Where Immortals Once Walked

“You didn’t know all these years, did you? Haven’t you been living just fine?”

The trouble was that he knew now. Village Chief Liang felt like crying, but no tears came. Ever since that moment in the dining room, he had the eerie sense that a pair of eyes hovered just outside, watching him with venomous hatred.

And this was during broad daylight, so what about when night fell?

“If you’re worried, then make more offerings. Also, the child died in the water, so he’ll only ever show up around water. If there’s nothing urgent you have to do, then keep your distance from wells and streams.” He Lingchuan gave a helpless shrug. “I’m no expert in this. When Elder Liang gets back, ask him.”

Village Chief Liang’s spirits perked up.

Right, we have a proper expert in the village now!

He Lingchuan did not spare him another glance. He strode out, whistled the rock wolf over, gathered Shan Youjun and the others, and reached for the reins.

Just then, a handful of fine horses thundered in from beyond the village. Their riders had the bearing of men above the common run. The leader, a man in his early forties wearing a high crown, had narrow eyes and delicate features that resembled Village Chief Liang’s.

They had barely entered the village when villagers flocked to greet them with beaming faces. Some even dropped to their knees, exclaiming, “Immortal on earth!”

A reception like that was worlds apart from the welcome He Lingchuan’s party had received.

Who else could it be?

He Lingchuan immediately thought of the distinguished guest whom his father had entertained, the one who ate and drank on his father’s tab—no, who joined them for a grand meal. And he was spot on, as this was none other than Elder Lian of Cloud-Piercing Pavilion.

At the sight of the riders, Village Chief Liang brightened and strode quickly to meet them. “Fourth Brother, you’re back!”

Elder Liang offered him a small smile, then turned his gaze on He Lingchuan’s group. The two parties regarded each other in silence.

Village Chief Liang made introductions.

He Lingchuan smiled as though the morning’s arm-twisting had never happened. “An honor, Elder Liang. I’ve long heard your name. Did you and Governor-General He enjoy your conversation over lunch?”

Truth be told, while his father occupied Elder Liang at lunch, he had raced out here to pressure the village chief; getting caught at the village gate by the man he had been “working around” was, admittedly, a tad awkward.

However, He Lingchuan was who he was, so no trace of awkwardness reached his face.

Elder Liang nodded his head and smiled.

He Lingchuan waited a few breaths.

No answer, huh?

Father seemed to have forgotten to mention that this honored guest from Cloud-Piercing Pavilion is a mute.

A disciple behind Elder Liang stepped forward and said respectfully, “Apologies. Master practices the Sealed-Mouth Art and seldom speaks. If there’s anything to be said, allow me to answer on his behalf.”

“Ooh,” said He Lingchuan, drawing the sound out, entirely unbothered. “If he can’t speak, he can’t speak. That’s not a problem at all. My business here is done anyway. I’m assuming you brothers have catching up to do, so we’ll be on our way.” He flashed them all a cordial smile, swung into the saddle of his horse just as his men did, and headed for the village outskirts.

Only when their figures vanished down the road did Elder Liang raise both hands and make a small dispersing gesture that all understood. The onlookers melted away at once, not a single one of them daring to linger.

They were more respectful to Elder Liang than to the village head. Everyone knew that much of Shuangyu Village’s swagger came from the Daoist elder who watched over it.

Inside the village chief’s house, Elder Liang signed a few gestures to his older brother.

He had been practicing the Sealed-Mouth Art for twenty years and rarely returned home. Village Chief Liang was not fluent in this sign-talk and had to look to the disciple.

A disciple’s duty was to serve; here, that meant translating. “Master asks if the government sent those men to handle that matter?”

Village Chief Liang’s smile faltered. He sighed and said, “Yes. But don’t get angry. They... made some fair points, so I... I...” He fumbled for words, then, seeing his younger brother’s gaze sharpen, he could only steel himself and say, “I stamped the deeds.”

Elder Liang moved his hands again. The disciple translated, “It’s village business. Your decision stands.”

He came back only once in several years and took no offerings from here. What did the village’s affairs have to do with him? If the elders had not dragged out his banner to wave, and if his brother had not begged him to petition the new governor-general, he would not have waded into muddy water at all.

“Good, good,” said the village chief quickly, forcing a smile. “Then I’ll go speak with the elders.”

He had already planned his story. He would say that compromising with the authorities had been Elder Liang’s suggestion. The other elders would have nothing to say. Even if they had objections, none would dare voice them in front of the Daoist elder.

Watching his older brother’s retreating back, Elder Liang gave a small shake of the head. He knew perfectly well what the village chief was thinking.

“The new officials promised you plenty at the dining table, only to send men into the village behind your back,” the disciple muttered, unable to help himself. “Isn’t that disrespectful?”

Elder Liang signed a few curt shapes.

“On the contrary... it’s respectful?” The disciple blinked. Why is Master not angry? “Your disciple doesn’t understand.”

Elder Liang only smiled and let it be.

* * *

He Lingchuan and his men had gone two or three hundred paces along the mountain road when Township Steward Zhou could not hold back any longer. “Young Master He, that, ah, that Elder Liang... he probably knows now.”

You were fawning over him hard enough just a minute ago, He Lingchuan thought. Aloud, though, he chuckled. “We’re executing public duty. Here, he is merely a commoner. What are you afraid of?”

That was true enough in theory. Reality, however, was another matter. Township Steward Zhou had learned something of the young lord’s temperament by now and did not argue the point. Instead, he asked what had been gnawing at him, “That water ghost in Shuangyu Village, was it really the village chief who killed him?”

“What water ghost?”

“You just said—”

He Lingchuan flicked the whip in a neat flourish. “I made it up to spook him. And you believed it?”

“...” He had indeed believed it.

“When Village Chief Liang and his third daughter-in-law were, ahem, carrying on by the river,” He Lingchuan said in a tone as mild as spring sunlight, “they had more than one audience in that little grove. The man thought that if he drowned the boy in the yellow tunic, the witness would vanish and the trouble with it. But what he didn’t know was that the dead boy’s playmate was hiding in the tall grass about ten meters away, too scared to move. The child saw everything—the affair, and the murder from start to finish. When Village Chief Liao finally left, that little playmate ran home and told his parents the whole story. But as the parents feared the village chief’s power, they naturally told the boy to keep his mouth shut. So in the end, not many knew.”

Township Steward Zhou’s eyes widened. “So that’s the case! But then, how... how did you know?”

“The playmate’s parents are one of the seven families who sold their fields to the staff officer of the agricultural bureau. They were leaving anyway, and the buyer was the government. So they wrote down what the child had witnessed and tucked that statement into the bundle with the deeds,” said He Lingchuan. “They’ve been holding that bile in their throats for years. What better time to spit it out than right then?”

So the villagers have been holding a grudge against the village chief for some time.

The staff officer of the agricultural bureau had seen the paper and sent it up to He Chunhua. After reading it, his father had formed a plan and then set He Lingchuan loose.

Township Steward Zhou could not help but laugh. “Well, it seems that he won’t dare bathe easily from now on.” Now, it was deeply ingrained in Village Chief Liao’s mind that wherever there was water, there might be a water ghost.

“That depends on whether Elder Liang’s divine arts are broad enough to dispel the demon in his heart,” said Young Master He. He had originally intended to gather more proof. In a village like this, with so many eyes, there was no way the village chief’s adultery was perfectly watertight. But Elder Liang had gone straight to the prefectural government office today to plead the village’s case, and Governor-General He had ordered his eldest to resolve the matter at once, so He Lingchuan had been forced to move early.

At the edge of Xin Township, Township Steward Zhou clutched the precious deeds to his chest and took his leave.

Young Master He’s methods were... unconventional.

He’s not one to stick at trifles.

* * *

By the time He Lingchuan returned to Dunyu, the sun was already descending to the west.

He had scarcely stepped through the gate when Old Steward Mo guided him to the reception hall. A new guest had arrived, one important enough that even He Chunhua and Madame Ying were receiving her personally.

And of course, it was none other than the master of Songyang Mansion, Li Qingge.

A small pile of nutshells sat on the table; by the looks of it, the Marquis of Songyang had been waiting for some time.

He Lingchuan halted, startled, then pointed a dramatic finger at his father. “My apologies, Marquis of Songyang, Governor-General He sent me out at the last minute to handle a task!”

He and Li Qingge had arranged for her to visit today to inspect his broken saber. In fact, this appointment had already been postponed twice because Songyang Mansion was swamped with affairs. Then He Chunhua had saddled his eldest with an urgent assignment, and the son had taken off with ape, wolf, and men in tow—forgetting, in the scramble, to inform Li Qingge that he would have to postpone their appointment yet again.

She had arrived as promised to an empty courtyard and, in the end, had spent the afternoon chatting with He Chunhua.

As for why Madame Ying was present as well, He Lingchuan did not need to think twice to know.

“Truly my good son,” He Chunhua said with a half-laugh, half-scolding tone. First chance he gets, he throws his father to the wolves.

Li Qingge smiled, not the least bit put out. “It doesn’t matter. Young Master He had official business to attend to. Governor-General He and I have already discussed several matters to our mutual satisfaction.”

He Chunhua explained, “The Xia Provincial Office will hire seven disciples from Songyang Mansion for posts in both the civil and military offices.”

Li Qingge nodded. “We can’t let the Cloud-Piercing Pavilion take the lead.”

He Chunhua turned to his son and asked, “How did things go in Shuangyu Village?”

“All settled. The village seal is on the deeds, and Township Steward Zhou went home grinning ear to ear.” He Lingchuan grinned as well. “I ran into a man at the village gate. He had a high hat and eyes on the sky. Was that Elder Liang?”

“I had lunch with him, and then he returned to Shuangyu Village,” said He Chunhua, sipping tea. “He came representing the Cloud-Piercing Pavilion to pay his respects, as well as to recommend a dozen or so outstanding disciples.”

In other words, they were showing the flag and making nice with the new administration.

But why send someone who can’t speak?

Still, the Cloud-Piercing Pavilion was well-known in the north, and He Chunhua was new in office. Whatever the internal calculations, he had to give Elder Liang his due. To He Lingchuan, the relationship between Daoist sects and the government had always felt somewhat akin to that between universities and the state. The sects trained talented individuals, and many of these talents aimed at official careers.

Both sides needed each other. So his father was courteous to both Elder Liang and the Marquis of Songyang, every nicety observed.

He Lingchuan glanced at Li Qingge. She was so young that one easily forgot she was the master of a sect, standing shoulder to shoulder with the Cloud-Piercing Pavilion’s pavilion master.

“By the way, with Sun Fuping executed, the post of state preceptor is vacant.” Li Qingge’s eyes flicked between father and son. “I hear from the capital that a shortlist has been drawn up, on which there are three names. I only hope that this time, my king chooses a worthy state preceptor.”

He Chunhua’s look sharpened slightly. “News travels quickly to the Marquis. Among the candidates, whom do you favor?”

“They’re all remarkable in their own ways, and each commands a network,” Li Qingge said thoughtfully. “Relatively speaking, I favor Fan Ke and Yan Lixin. The final appointment will likely be between those two.”

“Our realm had three state preceptors. Even with Sun Fuping gone, two remain,” said He Chunhua with a wry smile. “The capital is a hundred times more complicated than Dunyu. Whoever climbs to that position will need both strength and power in equal measure.”