbers on their side, they still had a chance.

Before sending his generals out, he had drilled them repeatedly on the battle plan. Luck had also been on their side this time. Wu Shaoyi and Zhao Qinghe had managed to ambush two of the enemy detachments with the help of local villagers from Xinhuang, Hetao, and Lu’an. As for the third enemy detachment, they had retreated before any real fighting broke out.

The truth was that the Xun Province troops had grown complacent. They had no idea that He Chunhua had already arrived in Dunyu. Believing the province was undefended and having met little resistance in earlier raids, they had grown overconfident.

When He Chunhua’s forces fell upon them out of nowhere, it was a complete stomp. Even so, Xia Province had lost more than four hundred men.

When He Lingchuan learned the real numbers, he raised an eyebrow and gave his father a thumbs-up. “As expected of you, Father. If you’re going to fake it, fake it big!” He actually inflated the numbers fivefold!

“How else do you boost morale?” He Chunhua replied with a wry smile. “Half of winning a war is making people believe they can win.”

He Chunhua, sitting nearby, half-smiled, half-frowned. “True enough. With this victory, at least the soldiers won’t shrink back next time they face the Xun Province’s army.”

For He Chunhua himself, the win was more than just numbers. It cemented his authority in Dunyu and shifted the balance of power between him and the province’s four great families. For the first time, they would have to take him seriously.

The heavy boulder that had weighed on his heart since arriving in Xia Province had finally eased, if only halfway. With this momentum, he could now push forward the series of reforms he had long been planning.

Still, one worry remained, and that was the poor quality of Xia Province’s troops. Their weakness had been exposed beyond denial. The recruitment and training program he had drafted would have to begin immediately.

But for now, one thing was certain, and that was that the hardest days of their arrival in Dunyu were over.

That night, He Lingchuan once again entered the dreamscape.

But the moment he appeared, his old sparring partner Meng Shan raised the “truce” flag. The man said he was exhausted and needed a few days to recover.

It was understandable. After all, the last time they fought, He Lingchuan had nearly crushed his throat.

Even though Meng Shan had eventually forced him offline by grabbing him by the neck, he was still flesh and blood in this shared dream arena, unlike He Lingchuan, who enjoyed the dreamscape’s regenerative perks. Meng Shan’s wounds were real, and they needed days to heal.

At this point, He Lingchuan could already hold his ground for more than fifteen minutes against him.

The rules of the Martial Review Hall actually favored Meng Shan. Weapons lost their sharpness here, so blunt strength was king, and Meng Shan was built like an ox. No matter what He Lingchuan used against him, whether it be a spear, a staff, or a saber, the blows barely scratched him.

To make matters worse, the hall enforced direct duels. Tricks like ambushes or sneak attacks were useless.

Even so, He Lingchuan’s performance improved every session.

He had not yet earned enough military merit to exchange for new divine techniques, but months of fighting inside the dreamscape had let him pick up plenty of useful skills from observing others. Recently, he had learned to use a new piece of equipment: the sleeve arrow[1].

As the name suggested, it was a concealed weapon hidden in the sleeve. With a flick of the wrist, it could strike any target within thirty or so paces.

The version in the Martial Review Hall was crude, with both the arrow case and the arrow being wooden, but even so, He Lingchuan had once come within a hair’s breadth of shooting out Meng Shan’s eye.

Back in the waking world, he immediately commissioned Li Fubo to forge a real set for him. The case was to be made of purple copper, the arrowheads alloyed with a touch of refined gold, two arrows per launch.

Each arrow shaft would also bear two strings of talismanic script, as well as two arrays. One was for “wind control,” preventing deflection by air currents, and the other was for “piercing edge,” enhancing penetration power. After all, sleeve arrows did not have the strength of a longbow; they needed the assistance of magic.

A complete set came with six short arrows and the option to coat them with poison.

He also asked Li Fubo to integrate a hook-and-line mechanism, so that each dart could attach to a line if necessary, making it perfect for retrieval or improvising as a grappling tool.

The price tag? Three hundred taels of silver. That was half the cost of a decent storefront, and that was already with the “friends and family” discount.

Li Fubo had grinned, giving him a thumbs-up. “A wise purchase, Young Master. These things are incredibly practical. Many of Songyang Mansion’s patrons swear by them. They come back all the time to restock their arrows.”

He Lingchuan had nearly rolled his eyes.

If they’re that useful, why didn’t you recommend them sooner?

He had also considered another legendary hidden weapon he had read about, known as the torrential pear blossom needle, but the moment Li Fubo quoted the price, especially since most of the dozens of special steel pins could not even be recovered after use, he immediately dropped the idea.

Whoever invented that thing must have been made of money!

1. Feel free to search up “袖箭” to see what this looks like. ☜