Where Immortals Once Walked

Chapter 275: Hong Chenglue’s Conclusions

For all that the old woman’s house looked like a garbage heap, her memory was terrifyingly sharp. She knew exactly which piece of junk was stuffed into which nook or cranny.

It did not take long for her to unearth the black-and-white jars. There were eight of them.

He Lingchuan carefully pried each one open and checked the contents. Satisfied, he broke into a relaxed smile. “Excellent. No damp.” He then swept them all into his storage ring.

In moments like this, the advantages of spatial storage truly shone.

Shan Youjun produced a silver ingot and handed it to the old man. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Northwest of Bailu Town lay an abandoned mine.

It had been a poor ore vein to begin with, small in scale, with only a little over a decade of active digging. The mine shaft itself had long since flooded and turned into a green, shimmering pool where fish darted in the depths. As for the shacks where miners once lived, they had found new occupants.

A whole band of warhorses grazed in the surrounding woods, while sentries kept watch around the pit. Inside the dilapidated huts, army medics were busy trying to save Baili Qing’s life.

After losing his arm to He Lingchuan’s blade, he had still stubbornly commanded the fight and the retreat. By the time reinforcements dragged him back, he had lost so much blood that he drifted on the edge of consciousness.

Deputy Commandant Xu Yingxian, whom Hong Chenglue had sent to reinforce Xinhuang, was now making his report. Their men had crossed the river to shake off the “tail” that had been dogging them.

The other three officers stood in the room as well. One of them, named Tao Ze, turned to Hong Chenglue with a frown. “General, what’s our next move?”

Hong Chenglue’s face was grim.

His roving cavalry had never been numerous to begin with, and he had divided them into two forces to take a gamble on surprise attacks. He had personally led the raid on Bailu Town, which had been successful, but the one on Xinhuang Town had ended in failure, resulting in the loss of two hundred men.

For Xun Province’s roving cavalry that was operating behind enemy lines, it was a grievous loss.

Worse still, they had far too many wounded and nowhere near enough medicine or medics. Of the men Baili Qing had brought back, two gravely injured soldiers had just died moments ago.

“What next? Naturally, we strike while Xia Province’s morale is still in chaos and burn the remaining half of their grain. Let Zhao Pan’s troops drink the northwest wind!” One officer slapped his thigh. “Who would’ve thought the Governor-General of Xia Province would come in person? When cutting a snake, cut its head; when capturing bandits, first capture their chief!”

“Exactly! If we can take the Governor-General of Xia Province’s head, the entirety of northern Yuan will be thrown into turmoil. Grand General Zhao Pan’s army might even collapse without a proper fight! General Hong, you’ll be leading us to a great victory!”

Even though Baili Qing was still unconscious, his personal guards had already reported everything about the ambush at Xinhuang Town.

Tao Ze promptly threw cold water over his comrades. “We just lost two hundred men. With the handful we have left, do you really think we can kill the Governor-General of Xia Province? Xinhuang Town was the trap General Baili laid, and he still returned badly wounded in defeat. How do you two compare to him?”

The two officers choked, though their faces still looked unconvinced. “We still have General Hong, don’t we?”

Can a no-name governor-general of Xia Province really stand against the legendary General Hong?

“Quiet.” Hong Chenglue noticed that even in his coma, Baili Qing’s brow had furrowed at their shouting, so he hushed them. “The Governor-General of Xia Province survived the blast. I don’t know if that was luck or caution.”

This trap had been his design from start to finish, yet He Chunhua had slipped past it.

“The ones who died in the restaurant were his men. That suggests this He fellow might not have publicly shown his face.”

Otherwise, for a perfectly normal social occasion, what reason would He Chunhua have had not to accept the invitation to drink and feast with a county magistrate?

The officers were puzzled. “A provincial governor, sneaking north with a grain convoy? Is that really something a man of his post would do?”

“This man has some skill. Since taking office in Xia Province, he’s been making quite a wave. I’ve heard he has the Four Great Families of Dunyu dancing in the palm of his hand. When he asks for money, they hand over money. When he demands grain, they hand over grain. Without that, Zhao Pan would never have been able to fight and win those last two battles.”

During his years as a commoner in Bailu Town, Hong Chenglue had not stopped gathering intelligence, out of sheer habit.

“They say he used to be a minor official on Yuan’s western frontier, then worked his way up by piling military merits. If we don’t understand this man’s nature, the battles to come will be hard to fight.”

Just then, a sentry rushed in from outside.

“Reporting, something’s happening in the sky!”

They stepped out and looked up.

A black dot in the sky was growing rapidly larger, flying straight toward the mine.

Hong Chenglue took a single glance. “Dong Rui is back.”

One of the officers beside him could not resist a snort. “That fellow struts around all day like he’s the greatest under heaven, nose in the air. General Hong sent him to assist General Baili, and what happened? They came back smashed to pieces.”

The giant bird swooped down into the pit, and the officer shut his mouth at once.

Dong Rui slid from its back. His hand was wrapped in bloodstained cloth, and he clutched an ape in his arms. His robe was soaked with gore. The ape’s eyes were closed, and its breath was so weak it seemed to be right at death’s door.

He looked every bit as battered as Baili Qing.

This was the famous wanted criminal whom State Preceptor Shuang Ye had personally pardoned to serve as a guest expert during Xun Province’s cavalry operations. Hong Chenglue still treated him with courtesy and stepped forward at once. “Are your injuries serious? Do you need the medics?”

From the mouths of the men who had escaped Xinhuang, Hong Chenglue had already learned that the ape at Dong Rui’s side could transform into a giant ape, wielding terrifying strength and showing little fear even in the face of whole armies.

One look at that, and Hong Chenglue had understood the true value of this “guest minister.”

“You can’t heal its wounds,” Dong Rui said bluntly, face dark as iron. “The life-saving elixir I brought was stolen. Where’s the ghost-head ginseng you promised? Give it to me, now.”

He spoke without a shred of politeness, but Hong Chenglue let it slide. After a brief hesitation, he turned and went back inside.

He said to the medic tending Baili Qing, “Bring me the ghost-head ginseng we have left.”

The medic was startled, but he quickly recovered and found a jade box among the medicines on the table. Soon after, he handed it over.

Hong Chenglue opened it.

Inside lay half a section of green-skinned “ginseng.” Its top was shaped like a howling ghost’s head, the details carved into its flesh with uncanny realism, every crease and contour vividly etched.

Despite its name, ghost-head ginseng was not actually ginseng. It was a mutated form of wolfsbane whose toxicity shifted with the nourishment it absorbed and the environment around it.

In the box, only its upper half remained, which was everything from the “mouth” upward. The expression no longer looked quite so vicious.

Dong Rui came in, took a single look, and his face twisted. “Half a root? That’s not what we agreed.”

“Lives were at stake. When those men came back from Xinhuang, many were gravely wounded. I authorized the medics to use some to save them,” Hong Chenglue said. He knew he was in the wrong here and kept his tone conciliatory. “Take this half for now. Once we’re back in Xun Province, I’ll apply to our superiors to get you another one.”

“Another one?” Instead of flying into a rage, Dong Rui laughed—a sharp, humorless sound. “Are you joking? Do you have any idea how hard it is to acquire ghost-head ginseng?”

To cultivate ghost-head ginseng, you had to take a wolfsbane that had already gained sentience and plant it into the belly of a powerful monster or a skilled cultivator. The transplant had to happen while both host and plant were alive.

For a wolfsbane to gain sentience meant it had years, perhaps even decades, of growth behind it. But not every aged plant would awaken a spirit. That was the first threshold.

Once it did, the spirit plant could draw nutrients not only from soil but from flesh and blood.

For seven months, it would devour its way through one, possibly two, living “vessels.” Only then would the “ghost head” finally form.

By that time, it held terrifying medicinal power—immense toxicity paired with immense restorative effect. Used properly, it was like combining a powerful stimulant with an ultimate tonic in one dose. It could drag a man back from the very edge of death.

Hong Chenglue said calmly, “Marshal Nian, or Beijia itself, will have a way.”

In the past, Dong Rui would have turned on his heel and left with a flick of the sleeve, refusing to waste another word.

However, the ghost ape’s injuries were too dire. Dong Rui had no time for pride. He snatched the precious root from Hong Chenglue’s hands and chose an empty shack to begin work on the spot.

Ghost-head ginseng could not be taken raw. He had to refine away most of its toxicity first.

Hong Chenglue followed him in. Watching the monster puppet master work—hands moving in smooth, practiced motions, never once fumbling—he realized that Dong Rui’s medical skills might well surpass those of their army medics.

Anyone who refined monster puppet beasts had to deal with flesh, bone, and blood, working with both drugs and blades. It would be stranger if such a person were not knowledgeable and skilled when it came to matters pertaining to the body.

Hong Chenglue asked, “Who did this to the ghost ape?” This was his chance to hear the battle report straight from the source.

“That pair of father and son of the He Family,” Dong Rui said through clenched teeth, not bothering to raise his head to reply. Then he briefly recounted the fight. “I already had an old grudge with them.”

Hong Chenglue’s interest sharpened. “What grudge?”

So Dong Rui outlined the failed ambush in Luming Garden in Shihuan City, then finished with a voice filled with venom, “If not for their interference, Ke Jihai would’ve been dead long ago.”

If Ke Jihai died, that would be one less grand general of Yuan who could hold off against the Minister of War.

Hong Chenglue asked, “You went there specifically to kill Ke Jihai?”

“...And He Chunhua,” Dong Rui replied, shooting him a sidelong glance. “They happened to be in two adjacent carriages. I thought I’d take both at once.”

He had made the classic mistake of trying to swallow too much in a single bite.

“From the sound of it, the father and son both have a fair number of handy magical artifacts, not to mention reliable men by their sides,” Hong Chenglue mused. “Do you know anything else about them?”

“I do. Sun Fuping died by his hand.”

Hong Chenglue’s expression shifted. “What? He killed Yuan’s State Preceptor Sun?”

“Yes. I heard it happened in the Panlong Desert. No one knows the exact details. What’s clear is that Sun Fuping and Nian Zanli’s son, Nian Songyu, lured the He father and son into Panlong Ancient City on a treasure hunt. In the end, they found no treasure, and Sun Fuping and Nian Songyu never came out. The only ones who walked back alive were the He father and son, and this was during the Panlong Desert’s season of mad sand. People say that in that season, nothing living can walk out of that desert.”

Hong Chenglue frowned. “Knowing all this, how could you still underestimate him?”

Dong Rui coughed lightly. “He Chunhua’s cultivation isn’t particularly impressive. I figured a man like that must have relied on sheer luck to take down State Preceptor Sun. I got careless. Oh, and another thing. The former emperor slaughtered his entire family.”

“Which former emperor?” For Hong Chenglue, this sort of information was crucial.

“The father of the current Emperor of Yuan,” Dong Rui said. “He believed slanderous whispers and had the He Family executed to the last. Not even six-year-old children were spared. Only He Chunhua escaped, as he was away from home at the time. The old emperor never went after him again. He simply shunted him off to some small frontier city.”

“If you kill the weeds but leave the roots, it’s usually because you feel guilty,” Hong Chenglue said, laughing softly. “And after that, He Chunhua is still willing to serve Yuan?”

“What else is he going to do?” Dong Rui sounded unimpressed. “Where else could he go?”

Hong Chenglue shook his head. “Yuan has only existed for, what, sixty years? Its people and traditions are nothing like those of an ancient state like Beijia. In Beijia, loyalty to the monarch runs deep. Here? Not so much.”

He fell silent for a moment, sinking into thought before adding, “He Chunhua carries his family’s blood debt on his back yet still works himself to the bone for Yuan. With this being the case, he’s likely a man of deep schemes, someone with a much deeper hunger for wealth, power, and reputation than even typical officials.”