Where Immortals Once Walked

The staircase groaned under the boar’s heavy steps, creaking with the sound of wood about to give way.

This boar even knows how to go upstairs...

Only two breaths later, the tusked boar clambered onto the second floor, snapping several steps under its weight. Its tiny eyes, which were burning with rage, locked onto He Lingchuan the instant he rose.

The diners, the street vendor, and the tavern waiters on the second floor bolted as if their lives depended on it.

He Lingchuan had stepped in to help the hunter, but it was not entirely because he could not stand seeing a monster hurt people in broad daylight, as if he were driven by some righteous urge to stomp down injustice at the mere sight of it.

In actuality, in his eyes, this wild boar was wreathed in black miasma, and several little ghosts were actually sprawled across its head!

Yes, in broad daylight, those little ghosts dared to poke their heads out to glare at him, teeth clenched in hatred, though the sunlight did not strike them directly.

Just now, those two gazelles the hunter had carried were what they wanted. They had egged the tusked boar on to snatch them.

No matter where you were, the appearance of ghostly creatures like this was always suspicious.

The little ghosts pointed at He Lingchuan. The tusked boar dropped its head and charged.

The force of its stomp was so strong that the floorboards snapped downward.

He Lingchuan stepped two paces to the side. The tusked boar was unexpectedly nimble. Its short legs braced outward, and it still barreled straight at him.

However, He Lingchuan could turn even faster. His legs almost brushed along the boar’s body as he spun with it, his right hand sliding naturally to the hilt of Fleeting Life.

Then, a cold flash.

He Lingchuan hopped back.

The tusked boar could not stop in time. It toppled and slid sideways across the floor.

And at the same time, its head separated from its body.

Hot, reeking pig blood splashed everywhere.

The little ghosts and the black miasma clinging to the boar’s body scattered into smoke and vanished without leaving the slightest trace.

A waiter crouched in the corner, shaking as he pointed at the corpse, said, “B-Bao Ya... Sir, you killed Bao Ya!”

“So this thing’s called Bao Ya?” He Lingchuan picked up the severed head and examined it carefully. “No need to thank me.”

Now that he thought about it, after he had thrown those knives earlier, he seemed to have heard someone shout, “Come back!” But the street had been too noisy to catch clearly, and the boar, hurt and furious, had ignored the order and charged him anyway.

“That’s Third Master Gan’s hunting pet!”

Third Master Gan? He Lingchuan was stunned. This ghost-ridden thing had an owner?

Footsteps thundered. A crowd poured through the hall and rushed up to the second floor.

It was the same group that had just ridden down the street in bright clothes and high spirits.

The youth leading them saw the boar’s body and head lying apart. His pupils contracted. He flew into a rage. “How dare you kill my spirit pet!”

“This was your pet?” He Lingchuan tossed the boar’s head at his feet, then took out a handkerchief and calmly wiped the blade’s tip. “You walk your pet without a leash. How was anyone supposed to know that it was yours?”

A guard behind Third Master Gan stepped up right on cue and barked, “Brat, you dare cause trouble in Wuze? Do you even know who you’ve offended?!”

The attendants surged forward and surrounded He Lingchuan in a tight ring.

Whether they fought or not was one thing; pressing someone down with sheer momentum was another. On that point, He Lingchuan had once been quite experienced.

Third Master Gan raised a hand to stop his men. “My Bao Ya is a spirit beast from the Demon Nest Swamp. It’s done great service helping the county deal with monster troubles. I’m not unreasonable; this account will be settled properly.”

“Does cleaning up a few monsters cancel out the crime of killing someone?” He Lingchuan glanced out the window. “Your pet was attacking people. If I hadn’t stepped in, you’d be carrying a human life on your back. How are you going to thank me?”

The hunter staggered up from the ground, searching for his dog. Several wounds on his body were still bleeding; the worst was on his leg, where a round hole had been punched clean through. He had hunted in the mountains and dealt with boars before. Just now, he had braced with all his strength against those tusks, refusing to let them reach his upper body.

However, the dog had not been so lucky. It lay there twitching.

The hunter stroked it a few times. The dog let out two choked whines, then it went completely still.

“Bao Ya’s lived in Wuze for six years. It wouldn’t kill lightly. At most, it would’ve taught him a lesson,” Third Master Gan said, face as cold as frost. “Bao Ya injured him, and for that, I’ll compensate him. You killed my spirit pet. How will you compensate me?”

He Lingchuan asked, as if genuinely curious, “And who are you?”

A guard behind Third Master Gan cut in, offended. “You don’t even recognize our Third Master Gan, and you still dare make trouble in Wuze?”

He Lingchuan nodded. “Gan Laosan of the Gan Family Merchant Guild?”

Third Master Gan lifted his chin.

“A mere merchant household, with not a single official among you, and you still get to swagger about?” When Young Master He had run wild in Heishui City, the backing behind him had at least been the local commandery administrator.

“It’s still more than enough to deal with the likes of you.” Third Master Gan’s face darkened. “Tie him up and drag him to the county yamen.”

His guards answered and moved in to seize him.

So this little dandy wants to hand me over to the authorities, huh? Well, that’s quite law-abiding of him. Of course, whether the county yamen would actually handle things by law is another story entirely.

He Lingchuan struck first, snapping his palm into one guard’s nose. The man dropped, clutching his face and wailing. When he opened his eyes again, what he saw was a wide pig snout looming right at him.

Another guard got pinned by the neck and had his forehead slammed down. With three loud bangs, the guard was forced to perform three neat kowtows against a tabletop.

Naturally, it was a different table from the one he was using.

He Lingchuan’s own dining table still had wine and dishes he had not finished, and he was not about to smash that.

He laughed as he fought. “Then do you know who I am?”

The most annoying part about being a spoiled young master was that, once in a blue moon, you might run into an iron nail. He had learned that lesson well.

If you attacked without first figuring out your opponent’s background, then your experience could only be said to be embarrassingly shallow.

Third Master Gan’s face went green as he was about to retort, but then two household servants suddenly ran up from downstairs, shouting, “Third Master!”

They leaned in and whispered a few words into his ear.

Third Master Gan’s expression changed dramatically. He flung up a hand. “Stop, stop! All of you, stop!”

His guards were delighted to stop.

Third Master Gan shot He Lingchuan a venomous glare and tossed out a line everyone present had been waiting to hear, “Just you wait, brat. I’ll deal with you later!” Then he led his men hurrying back down the stairs.

He Lingchuan went to the window and looked down, watching Third Master Gan swing up onto his horse and gallop back toward home.

Only after the group left in a rush did the waiters dare creep forward to right overturned tables and pick up fallen bowls. One of them whispered urgently to He Lingchuan, “Sir, you should leave quickly. If Third Master Gan comes back, you’ll have a lot of trouble to deal with.”

He Lingchuan pulled his throwing knives from the boar’s body, wiped them clean with care, then stored the boar’s corpse into his storage ring. He returned to his table, sat down, poured himself a cup of wine, and said, “What’s the hurry? I haven’t finished eating.”

Not long after, the proprietor of the tavern came up himself and bowed deeply. “Honored guest, we won’t charge you. Please just leave.”

“So generous?” One of He Lingchuan’s eyebrows rose, and he pointed around. “The shattered bowls and plates, the customers you scared off, you’ll eat those losses yourselves?”

The proprietor hesitated, then decided to be blunt. “Third Master Gan is formidable. Neither you nor we can afford to offend him. For safety’s sake, please go.”

“I’m waiting for someone,” said He Lingchuan as he set two gold ingots on the table with a dull clink. “Don’t panic. If the Gan Family doesn’t pay you at least this much later, these two ingots are yours.”

Seeing how calm he was, the proprietor swallowed a sigh that stuck in his throat. He looked at the gold, then at He Lingchuan, and did not dare say more.

He Lingchuan asked him instead, “That tusked boar, does it always run around the street like that?”

“Third Master Gan always parades it through town,” the proprietor said softly. “It’s hurt people a few times. The Gan Family paid compensation and settled it.”

“Has it ever eaten a person?”

“N-no, at least not that we’ve ever heard of.” The proprietor lowered his voice further. “In the past, it was vicious and couldn’t be taken outside. They say it injured even Gan Family servants. But a few months ago, Third Master Gan tamed it, and it was as though it became an extension of his own arm. After the imperial nectar incident, there were monster disasters along the official roads, and that tusked boar helped the county clear them out. Third Master Gan has bragged about it nonstop, so it’s something that everyone in the county knows.”

“I see. Bring me another pot of wine.”

When the proprietor went back downstairs, he specifically instructed the staff to clear out all the nearby tables and chairs.

* * *

The eyeball spider stayed snug in Steward Zhao’s waistband, taking a ride on him all the way back to the Gan Family’s grand residence.

The He Family had always had taste. He Lingchuan had lived there so long that he had stopped noticing. But compared with the Gan Residence, the He Residence truly was refined everywhere—delicate, elegant, quietly luxurious without screaming for attention. It showed Madame Ying’s level.

In simple terms, it was a subtle show-off.

The Gan Family’s buildings, furniture, and decorations were a different story. Everything was resplendent and over-the-top. Even the massive pillars were gilded, as if they were afraid that others would not know they were rich. In the garden, even the crabapples were forced into a dense sea of blossoms. Everywhere you looked, it shouted a single idea of fullness, completeness, and prosperity.

It was like a long scroll painting, every inch painted in heavy ink with bold colors, with no light wash, no empty space, no restraint. When finished, it became a smoky mess—loud, crowded, and strangely ugly.

Now this truly palatial residence was shrouded in gloom. Even the servants wore dazed, anxious expressions.

The pillar holding up this household had just collapsed.

The moment Steward Zhao returned to the Gan Residence, one of Old Madame Mao’s attendants grabbed him. “Where did you go just now? The old madame woke up, and then fainted again from crying!”

“Has the physician left?” Steward Zhao asked at once. Earlier, when he had reported the bad news, Old Madame Mao had gone stiff for a heartbeat, then screamed, “My son!” and tried to smash herself into a pillar so fast that no one could stop her.

However, she had not been hurt as she had fainted before she reached it. One step more, and she would have hit her head square on the pillar.

“Not yet. When she collapsed again, the physician wrote another prescription.”

After that, a flood of petty chores crashed down on him. The former chief steward, An Xing, had died with Master Gan, and the old madame lay unconscious in bed. He was the only person who seemed able to give orders.

Steward Zhao was exhausted, but the feeling of directing people, of issuing instructions, and making the mansion move was unexpectedly good.

If the Gan Family doesn’t appoint Luo Xunyi as chief steward, and instead...

Before his thoughts could drift too far, the door to the old madame’s room opened, and Second Master Gan came out, eyes red and swollen.

“Second Master, please restrain your grief.”

Second Master Gan gave a muffled “Mm,” and told a servant to fetch water.

He had cried plenty himself. First, at the news of his elder brother’s death, then again, seeing his mother unconscious.

Steward Zhao hurried forward to ask, “Second Master, where should we set up the mourning hall? White Deer Hall, or in front of the ancestral shrine?”

“White Deer Hall,” Second Master Gan said, then hesitated. “No, in front of the ancestral shrine.”

“Understood.”

“Wait, let me think... Just do it at White Deer Hall. I need to hurry and paint a portrait of my elder brother, to be displayed in the hall for people to pay respects.”

Steward Zhao asked again, “The master died in a foreign place. By custom, we should hold a soul-settling rite. Which expert should we invite?”

“...”

After much back-and-forth, they finally settled these matters. Then Steward Zhao spoke carefully and hesitantly, “Also, this time the caravan brought back a person from the Demon Nest Swamp. He received the Spider Queen’s commission and needs to—”

He had not finished when Second Master Gan grew impatient and lifted a hand to cut him off. “Why bring up outsiders at a time like this?”