Where Immortals Once Walked

Chapter 472: Wan Song and the Self-Heal Herbs

Jiao Yu’s tail flicked. “Touring commissioner has been an empty title for a long time now.”

General Ling froze mid-step. “He represents Lingxu City, so does this mean that Lingxu City knows my kin have been murdered for the extraction of these beads?”

Even as they ran hard through the night, it did not stop the monsters from talking. Jiao Yu shook its head. “Lingxu City’s power structure is tangled and deep-rooted. You can’t wrap it up in a single sentence.”

He Lingchuan added, “And that gives us a paradox. Zhongsun Mou says the monster emperor—ah, the Lord Emperor—believes foreign agents killed the eastern imperial eagle courier. That’s why he sent Zhongsun Mou down to investigate, yet he’s also clearly aware of this whole business of killing monsters to harvest the beads.”

He Lingchuan sighed and said, “The water is deep. This isn’t going to be simple.”

He could smell conspiracy the way one smelled smoke before seeing flame.

Jiao Yu could not help but add, half-amused, half-exasperated, “If Zhongsun Mou knew that one little line he failed to follow up on let you spin out this much analysis, he’d regret it until his intestines turned green.”

He Lingchuan laughed softly. “I’m not sure he’s the type who understands regret.”

“I hate it when anything gets tangled up with Lingxu City,” Jiao Yu muttered, visibly irritable. “It never ends well.”

* * *

News that the Crown Prince of Chiyan’s special envoy had left Shuanglu Town overnight reached Zhongsun Mou quickly.

Zhongsun Mou was taken aback. “What? Where did you say they went?”

“East.”

East? They came from the east in the first place. Are they retracing their steps?

And in the dead of night, no less.

What important lead could that He fellow have picked up?

All of Zhongsun Mou’s own leads pointed north.

After a moment’s thought, he said, “Send someone to follow them and see.”

As for himself, he chose to hold his position and make no move, intending to depart for Qi Province at dawn.

* * *

The return trip was not as urgent as their original dash, and traveling at night meant slowing down. He Lingchuan took an extra two hours to reach Youtian Town.

By then, it was well past midnight. The town was silent. There were no people on the streets, and there were no dogs barking.

So much chaos had occurred recently that the Baishi County magistrate had exhausted himself trying to deal with it all day. He had gone to bed the instant his head touched the pillow, his snores resounding like thunder.

Fortunately, he slipped right back into last night’s dream.

After hosting his “promotion banquet,” he walked through that classic, vulgar sequence: promotion, wealth, and then his wife dying.

Once his sour-faced old wife “died” quickly of illness, he remarried a new one, one who was as beautiful as a flower and as soft as silk. They spent their nights in endless revelry, night after night after—

He was in the middle of his springtime triumph when someone grabbed his shoulder and shook him hard. “Wake up! Wake up!”

He jolted awake and immediately saw his real wife’s face looming over him, eyebrows drawn tight with suspicion.

“What kind of dream were you having for you to have been smiling like such a lecher?”

“It was nothing...” Wait, I’d been shaken awake! The magistrate’s courage swelled. “Why are you waking me up in the middle of the night?”

“The yamen sent word. The Crown Prince’s special envoy is here again. He’s interrogating a prisoner in the jail right now.”

“What?”

By virtue of his status as special envoy, He Lingchuan was already in the jail, conducting a renewed interrogation of Wan Xianneng.

Patriarch Wan looked wretched. He was dusty and exhausted, and his face was slack with fatigue. He Lingchuan saw that the fingers on both hands were bruised purple and swollen. Clearly, he had already been put through punishment and hardship.

This was a pampered man who had grown used to comfort. After a full day of suffering, he had turned obedient. He answered questions quickly and did not dare dodge.

He Lingchuan demanded to see the written confession.

He and Jiao Yu had left town in a hurry, but the county yamen still had its own procedures to complete. After He Lingchuan left, they had gone through the formal process and hauled Wan in for questioning again.

And the confession contained one new piece of information:

Wan Xianneng’s nephew, Wan Song’s address.

When he was younger, Wan Song had not amounted to much. Wan Xianneng had found him some work here and there, but it was only enough to keep him fed. Then, two years ago, he suddenly bought a house in town. It was not a grand mansion, but it was comfortable, so it was still an upgrade in every sense.

He had also bought several thousand square meters of rice paddies and, just like that, became a real landlord, leaping classes in one step.

“Crooked paths bring fast money,” He Lingchuan said as he read. “How much did he earn over the last few years from hunting monsters and extracting beads?”

“I... I really don’t know.” Wan Xianneng’s voice was small. “He never tells me.”

By then, the Baishi County magistrate had arrived as well. He bowed slightly to He Lingchuan and spoke quickly, eager to please, “Lord Envoy, we’ve already dispatched people to keep watch on Wan Song’s residence. Also, we’ve standardized our public explanation. We’re saying that Wan Xianneng was severely delinquent on taxes, so we went to arrest him. That way, no rumors leak out.”

“Good.” He Lingchuan nodded. Then he turned back to Wan Xianneng. “Your nephew never married? No wife, no children?”

“Ah, no.”

“Then he has a lover.” He Lingchuan did not even phrase it like a question.

“Yes, yes,” Wan Xianneng admitted hurriedly. “I know he often goes to Lanchui House. His lover should be someone called Qing Gu.”

He Lingchuan glanced at the confession. That detail was not recorded.

“When does Wan Song usually come home?”

“He comes when he wants. There’s no pattern. Sometimes he vanishes for months and then suddenly appears.” Wan Xianneng hesitated, then added weakly, “Lord Envoy, that’s all I know.”

“If he’s always out roaming, he can’t manage his properties easily,” He Lingchuan said, staring at him. “So he entrusted them to you, didn’t he?”

“...Yes.”

“Then why haven’t I seen a list?”

Wan Xianneng hurried to agree, saying he would write one immediately.

But his hands were swollen like radishes, and he could barely hold a brush.

The Baishi County magistrate immediately snatched up the paper and brush, dipped ink himself, and declared, “I’ll write!”

So Wan Xianneng dictated while the magistrate wrote.

Wan Song’s holdings were not extensive. He had 1 residence, roughly 4600 square meters of rice paddies, roughly 3300 square meters of medicinal fields, 2 shopfronts, and 1 warehouse located near the medicinal fields.

“A warehouse?” He Lingchuan pointed at that line. “He’s not a merchant. What does he need a warehouse for?”

“Herbs harvested from the medicinal fields,” Wan Xianneng said, swallowing hard. “He also has me purchase medicinal herbs regularly and store them in the warehouse. Every so often, he comes back, resells them, and empties the warehouse.”

The magistrate bristled. “Something this important, and you didn’t say it earlier?” When I interrogated him, why hadn’t this come up?

“T-this is small stuff,” Wan Xianneng stammered. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

He Lingchuan fixed him with a cold stare. “Your nephew has a talent for killing, not for business. He buys and resells herbs on his own, yet you didn’t find that strange?”

After meeting Hong Chenglue, He Lingchuan knew all too well that some people simply could not do business. Nine deals out of ten would lose money, and the tenth would lose them their pants.

“I, I...” Wan Xianneng knew perfectly well his nephew could slap any excuse on it. He had simply chosen not to interfere.

“You remember our agreement?” He Lingchuan yawned. After running and working for more than twenty straight hours, he was genuinely tired. “If you’re not honest, our agreement is void.”

“I really don’t know who he sells the herbs to!” Wan Xianneng cried. “I’ve never met the buyers! But every time, the warehouse ends up empty! That part is true!”

“What herbs does he buy?”

Wan Xianneng rattled off a list.

All common medicinal materials. In Zhitian Township, collecting them would be easy as breathing.

Seeing that Wan Xianneng had been squeezed nearly dry, with no more real information to give, He Lingchuan stood up, satisfied. “Good. We got a lot.”

He gave the magistrate a few brief instructions, then took the monsters, who had listened throughout, back to the inn.

They still had to sleep. Investigations drained the mind.

* * *

About three hours later, just as the sky began to pale, He Lingchuan was awake again.

He dragged the old ram downstairs out of its deep snoring slumber, and the group set off to solve the next location: Wan Song’s residence.

The man had decent taste in choosing a place. He had picked a spot beside a lakeside pond on the western edge of town. It was quiet, yet close enough to the bustle. The compound was actually larger than Mr. Mai’s, being at least seven to eight hundred square meters. Nearly every room received sunlight, with bright windows and clean interiors.

Before entering, He Lingchuan spotted a white-faced owl perched on a big tree near the compound. It stood balanced on one leg, as if carved from stone, staring at them expressionlessly.

The magistrate had said someone was watching Wan Song’s residence and that it would be discovered.

It turns out that it was not a person at all, but rather this owl monster.

And clearly Wan Song had not returned. Otherwise, the owl would have flown off to report to the county yamen.

He Lingchuan and Jiao Yu paced through the house several times and found nothing useful.

They could tell Wan Song did not stay here often. There were only a few sets of clothes in the chests, and in the kitchen, only two or three dirty bowls lay unwashed.

He Lingchuan remarked quietly, “He’s nowhere near as meticulous as Mr. Mai.”

At Mr. Mai’s home, everything had been placed properly and precisely, orderly to the point of obsession. But Wan Song’s house was sloppy and casual. A trashy storybook lay abandoned in the kitchen, and a few dried pomelo peels had fallen in the courtyard.

Jiao Yu wandered into the backyard. Its nose hovered low, sniffing across the ground in circles, every so often letting out a sharp snort like a sneeze.

“You smell something?”

“Yes.” Jiao Yu kept circling. “That aberrant creature’s fishy stench is everywhere. It stayed here a long time.”

Wan Song’s backyard was also bare dirt, but unlike Mr. Mai’s, it had no planted herbs or vegetables. It had been left to waste, cluttered with junk.

He Lingchuan pinched up a bit of soil and rubbed it between his fingers. “It’s damp, almost wet enough to squeeze water out. It looks like we’ve found its nest.”

The moisture was heavy enough that even he could smell it.

“The lake is right outside,” General Ling said, pawing at the mud with one hoof. “So what are we supposed to look for?”

He Lingchuan’s gaze swept the ground. Then he saw something General Ling had uncovered in the mud.

He stepped over, picked it up, and spread it in his palm for a closer look.

A short segment of a flower spike, with several tiny purple blossoms.

He asked General Ling, “Do you know what this is?”

General Ling leaned in, sniffed, and its mouth moved slightly as if tasting memory. “Oh, that’s a self-heal herb. I’ve eaten them before.”

Of course it has. It’s a ram.

He Lingchuan said, “Mr. Mai’s backyard also grows self-heal herbs.”

“This stuff is everywhere. In Zhitian Township, you can see it in fields and by roadsides. I’ve seen farmers cut it for pig feed, rabbit feed, sometimes it doesn’t even need cultivating,” said General Ling. “Maybe Mr. Mai didn’t plant it. Maybe it grew on its own.”

“In a mud yard like this, have you ever seen self-heal herbs just grow on their own?”

The wild grasses in this patch had all been flattened, like something heavy had pressed them down. But the few self-heal herbs here were different. Their roots were exposed, not buried. They had not taken hold in the soil at all.

It was as if someone had scattered them across the surface.

General Ling still did not understand. “What’s so important about self-heal herbs? It’s just a common medicinal plant.”

“Self-heal herbs, self-heal...” He Lingchuan murmured. And suddenly, faintly, he remembered that he had heard of this herb from someone before.