Where Immortals Once Walked

Madame Ying followed the same ritual as her husband.

Then it was He Lingchuan’s turn.

He Chunhua stood at the front, face somber, voice weighty as stone. “Kowtow to your great-grandfather.”

“Kowtow to your grandfather.”

“Kowtow to your grandmother.”

“Kowtow to your second granduncle.”

* * *

Name after name, generation after generation.

By the time He Lingchuan finished all thirty-six kowtows, his head was spinning a little. The last one had been for his ninth uncle, who was his father’s youngest brother, only six years old when he had been sentenced to death by waist-chopping and left displayed in public.

One hundred and twenty-seven members of the He Family’s main branch—from elderly men in their eighties to that six-year-old child—none had escaped. Only He Chunhua had lived.

Then came He Yue’s turn.

The brothers brushed shoulders as they passed each other. As they crossed, He Lingchuan silently mouthed at him, exaggerating every syllable, “Go easy!”

Even with his own thick skin, his forehead was flushed and swollen from the thirty-six strikes. He Yue, with his finer features and tender skin, did not fare so well. In previous years, Old Steward Mo had always had to apply medicine to his forehead afterward.

He Yue’s eyes flicked toward him, but his face did not change.

When he knelt and began to kowtow, the sound of his forehead hitting the mat was no lighter than his older brother’s.

As He Chunhua watched, his gaze went slightly out of focus, as if his attention had slipped through the wall and into some other time altogether.

From the side, watching his father’s expression, He Lingchuan suddenly felt that the man’s blank stare held something almost feral in it, an edge of twisted ferocity.

No matter how calm and mild his exterior, the hatred and unwillingness buried in this man’s heart had never faded, not even by a fraction.

When He Yue finally finished his thirty-sixth kowtow, he stayed crouched for quite a while before he could stand and step forward to offer incense.

Just as expected, blood trickled down from his forehead again, running in a thin line toward the bridge of his nose.

“Good. The He Family has survived its great calamity. It’s time we seized our chance for rebirth.” He Chunhua drew a long breath, as though exhaling a mountain of weight. “What have I always taught you? To clear the He Family’s injustice and restore our household’s honor—”

The He brothers exchanged a glance, then spoke in unison, “We will gladly shatter our bodies and die ten thousand deaths if that’s what it takes!”

The man who had framed the He Family was long dead, but the He Family still bore the brand of “accomplices” to the grave. Out of respect for the royal family’s lofty dignity, no one had dared overturn that verdict. The stain remained on the record, unresolved to this day.

For twenty years, the injustice had sat like a stone on He Chunhua’s chest. He had never dared forget it.

“Good. You’re good children.” His face grew taut with emotion. His eyes drifted half-shut, and at the corners there seemed to shine the faintest glimmer of moisture. “Remember what you swore tonight. Live it.”

Of course, the brothers answered, “Yes.”

Old Steward Mo already had a jar of salve ready. With brisk, practiced hands, he cleaned the blood from He Yue’s forehead and smeared the cooling salve over the split skin.

Once the incense had burned down, the family gathered to burn paper money, sending it up in drifting embers to their ancestors.

Their first ancestral rite in this new land was almost at its end.

He Lingchuan reminded himself again that tonight he had to be mindful of his tongue and his behavior—no boisterous laughter, no drinking, no running off to find amusement. It would all be a bad look.

Perhaps the ritual had soothed his father, because the pressure around He Chunhua had lightened. The storm clouds that seemed to hang over him earlier constantly were now nowhere to be seen. He patted both sons on the shoulder and said warmly, “That’s enough. You must all be hungry. Let’s eat.”

On the day of the family sacrifice, they ate a vegetarian meal.

Even so, the atmosphere at the dinner table had grown gentle and relaxed. Madame Ying was in a particularly good mood. She said to her two sons, “I’ll have the tailor come tomorrow to take your measurements. You each need at least three new sets of clothes.” They had both grown, and their old robes no longer fit properly. “And in a bit more than ten days, it’ll be the Shangsi Festival.” She glanced at them knowingly. The temple fair on the western side of the city will open. Young men and women from all over will go.”

The brothers both answered with an absentminded “Oh.”

After a few bites, He Chunhua set his chopsticks down and laid two letters side by side on the table.

“These are both from Minister Li. The first one arrived five days ago, the second this morning. Yue’er has already read them. Chuan’er, you take a look.”

The Li Family’s mighty backer had finally written to Xia Province’s new governor-general.

With the humiliations the Li Family had suffered under his hand, it would have been stranger if they had not run crying to Minister Li.

He Lingchuan knew that one of the reasons his father had not gone all-out in Dunyu was the need to sound out Minister Li’s reaction.

After all, the man held a high rank and enjoyed the ruler’s ear.

But looking at how relaxed his father seemed, He Lingchuan guessed that Minister Li’s attitude could not be that bad.

The first letter ran on for several hundred characters. Its gist was that the younger generation of the Li Family was useless and foolish. They had actually dared to pick a fight with the Zhan Family without proof or reason. Governor-General He had done well to discipline them on his behalf.

However, Li Zhao had only recently passed away. His family had been grieving themselves half-mad. In their grief, they had lost control of their tongues and tempers, committing grave mistakes. Was that not, perhaps, somewhat understandable?

Then Minister Li moved briskly on to the next topic: at the court debate, he had coordinated with the other ministries and successfully raised about one and a half million kilograms of grain to be sent to the northern front.

He Chunhua supplied the specifics. “Going by the timing, that batch of supplies should arrive in Dunyu within two days at most. They’ll rest here briefly, then head to the front.”

“The wording is very cautious.” He Lingchuan gave the letter a little shake and said with deliberate drama, “I thought Minister Li would throw his weight around and order you to release Li Rong.”

“He wouldn’t dare.” He Chunhua snorted. “A current local official holds more sway than a distant minister. Xia Province is my domain now. It’s also one of the two fronts the royal court is watching most closely. If he dares to abuse his influence at a time like this, I can always send his letter straight to the capital and let the King read it himself. Right now, he has to be polite. He can’t afford to let me catch even a scrap of leverage.”

To say Xia Province was “under the watchful eyes of all” was putting it kindly. In truth, the place was practically a mud pit. They were already tearing their hair out trying to sustain two separate fronts. If he tossed in the towel here and walked away, who else could pick up the mess?

Would Minister Li dare pound his chest and swear he could recommend a new governor-general who would do better than He Chunhua?

Under these conditions, He Chunhua had no reason to fear him.

He Yue added, “The western front is crying for grain, too. General Ke has already gone all the way to the capital begging for supplies. For Minister Li to scrape together one and a half million kilograms for the northern front right now is his way of showing goodwill to Father, asking him to spare the Li Family a little.”

He Lingchuan clicked his tongue. “Heh, that old fox. So he can get grain when he wants to.” Rations were a soldier’s lifeline. “One and a half million kilograms will feed General Zhao Pan’s army for at least a month.”

It was a hefty gift, no matter how you looked at it.

The galling part was that they would still have to pass it on northward to Zhao Pan.

“By the time it reaches here, it won’t still be one and a half million kilograms,” He Chunhua said, shaking his head. “Still, it’s better than nothing.”

He Lingchuan picked up the second letter and skimmed it, barely managing to keep a straight face.

“This one came after the news of our two victories reached the capital, didn’t it?” Judging from the dates, it lined up perfectly. “This Minister Li certainly knows how to bend.”

He Chunhua’s eyes held a glint of amusement. “He does.”

The tone of the second letter was far warmer and more effusive than the first.

First, it congratulated the new governor-general on winning his opening battles. Then, it urged him to keep up the effort for the sake of Great Yuan. After that came the righteous declaration that the younger Li men who had broken the law must be punished harshly. Governor-General He, he insisted, need not show him any face.

The real flourish came at the very end. Minister Li wrote that after the rebel Sun Fuping’s execution, he himself had recommended the meritorious He Chunhua to His Majesty as the new Governor-General of Xia Province. Seeing today’s success, he was comforted. Clearly, his recommendation had been a boon to the people of Great Yuan.

“So that’s that. He’s scooped up all the credit in one go. So you were his recommendation, Father?”

“It wasn’t that simple. He was one of several people pushing for it.” He Chunhua shook his head. “Grabbing credit for themselves is just routine for them.”

Something stirred in He Lingchuan’s chest. So his father knew the ins and outs of that appointment process very well. That meant he had people in court.

Of course he did. His father had always been frighteningly adept at social maneuvering.

“What will you do with Li Zhi and Li Rong? How will you sentence them?”

“As they deserve to be sentenced, nothing more, nothing less.” He Chunhua replied flatly. “It seems that Little Sixth Li and Minister Li had already come to an understanding.”

Li Zhao’s two sons were finished. Minister Li was probably already thinking of cutting off the rotten limb to save the tree, kicking those two useless, scheming good-for-nothings out, and raising the third-generation boy, Li Shuang, to manage the family in their stead.

Seen from the big picture, that would indeed be better for the Li Family.

“The supplies from the royal court can’t sit here. They need to be sent to the north as soon as possible.” He Chunhua turned to his eldest and said, “Chuan’er, come with me on this trip.”

He Lingchuan was stunned. “You’re escorting the grain in person?”

“Yes. I also want to use the opportunity to inspect conditions in Xia Province and meet General Zhao Pan.” Xia Province was Zhao Pan’s rear line and supply route. As the new governor-general, he had to meet the man face to face if they were going to work together. “Besides, Zhao Qinghe tells me that Xun Province’s mounted scouts are still roaming through central Xia Province. We might find an opportunity to train the troops on the way.”

After dinner, everyone retired to their rooms, while He Chunhua went straight to his study.

Old Steward Mo soon arrived with a visitor. “Master, someone from the capital has come.” With that, he stepped back outside to stand guard and closed the door behind them.

The newcomer was covered in travel dust. He looked more like an aging farmer than a messenger. From his breast, he produced a folded letter and a brocade pouch and presented them with both hands. “Today is the He Family’s day of memorial ceremony. My master ordered me to reach Dunyu before this day ended, to offer this token of his regard.”

“You’ve had a hard journey.” He Chunhua accepted the letter, broke the wax seal, and then unfolded it to read.

The signature at the end read: Yan Lixin.

He ran through the contents, and the heaviness on his face eased a fraction. A small smile tugged at his lips. “It seems that the seat of state preceptor will almost definitely fall in Mr. Yan’s hands.”

The Marquis of Songyang had once discussed with him the battle over the vacant state preceptor position after Sun Fuping’s death. Little had she known that Governor-General He was already in contact with one of the frontrunners.

The trip to Shihuan had not been in vain.

Politics was the greatest gamble of them all. Choose the right side, and you could profit from it for life.

“My master is deeply grateful for your vigorous support.”

* * *

Hong Chenglue knew that with three constables dead on his property, he would soon be a wanted man across the land.

Because of that, he did not dare so much as lift the carriage curtain while leaving. He kept his head down, not wanting any townsfolk to spot him. Bailu Town was small. Neighbors knew one another’s faces; a single glance might be enough to give him away.

He had no idea how Wu Qing and his people had arranged matters, or perhaps the bodies in his yard had simply not been discovered yet. Whatever the reason, their convoy rolled through the town gate without obstruction. No one stopped them to search, no one even looked twice.

The farther north they went, the sparser the traffic became. Riders and carts thinned until the broad road felt half-empty.

After about two kilometers, they came upon an open-sided shelter by the roadside.

Such shelters were usually built by a well or a riverside. Travelers could get hot water there, sometimes even tea. Exhausted horses could drink at the trough. Of course, none of it was free.

At the moment, aside from the attendant pouring water, only three men occupied the shelter.

Just as Wu Qing’s convoy pulled in, those three mounted their horses and rode off.

“Fill the skins, quick. We’re going to catch up to those three,” Hong Chenglue suddenly urged from inside the carriage.

Wu Qing nodded, hopped down, and filled two waterskins with hot water. Then he climbed back up and told the driver to move. The carriage rolled out, trailing the three riders at a measured distance, never too close, never too far.

They went on another kilometer. By then, no one else was on the road.

At that point, Hong Chenglue got down from the carriage and untied a horse from the back. He swung into the saddle and nudged the animal into a trot.

Up ahead, the three men were discussing the pursuit of fugitives. When they heard hoofbeats pounding up behind them, they turned their heads.

The leader was exactly who Hong Chenglue had expected. It was the same patrol officer who had presided over the execution of the three grain-thieving youths in town. His surname was Chen.