Where Immortals Once Walked

As soon as the door opened, Fu Jiu slipped inside and found four people in the room. Three of the four stood watchfully on guard, while only one sat by the window. The one sitting by the window was a youth with delicate features and clear brows, faintly resembling Fushan Yue around the eyes.

The youth frowned the moment he saw Fu Jiu. “You came now? It’s not safe.”

Fu Jiu dropped to his knees. “Young Master Ji, the matter’s been handled.”

Young Master Ji froze, then shot to his feet. His voice jumped an octave as he asked, “What did you just say?”

Fu Jiu reached into his storage ring and produced the wooden statue, setting it squarely in the middle of the room.

Young Master Ji hurried forward to examine it, barking orders as he went, “Lights! Light more lamps! Now!”

One lamp after another flared to life. Young Master Ji stared at the carving without blinking. “Tell me everything. From start to finish.”

Fu Jiu obediently recounted everything.

But when he reached the last few lines of his account, Young Master Ji cut him off sharply, “Wait, you didn’t personally see my older brother turn into a wooden statue?”

“...Yes, I didn’t,” Fu Jiu admitted, his heart lurching. “However, the statue’s features are identical to the young master’s down to the clothing, the ring—”

“Extinguish the lamps!” Young Master Ji did not listen to Fu Jiu’s defense. He snapped at the men beside him, “Leave immediately!”

A guard moved at once and clapped twice by the window.

Their neighbor was one of their people. A series of two claps was the signal to evacuate immediately.

But after the claps, there was only silence.

The neighbor’s door remained shut. There were no footsteps, no movement, nor even a shadow moving by the entryway.

Young Master Ji made the call instantly. “Go!”

They had only just cracked the front door open when they saw six or seven men standing in the dark outside. These seven men stood silently and motionlessly, yet cold viciousness unmistakably gleamed in their eyes.

These seven men all belonged to Fushan Yue.

“It’s already rather deep into the night. Where do you think you’re going, Second Brother?” said someone behind them.

Young Master Ji spun around. And there, sitting by the window in the exact seat Young Master Ji had occupied just moments earlier—posture even arranged the same way—was Fushan Yue himself. His tone was casual, almost intimate, as he said, “Long time no see, how about we catch up?”

Moonlight slanted through the window. It washed the left side of his face pale white, while the right half remained completely swallowed by darkness.

Fu Jiu’s face went white the moment he saw him.

Fushan Yue’s gaze drifted to Fu Jiu, and he smiled faintly. “Excellent work, Fu Jiu.”

The guards behind Young Master Ji immediately shot Fu Jiu looks of naked fury.

Fu Jiu dropped to his knees with a heavy thump. “Young Master, I—”

He did not finish.

A thin red line appeared across his throat.

Only after his body slowly toppled did Fushan Yue flick the blood off his fingertips. Whatever “reasons” a traitor might have, he could not be bothered to listen.

“Truly not a bad scheme. You almost got me,” Fushan Yue said, turning back to Young Master Ji. He pinched his fingers close together, indicating just a hair. Then his smile sharpened as he said, “When you made this plan, did Father know?”

As Fushan Yue said that, his irises slowly but steadily reddened.

Young Master Ji’s fingers trembled. “Even if I die, Father will never pass the position to you!”

“Why don’t we wait and see?” Fushan Yue smiled. “Oh, right, you won’t get the chance to.”

Young Master Ji’s eyes reddened instantly. “I was wrong! We share the same mother, we’re brothers! For Mother’s sake... Uncle Da!”

His palms slammed into the backs of the guards beside him. He shoved them toward Fushan Yue, then threw something to the ground and immediately burst through the door, fleeing.

He had barely hit the ground and scrambled upright when an enormous explosion detonated behind him. A rolling shockwave surged outward as the house exploded.

It was a contingency that he had prepared. He had not expected that he would have to use it, but it was a good thing that he had made preparations.

The blast hurled him several meters forward. Fushan Yue’s men were flung back as well, scattered before they could regroup. The charge had been generously packed.

Young Master Ji staggered up, patted dust off his trousers, and looked back at the shattered, splintered wreck of the house.

But then, a dark figure suddenly plunged out of the sky and slammed down beside him, kicking up charred dirt in all directions.

Young Master Ji jumped in terror. But when he looked, it turned out to be merely Fushan Yue’s wooden statue.

It was on fire now, burning merrily, yet those dead fish-eyes were fixed on him with a vicious, hateful stare. Young Master Ji shivered instinctively.

Another rush of air sounded behind him. He held his breath, drew up his qi, and whipped around. When he saw who it was, he let out a shaky breath of relief. “Uncle Da. You’re here!”

* * *

“This... this is ridiculous,” He Lingchuan muttered, rubbing his eyes as if that might fix what he was seeing.

He was standing on Panlong City’s South Gate Square.

This broad plaza, one that he had crossed dozens of times, had abruptly changed overnight.

Above the great spring pool, right by the first bridge, a tree had appeared.

Strictly speaking, it was a small tree, a little over a person’s height.

He Lingchuan distinctly remembered that the last time he had entered the dream, that spot had been occupied by a fixed stall selling yellow millet cakes[1] and soy milk. The auntie running it always praised his looks and, every time, enthusiastically sliced him an extra half-piece. She had never given up on trying to introduce her daughter to him.

But now, there was a tree.

The South Gate Square had plenty of trees, and trying to find shade here in summer was far from hard, but the reason that He Lingchuan was so fixated on this one was simple: it looked painfully familiar.

Those leaves. Those branches. Those few sparse, whisker-thin aerial roots...

That’s a damn juluo tree!

It was laughably small compared to the Baoshu King, but a juluo tree was still a juluo tree.

The divine bone amulet had swallowed the spirit seed He Lingchuan had provided. He had assumed that the power in that seed would be absorbed by the Generous Pot, just like every other treasure it had eaten.

But the spirit seed was an exception.

Not only had it not been consumed, but it had actually ended up getting planted here inside Panlong City.

He had only been away from the dreamscape for a few days, yet the seed had already grown into a sapling. This completely went against the laws of nature.

Then again, the Baoshu King’s tree sentinels scattered across the kingdom were also grown from spirit seeds that matured in mere days.

The fact that He Lingchuan spawned directly here the moment he entered Panlong City made it obvious that the dreamscape wanted him to see this tree first.

The Generous Pot did not act without purpose.

Two children were playing with a ball beneath the tree. He Lingchuan walked over and asked them, “When was this tree planted?”

They stared at him and shook their heads, clearly confused.

So He Lingchuan went to a nearby shop and asked the middle-aged man selling sundries, “Who planted that tree?”

“Huh?”

“That sapling.” He Lingchuan pointed. “When was it planted?”

“Oh... no idea.” The man looked baffled. “Hasn’t it always been there?”

“Always, as in how long?” He Lingchuan pressed. “There has to be a limit. You can’t mean since the beginning of time.”

The man tried hard to think, then shook his head again. “How would I remember? It’s just a tree.” There were so many trees in the square; was he supposed to remember the age of every single one, or who planted each one?

What kind of joke was that?

With no answers to be had, He Lingchuan returned to the sapling and patted its trunk.

It looked no different from an ordinary little tree. It was hard to imagine it ever growing into something as towering and magnificent as the Baoshu King. But then again, could a spirit seed in the Panlong Dreamscape also grow into a tree sentinel?

He recalled the juluo tree’s special traits, and suddenly understood why the Generous Pot had been able to transplant the spirit seed at all.

The juluo tree had always possessed an ability to adapt to the firmament.

The heart-protecting mirror called Panlong City the City of the Dead. A juluo tree growing in the City of the Dead, it really did not feel all that out of place.

Of course, there might be deeper reasons as to how and why it had been planted here, but there was no one He Lingchuan could ask.

So he simply patted the trunk again and said, “Good luck.”

In Panlong City, what kind of nutrients would a juluo tree even draw from?

Doing the math, today seemed to be his turn to defend Arena Seven.

If he did not go soon, he would lose the title of Arena Master.

On his way, he passed the storefront he had rented out, Spirit-Nurturing Isle. The plump shopkeeper, Bai Guo, was talking business at the door. When he looked up and saw He Lingchuan, his eyes lit up, and he immediately hurried over.

“Little Brother He! You’re finally here!”

He Lingchuan saw that nimble trot completely at odds with Bai Guo’s body shape, and immediately felt an urge to flee. “I’m not here to buy anything.”

This profiteer was always trying to push magical artifacts on him so he could earn back the rent in other ways. He Lingchuan had been swindled twice already, only to slap his forehead afterward and wonder what the hell he had bought that junk for, as if he actually had any use for it.

“Ah, today there’s nothing good,” Bai Guo said with an awkward chuckle. “West Ji’s border is acting up again, and several shipments got seized over there and can’t make it through... Tsk, those bastards will get what’s coming to them sooner or later.” Then he leaned in, a smile pasted on his face. “Brother He, it’s not about goods. I’ve got something to discuss.”

If this man was admitting he had no good stock, then the matter must be serious.

He Lingchuan turned to leave at once. “I’m busy too. Maybe another day.”

Bai Guo shoved something into his hand. It was a delicate little bamboo tube. “Wait, wait!”

He Lingchuan glanced down and saw that he had just received some chewing tobacco.

And it was not just any chewing tobacco; it was Beijia-made. He could identify brands now, and this one was clearly from the Baoshu Kingdom.

Bai Guo seized the opening and tugged him into the shop.

“I really must make a request!” With no one in the back room today, Bai Guo stopped dancing around it. “Business hasn’t been great lately...”

He Lingchuan flicked his sleeve. “If this is about lowering rent, don’t even start.”

“N-no, no.” Bai Guo’s smile froze in place. “I want to tell you, um... Can you... Um...”

“Um?” It was rare to see this slick merchant stutter. Whatever this was, it was big.

Bai Guo sighed and said it outright, “I want to terminate the lease. I’m giving you advance notice.”

He Lingchuan blinked. “Why? Your place is always packed. People in and out, bustling all day.” I haven’t even raised your rent. You should be grateful.

Besides, storefronts on Wanglin Avenue were not something you could rent on a whim. You had to queue for a spot here.

“Aiyah, to tell you the truth, I got news,” Bai Guo said. He sighed first, but the corners of his mouth still could not help but creep up. “Good news, huge news, even. We, we might be able to go home.”

“Hm?” He Lingchuan did not understand for a moment. “Go home where?”

“West Luo!” Bai Guo beamed, his face looking even rounder when he smiled. “Back to our motherland.”

He Lingchuan’s head buzzed.

Panlong Wasteland was an enclave. They had been cut off from the motherland for years.

“How?”

“It’s like this.” Bai Guo lowered his voice as noise drifted in from the front. “I have a reliable source. They say the monarch is considering relocating everyone in the Panlong Wasteland back. Once a resettlement decree comes down, we can return!”

“That doesn’t make sense,” He Lingchuan said flatly. He felt no joy at all. “There’s no road back. It’s called an enclave because it’s boxed in on all sides.”

“There is, there is!” Bai Guo insisted. “I heard Baling will temporarily open the Jinxi Corridor so we can move back as a whole.”

He Lingchuan gave a cold little laugh. “You believe anything the State of Baling says?”

“Normally, I wouldn’t, but the news this time seems very credible. It’s highly likely to really happen.” Bai Guo rubbed his hands, grinning. “I’ll even add three months’ rent on top, and I’ll go to the government office to withdraw the lease properly. All you have to do is agree. How about it?”

“And if I don’t?”

“If you don’t, then once the resettlement decree drops, the entire city will have to leave sooner or later anyway.” Bai Guo’s smile thinned, but he forced it to stay. “And by then, you won’t be collecting rent either.”

1. This is a traditional, chewy, and slightly sweet steamed snack, particularly popular during the Spring Festival in Fujian and Zhejiang, China, and it’s delicious :) ☜