Where Immortals Once Walked-Chapter 172: Reuniting Kin

Fourth Arc: Shihuan

Snowflakes drifted over the Hongchuan as He Chunhua’s Coordinating Army at last reached Shihuan City by boat.

The crowded warehouses, the clamorous docks, the accents of travelers from every corner of the realm—all of it struck the new arrivals with the sheer difference from Woling Pass the moment they stepped ashore.

Shihuan City was one of Great Yuan’s most critical strongholds, lying only about seven and a half kilometers from the capital itself.

Back when Hong Xiangqian had raised the Righteous Army, had they broken through Woling Pass, crossed the river west, and landed here, it would have been like thrusting a dagger straight into Yuan’s heart. A single push inward, and they could have battered down the gates of the capital itself, rewriting heaven and earth.

But history never deals in “what ifs.”

The Coordinating Army had traveled far, wearied by both boat and road. Once ashore, their first thought was to find lodging. For a metropolis like Shihuan City, hub of both land and water routes, housing a few hundred men was nothing at all.

After more than twenty days on the march, the soldiers finally had warm brick beds to sleep on.

When He Lingchuan overheard his father instructing Old Steward Mo to book guest rooms, he noted with satisfaction that they would not be rushing through the city and were likely to stay there for a few more days.

He Chunhua, with business heavy on his mind, wrote a letter the moment they reached the inn and had Old Mo deliver it. Only then did he bathe, change, and sit down to enjoy some tea and a meal.

He Lingchuan’s thoughts these days were all on cultivation. He wolfed down a few bowls of rice without tasting them, then made for the door only to run right into Madame Ying, who was leading in Mrs. Zhu. The latter smiled softly and bowed with courtesy.

He Lingchuan had been her savior, pulling her from a wolf’s den. To the youth who had rescued her, she was exceptionally respectful.

The young master clapped his hands. “Sister Zhu, you truly look radiant today! What’s the happy occasion?”

Years of toil had worn Zhu Xiu’er down, tanned her face, roughened her hands, left her body gaunt as a reed. When He Lingchuan first saw her in Immortal Spirit Village, her spirit was threadbare. But she was only just past twenty, with qi and blood still vigorous. After a few days of shelter under Madame Ying’s care, her color had returned, her chin no longer so sharp.

Now, with a touch of rouge and dressed in decent clothes, she was no longer the haggard peasant woman of before, but a different person altogether. She might not match the pampered daughters of noble houses, yet the change was striking.

Zhu Xiu’er bit her lip, but before she could reply, Madame Ying asked sharply, “And where are you rushing off to?”

“Just out to buy something.”

“What?”

“Tofu.”

Madame Ying linked arms with Zhu Xiu’er and gave him a glare. “It’s not even dark, and you’re already drunk?”

He Lingchuan scratched his head. “I’m just going on a stroll through the market. I won’t stir up any trouble.”

He had barely finished speaking when Old Mo bustled in to report, “Master, Madame, distinguished guests have arrived!”

He Yue happened to be coming out just then. He and his brother exchanged puzzled looks. They had only just set foot in Shihuan City. Their seats were not even warm yet. How could they already have visitors?

The guests, three in all, entered cloaked and hooded, with a few attendants behind them.

As they stepped into the private room, they caught sight of Zhu Xiu’er. Both sides froze and immediately became rooted to the spot.

In the next moment, one of the guests tore back her hood and cried out in a trembling voice, “Xiu’er!” She rushed forward and threw her arms around her.

It was a woman nearing forty, her features bearing a clear resemblance to Zhu Xiu’er’s.

The other two pulled off their hoods as well. It was an elderly couple, hair streaked with gray, robes fine and stately, and eyes brimming with tears.

Zhu Xiu’er embraced her mother and wept, then turned and fell into the arms of the elderly pair. “Grandfather, Grandmother, Xiu’er has come home!”

The old lady wept openly.

The old man, still pale with illness, patted her shoulder. “It’s enough that you are home. It’s enough.”

His gaze turned to the others in the room, settling at last on He Chunhua. “And you must be the Governor-General of Xia Province, Lord He?”

He Chunhua straightened his bearing. “Lord Zhu, I trust you are well?”

The elder before them was none other than Zhu Xiyan, Minister Coachman of the Court of the Imperial Stud!

He bowed low to He Chunhua. “For Xiu’er to return home, Governor-General He, our family owes you a great debt!”

He Chunhua returned the gesture. “To reunite kin is no more than my duty.”

Then he led his family out, leaving the small hall to the Zhu Family’s private reunion after seven long years apart.

Only then did He Lingchuan realize why his father had sent that letter earlier. He had summoned the Zhu Family here to reclaim their lost kin.

The Zhus had their ancestral home right here in Shihuan City, their lineage traceable back four generations. Zhu Xiyan himself lived here most of the time, entering the capital only when the court convened.

For in truth, the grand sight of the full court of officials was rare in any dynasty. If the emperor wanted counsel, he could simply summon a few in private; why bother with pomp and fuss?

The emperor was still human, after all, and disliked needless trouble.

In the past year, disasters and unrest had wracked Great Yuan, yet the court had only convened four times.

Zhu Xiyan was advanced in years, and a recent chill had left him bedridden. But at He Chunhua’s letter, he could not stay home. He brought his daughter-in-law at once.

As for Zhu Xiu’er’s father, he had passed away three years ago.

It was more than two quarters of an hour before the Zhu Family’s grief finally calmed. Zhu Xiyan, a seasoned court elder, turned next to He Chunhua. He expressed his gratitude with fervor, and only then asked for the full story.

He Chunhua held nothing back and recounted all that had happened.

The three Zhus were dumbstruck, listening in silence for a long while.

At last, Zhu Xiu’er wiped her tears and said, “Had it not been for Lord He’s righteous aid, I would have long been slain by the brigands at Immortal Spirit Village!”

Madame Ying smiled in satisfaction, and He Lingchuan quietly raised a thumb.

Well said!

Zhu Xiu’er’s grandmother, Sun Yuhua, wavered for a while before finally asking, “And Xiu’er’s two children? Where are they?”

Her granddaughter had borne two, yet they had not seen them here. Nor had He Chunhua mentioned their fate.

Madame Ying sighed. “When Xiu’er exposed the enemy’s plot, the brigands took her children in revenge.”

Zhu Xiu’er broke down sobbing. Zhu Xiyan and his wife exchanged a long glance and sighed together.

“Enough. It is enough that you have returned. Children can come again in time.”

Zhu Xiyan then turned to He Chunhua. “Governor-General He, there is one matter I must entrust to you.”

He Chunhua rose. “Let us speak inside.”

The Zhu women were sent back by carriage, while the Minister Coachman remained behind with the newly appointed Governor-General of Xia Province. The two men shut themselves in to discuss affairs.

Zhu Xiu’er bid farewell to Madame Ying and the He brothers, her eyes red, glancing back at every step as she departed.

When the Zhu Family carriage finally turned the corner and disappeared, He Yue muttered, “Why do I feel the Minister Coachman was not truly grieved by his great-grandchildren’s deaths?”

“You’re not mistaken. They were relieved.” He Lingchuan clapped his younger brother’s shoulder. The boy was still too green. “It’s better for them to not have to worry about the hidden dangers that such children can end up posing. For the Zhu Family, this is for the best.”

Everyone knew it in their hearts, even Zhu Xiu’er herself.

With the spectacle over, He Lingchuan rubbed his neck and headed out. “I’ve still got some errands to run. I’ll be back before night.”

* * *

When the sun set, He Lingchuan returned. His father had not yet come back from his engagement.

At supper, mother and sons ate together. Afterward, He Lingchuan yawned, claimed fatigue, and retired to his room.

After so many cramped days cooped up in the ship’s cabin, the brothers had no wish to suffer such a fate further in Shihuan City. Each of them took a large guest room for himself.

He Lingchuan bolted his door, then drew out two jade bottles from his storage ring.

Earlier that evening, he had wandered the city, purchased herbs, and had them boiled into pills at an apothecary.

The newly acquired Meridian Art had a distinctive feature. Regardless of what other techniques one practiced, its early stages revolved around two critical times, namely the hour of the rat or midnight, when yin energy was strongest, and the hour of the horse or noon, when yang energy was at its peak. At those hours, He Lingchuan had to practice the internal technique, drawing in yin and yang to refine within his own body.

When he first read this, he had been startled. Midnight was manageable enough. After all, moonlight had always been prime nourishment for cultivators and monsters alike, but as for the blazing fire of the midday sun? Few could endure that directly. The mildest outcome was qi deviation, while the worst was self-immolation. Many a bloody cautionary tale testified to this danger.

But on closer reading, he saw that the technique did not require novices to draw in the sun’s fire directly. Rather, at midnight and noon, they were to take yin and yang dispersing powders, which would, in harmony with the natural time, aid in refinement.

Drawing in heaven and earth’s qi was the most stable, tried-and-true method of cultivation, but also the slowest. It was a process wherein one consolidated their progress step by step. Human lifespans were too short for such a slow process, however, and thus they had come to devise and use clever techniques and medicinal aids to hasten breakthroughs.

Naturally, the manual also recorded recipes for the two powders. That was what He Lingchuan had gone to purchase earlier.

As one of Panlong City’s internal techniques for all its citizens, the Meridian Art began with simple prescriptions, requiring only common herbs that can be easily found in any apothecary, at a dirt-cheap price.

However, the difficulty rose by stages. The later prescriptions made his jaw drop, and it was no wonder that military merit was so precious. Many of the required ingredients in the later prescriptions were not for sale at any price within the city.

In this respect, He Lingchuan was luckier than most. He lived in Great Yuan, where resources were somewhat richer. Even so, there were medicines so costly that even if he sold off the entire He Mansion, he still could not afford them.

Cultivation is this expensive?

He felt his “rich young master” persona slipping away fast.

For now, at least, there was no such worry. A beginner’s mixture could be cooked in an ordinary medicine pot. As he waited in the apothecary’s back room, he found himself thinking that he would need to acquire a proper pill furnace for himself sooner or later.

This was the drawback of being on his own. Disciples of sects had far fewer worries. They had someone to refine their pills, forge their weapons, write their talismans, so on and so forth. They had an entire support system that let them focus wholly on cultivating. He Lingchuan, meanwhile, had to do everything himself.

Whether it be refining pills or forging tools, both of these required precise technique and exact timing. They could not be mastered overnight. His troubles were only beginning. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

For now, he would use the Guiding Art as the primer. When midnight came, he would swallow a yin pill, then use the Meridian Art.

At that hour, the key was to guide both ambient yin qi and the pill’s yin qi into the Yongquan acupoints at the soles of his feet. These lay furthest from the heart and were in contact with the earth, thereby making them the perfect entry for yin qi to coil like a serpent and travel through yin channels.

That was the path from below upward.

The next day at noon, he would take a yang pill, drawing yang qi into the Shanzhong point at the chest, guiding it through the yang meridians.

That was the path from above downward.

When the yin serpent and the yang serpent met at the dantian, it would mean the first stage was complete.

Most curious of all, the Meridian Art did not demand one to sit solemnly upright or assume the Five Hearts Facing Heaven[1] posture. So long as qi circulated properly, one could even practice while busy or asleep. Midnight and noon were, after all, the times when people were usually either working or resting.

He Lingchuan trained steadily for an hour, then drifted off into sleep.

And in his dream, he entered Panlong City once more.

1. This is basically just the lotus position. ☜