Where Immortals Once Walked-Chapter 209: A Village Dead on a Snowy Night

Fifth Arc: Dunyu

He Lingchuan’s eyes flew open, and he jerked upright.

He was inside the carriage. The space was cramped. On the low table before him lay a half-finished game, and on the opposite wall a small smudge marred the paneling. By his feet, a tiered mountain-shaped censer puffed out a steady stream of calming incense.

He was back in the real world.

Instinctively, he touched his own throat. Both hands came away clammy with cold sweat.

It’s completely fine.

He drew a long breath. It feels good to be alive.

This had been his third brush with death. The sensation of a blade severing his windpipe would not leave him, especially since the hand on the hilt had been his own.

If entering the Panlong Dreamscape had any flaw, then it was that it was too real.

How long would it take this time to claw his way out from that shadow of death?

He tried to be optimistic. If you die often enough, do you grow numb of it?

He lifted the curtain; the rush of wind outside snapped into clarity.

Right. His father was hell-bent on making time and had missed the last decent stopover; the Coordinating Army was pushing on through a sudden squall of wind and snow. He Yue had roped Sun Hongye—He Lingchuan’s newly hired aide—into a game to pass the time, while He Lingchuan had watched from the carriage and “accidentally” dozed off.

What could he do? The wind outside had been too lulling, and those two played far too slowly.

At the flap’s rustle, Sun Hongye poked his head in.

“Oh! You’re awake, Young Master?”

He Lingchuan yawned. “Why’d you two abandon the board halfway through?”

Sun Hongye coughed lightly. “Second Young Master said we shouldn’t disturb your rest.” In truth, it was the exact opposite. He Lingchuan’s thunderous snoring had made it impossible for them to place their pieces.

“Come up and talk,” He Lingchuan said, grabbing a cup and taking two gulps of cold tea. “I might have been too tired.”

No one knew that while he had been sleeping peacefully here, his consciousness had been off in the Panlong Wasteland, living through a blazing, full-scale battle—and dying once, leaving him rattled even now.

He had just been through something hair-raising, and the world around him had not the faintest clue.

“Before I nodded off, I think I heard you say Generals Ke Jihai and Wu Di took Woling Pass using your strategy?”

“Yes,” Sun Hongye replied. “I proposed it to the Lord Imperial Censor, who was so pleased he went straight into the palace that night and presented the plan to the King word for word.” Back then, Sun Hongye had been a study companion in the household of Imperial Censor Hé Liwen, so seeing the Imperial Censor was not hard for him.

“I’ve heard the story of how those two took Woling Pass. There are street storytellers doing the rounds now. However, I’ve never heard your name mentioned even once.” He Lingchuan made a thoughtful noise. “Did Old Hé have the cheek to claim he came up with it himself?”

“No, it wasn’t that.”

So the Imperial Censor has at least a shred of shame.

“Lord Hé reported that his third son, Hé Jing, had been so heartsick for the realm that he had tossed and turned for months before finally devising the plan,” Sun Hongye said with a bitter smile. “Afterward, the King rewarded Hé Jing handsomely.”

Even He Lingchuan could not help but laugh after hearing that. “Robbing heaven’s merit to fatten one’s own brood—that’s an old official’s trick. Nothing new there.”

“I was young and foolish, and let my resentment slip into my words. Word got back to Lord Hé, and he expelled me from the household.”

The tea had long gone cold, and there was no brazier in the carriage. He Lingchuan wrapped his hand around the pot and drew on his true energy; in a moment, steam was peeping from the spout.

Afterward, he poured Sun Hongye a fresh, hot cup with his own hand before saying, “Back at Luming Garden, Hé Su, the second son, ran his mouth at me and Zhu Xiu’er. Your carriage’s mishap on the way down the mountain was tied to him, too. I’d meant to teach him a lesson, but then I thought, why not save the chance for you?”

A flicker crossed Sun Hongye’s face.

Anyone else would have told him to let it go. After all, what right did a nobody have to call out a high minister of the realm?

He Lingchuan went on, “Don’t sell yourself short. Just look at Old Hé’s second and third sons; you can tell that the Hé Family’s fate is declining. Come north with me for a few years; opportunities will come fast.”

Sun Hongye thought for a moment, then nodded with resolve. “All right!”

He was eager, and following the He Family north might finally let him spread his wings.

“Right, earlier we spotted lights on the mountain across the way. It might be a village. Lord He has already sent people to scout.” Sun Hongye smiled. “Madame Ying had a few sharp words about it.”

He Lingchuan poured himself more hot tea and felt the warmth in his stomach. “She got spooked by those brigands by Immortal Spirit Lake and now thinks every village under heaven means us ill.”

“Hunger and cold breed thieves; the madame’s worry isn’t without cause.” Sun Hongye lifted the curtain to peer at the dark mountain. Sure enough, points of light glimmered ahead, especially welcoming in the wind and snow. “It’s just that we’re strong in arms, petty cutthroats won’t dare covet us.”

He Lingchuan drawled, “What’s there to fear of thieves or brigands? We’ve got some brigands of our own.”

Wu Shaoyi and the several hundred men who had been amnestied did not have uniforms yet, but they were already folded into He Chunhua’s Coordinating Army.

Sun Hongye’s face turned solemn. “Second Young Master told me about the battle at Immortal Spirit Village. You stayed behind to cover the retreat—that’s courage. You survived the fall off the cliff—that’s luck. Then you took the chance to win over the crocodile demon and Wu Shaoyi—that’s wit. Wit, courage, and luck, you have all three. You’re not as simple as you look, Young Master.”

“Do I look simple?” He Lingchuan flicked his eyelids at him. “Keep praising me, maybe I’ll give you a raise.”

“Eldest Young Master is playful but without vices, meticulous but decisive. These are the very qualities a northern campaign needs in a commander.” Sun Hongye grinned. “If Lord He has any eye at all, he’ll entrust you with real responsibility.”

Hoofbeats thudded from not far ahead.

He Lingchuan lifted the curtain and saw a rider galloping down from the far mountain road to merge with the vanguard of the Coordinating Army.

They looked like a scout returning.

Sure enough, before long, an officer rode back and forth, passing orders for the men to be alert and ready for anything.

He Lingchuan reached out and halted him. “What’s ahead?”

“A slaughtered village,” the officer replied. “Seven or eight dozen men and women dead. The killers didn’t spare even the children.”

“Bandits again?” So much for law and order in Great Yuan.

“Doesn’t look like wounds from blades. Lord He orders us to keep advancing, but to be ready to fight.”

The wind and snow were worsening; the Coordinating Army needed a place to bed down. The village ahead might be grim, but no one knew how far it was to the next settlement after that.

Marching in a snowstorm was even more dangerous than a night run in the rain.

Besides, He Chunhua had several hundred troops at his back. Out here in the wilderness, what force could threaten him?

So the group kept to the plan and moved on.

With trouble ahead, He Lingchuan could not justify lounging in the carriage. He mounted a horse and rode forward to find his father.

About half an hour later, the Coordinating Army reached a village midway up the slope.

It was smaller than Immortal Spirit Village, with only a few dozen buildings—homes, wood sheds, pens, storehouses—and most of them still had lights on inside.

There were bloodstains on the ground and walls.

He saw no bodies, but there were drag marks scored across the earth.