Where Immortals Once Walked-Chapter 231: Unpredictable Winds

“I believe Commander Zhong is just as glad to see them go,” Sun Fuling said as she annotated the last few lines. “Now that Wei City has been reclaimed, someone needs to defend it, and someone needs to till the land. In three months, when spring melts the snow, the fields outside Wei City will be fertile again. It would be a shame to let them lie fallow.”

In the Panlong Wasteland, food had always been a pressing issue.

“Won’t the Baling forces try to take Wei City back?” He Lingchuan actually already knew the answer to this. Of course, they will.

“They will,” Sun Fuling said evenly. “As long as Baling harbors thoughts of our destruction, they’ll attack Wei City again.”

He Lingchuan could not help but sigh deeply. Sun Fuling, however, said softly, “That’s just how the world is. A good death or a miserable life—you still have to pick one.”

She then carefully blew the ink dry. “Alright, I’ve finished the annotations. Let’s begin our first lesson.”

At the brazier, the sparrowhawk immediately buried its head into the feathers on its back. It looked like it was going to sleep.

The sunlight on the window lattice grew more slanted, its edges blurred in the drifting dust.

Sun Fuling lectured with focus and precision, but He Lingchuan’s mind wandered. They sat close together, and from this angle, her jawline looked elegant, her lips perfectly shaped. Her complexion was pale, but her nose was straight, and her almond eyes shone with vivid life.

Wasn’t there a saying for this? Was it two black drops of mercury gliding within white mercury[1]?

Other beauties had eyes like flowing water—soft, tender, and brimming with sentiment. But Sun Fuling’s eyes held light, like cold stars in the night sky—clear, sharp, and arresting.

Eyes like those did not belong to a sheltered young girl; they belonged to someone who had seen things, perhaps even seen too much.

Though he knew she was Sun Jiayuan’s sister, He Lingchuan’s curiosity about her only deepened.

“Did you get that?” Sun Fuling waved her brush twice before his eyes, catching his absent stare.

“Y-yes, I did.” He Lingchuan suppressed a yawn with effort.

The lesson had gone on for four whole hours!

How is she able to talk for four hours straight without even sipping water?

She really is a professional.

Beside them, the sparrowhawk was already snoring, and He Lingchuan envied it bitterly.

He had managed to concentrate for the first two hours, but by the third hour, the characters on the page seemed to crawl off the paper and swim around his mind like tadpoles.

Sun Fuling saw through his struggle. She rose and said, “That’s enough for today. More than this and you’ll just forget everything.”

“Yes, yes, thank you, Teacher Sun!” He Lingchuan leaped up, stretching his stiff back in secret relief.

“I’ll head back. You should rest early,” Sun Fuling said with a polite nod and turned to leave.

She was helping him out of kindness; it only felt right to show a little gratitude in return. He Lingchuan’s gaze swept across the stove and the paper-wrapped roast chicken sitting on it, and then he remembered something better.

“Wait a moment!”

He went to the flowerpot and dug out a candy snail.

After being taken from the damp warmth of Mount Yan’s caverns into this cold, dry air, it had frozen solid. He pried out the snail meat with a toothpick, rinsed the shell clean, and offered it to her.

“I don’t have much of value, so please accept this as tuition payment.”

“A candy shell?” Sun Fuling held it up to the light as her voice brightened with surprise. “You’re really giving this to me? These are expensive, you know? You could pay six months’ tuition with one!”

She knew exactly what it was.

This particular piece that He Lingchuan had given her was exquisite. Its inner spiral was a soft grassy green, ringed by a band of deep black, with the outermost whorl glowing in a brilliant gradient of apple red. It was a flawless, natural beauty.

Candy snails developed such colors depending on what they ate, and even the order in which they ate.

He Lingchuan shrugged lightly. “A fine sword for a hero, a pretty gift for a fair lady.”

Sun Fuling brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her eyes shining even brighter. Her voice turned soft as silk. “Thank you for the generous gift. I like it very much.”

They exchanged farewells. Sun Fuling left with the candy shell clutched tightly in her hand.

He Lingchuan could not help but marvel at the power jewelry held over women. Even someone as composed as Sun Fuling could not tear her eyes away from that shimmering shell.

He looked down at the rest of the snails and sighed.

If only he could find that cavern in the real world. If he did, he would have an endless source of income.

When he returned to the kitchen, one of the roast chickens was missing, and so was the sparrowhawk by the fire.

* * *

The next morning, the people of Dunyu City awoke to two major pieces of news.

The first piece of news was that three more members of the Zhan Family had died overnight.

To be exact, three and a half.

Two had been gravely wounded the day before, lingering on until dawn before finally succumbing.

The last one and a half was the most tragic of all: Fourth Master Zhan’s pregnant wife had perished.

Fourth Master Zhan was already fifty years old. Four years ago, he remarried, marrying a woman thirty-two years his junior.

It was only natural for an old husband to dote on a young wife.

Yesterday, when the Li Family’s private guards stormed into the Zhan Residence, they knocked the seven-months-pregnant lady to the ground. Her belly struck a patch of rockery hard, resulting in blood pouring down her skirt. At that time, she had lost consciousness on the spot.

The official physician rushed to save her, but it was to no avail.

By midnight, there were two bodies instead of one.

The child had been a boy, which nearly drove Fourth Master Zhan to the brink of madness.

Everyone who heard the story could only sigh and shake their heads.

Then again, infant mortality was high these days. One or two in ten rarely made it. And the Zhan Family, one of Dunyu’s four great families, did not exactly have a spotless reputation. The commoners always added, “The father’s sins call down retribution on the children,” before turning the tragedy into idle gossip over breakfast.

The second piece of news was that the troops of Xun Province had broken through at Baiche Ridge, tearing a gaping hole in General Zhao Pan’s defensive line.

In years past, when the founding emperor of Yuan attacked Xia Province, the local gentry around Dunyu had rallied to support him with food and supplies. The ridge had been so busy with wagons that it earned its name as Baiche Ridge[2].

But those were bygone days. The current army of Yuan was a shadow of its former self—short on rations, short on morale—and now even that critical ridge had fallen to Xun Province.

The fall of Baiche Ridge was a slap in the face to the Royal Court of Yuan, a pointed rebuke from Nian Zanli himself.

Worse still, the land south of the ridge was flat and open with no terrain to fortify. From there, Xun Province’s troops could pour southward unhindered.

When the news broke, all of Dunyu City trembled.

From Baiche Ridge to Dunyu was only about two hundred kilometers in a straight line. Worse, the imperial highway from there offered a faster march.

For the first time, the clouds of war hung palpably over Dunyu City, as well as over every heart within it.

So much so that talk of the front lines soon overshadowed even the scandal of the Zhan Family’s three and a half deaths.

Over breakfast, Madame Ying relayed the news to He Chunhua. He gave the table a light slap.

“Heaven—”

He had almost said “Heaven is helping me,” but when he caught the astonished look on Madame Ying’s face, he smoothly corrected himself, “Heaven is unpredictable.” Yet the gleam in his eyes was unmistakably cheerful.

A few deaths in the Zhan Family would inflame tensions. There was no need for him to employ his more drastic backup plans now.

Not long after, Old Steward Mo arrived to report the northern campaign’s progress.

When he finished, He Chunhua drew a long, measured breath. A pillow delivered just as he nodded off—his luck was almost frightening.

These two events were blessings in disguise. Others might see danger, but he saw opportunity.

His eldest son truly was a bringer of fortune.

Facing the rising sun to the east, He Chunhua’s chest swelled with ambition.

An entirely new chapter—his chapter—was finally about to begin.

Sure enough, right after breakfast, the head of the Zhan Family, Zhan Song, arrived at the He Residence with several wagons of lavish gifts. His eyes were red as he presented a fresh indictment against the Li Family, begging the governor to uphold justice.

Because the case of the Li Family’s private guards murdering innocents would not be formally tried until the suspects surrendered two days later, the Zhan Family’s demand was simple: that justice be served swiftly and harshly.

He Chunhua put on a look of solemn sympathy. “Rest assured, I won’t let the culprits escape unpunished.”

After that came the real play. Zhan Song was no fool. He knew he was asking for a favor, and against the most powerful family in Dunyu, no less. Such a request required tribute.

From his sleeve, he produced a banknote and placed it on the table.

“Governor He, you dare face the tiger head-on when others would flee. The Zhan Family is deeply moved and wishes to donate this note to the provincial administration. With this note, the government may claim five thousand shi of grain from our warehouses.”

One shi was about seventy-two kilograms, so five thousand shi was equivalent to about three hundred and fifty thousand kilograms of grain. Such an amount was enough to briefly ease the army’s supply crisis at the front.[3]

He Chunhua smiled faintly. “The Zhan Family is too generous.”

His tone was polite but restrained. Zhan Song understood at once that they had given too little.

Zhao Pan’s troops numbered over thirty thousand. Even idle, they would eat through five thousand shi in ten days.

“If Heaven has eyes, and our Zhan Family’s plea is granted justice, we’re willing to donate another five thousand shi.”

He Chunhua rose, hands clasped behind his back. “Heaven’s net is vast and leaves no sin unpunished. The Zhan Family needs only await the good news.”

That was a clear promise. Zhan Song let out a quiet breath of relief and took his leave.

Once, he would never have believed that the authorities would dare touch the Li Family. But this new Governor-General He was freshly appointed, known for quelling rebels in the western frontier and rising through merit, especially after slaying Sun Fuping. He owed no favors to the capital’s great families.

As Zhan Song stepped out of the He Residence, he looked up at the sky and sighed softly. Never before had he so sincerely hoped for an honest verdict from the government.

Unbeknownst to him, a spy stationed nearby saw everything and rushed to report to the Li Family.

As for the conversation between the Governor-General of Xia Province and the head of the Zhan Family, He Chunhua did not even need to leak it. Within four hours, word had already reached the Li brothers.

Li Rong sneered, “Ten thousand shi! The Zhan Family thinks ten thousand shi of grain is enough to destroy us?”

Yet his face had gone pale as paper. He had not slept in two days. The Li Residence had always been flat and level, but since last night, he had tripped three times and nearly fallen flat on his face.

Just then, a servant rushed in. “Sixth Young Master has returned!”

Li Rong shot to his feet. “Quick, bring him in—now!”

* * *

Spring had already passed, yet the lakes outside Dunyu City were still frozen two-thirds of a meter thick.

He Lingchuan played the part of a true young noble, parading a wolf and a monkey on jeweled leashes. Dressed in brocade and crowned with gold, he strode through the city with Mao Tao and four or five guards in tow.

First, they went to the best restaurant in Dunyu for a lavish meal. Then they headed to the Xiangyun Garden to listen to music.

Everywhere they went, they drew attention.

By any measure, Dunyu’s prices were far steeper than those in Heishui City.

1. Ok, this is the first time I’ve seen this. Apparently, it’s from The Travels of Lao Can (老残游记), and the entire passage goes something like this: her eyes were like autumn water, cold stars, bright pearls, like two black drops of mercury gliding within white mercury. ☜

2. The name directly translates to hundred wagons. ☜

3. I’ve actually been directly translating the shi to their equivalent in kilos, so you don’t really have to worry about remembering this. I’m just keeping it as is here since the author wrote it out explicitly. ☜