Where Immortals Once Walked

For monsters, as well as a particular type of people, these dried animals were the perfect tasty snack.

The father and son, along with Uncle Hao and the steward, rummaged through everything in silence, but they ultimately found nothing worth their attention and had to give up.

He Lingchuan lowered his head and stole a glance at the amulet hanging by his chest. It felt different; it no longer seemed to be the same one he once had. He had often considered handing it over, but each time, a voice deep inside warned him never to show it to anyone!

The premonition was so powerful that, despite his internal struggle, he ultimately chose to heed his instincts.

“Put these away. As for those two guards, keep them under the watch of the Red and White Society. I remember that the Red and White Society owns a farmstead on the southern outskirts of the city. Since it’s currently off-season, there probably won’t be anyone at the farmstead. Lingchuan, do you understand what I want you to do? Good. Go after dinner, and ensure it’s handled cleanly.” He Chunhua then turned to Uncle Hao and said, “A’Hao, you stay.”

He Lingchuan accepted the order and left, while Uncle Hao remained where he was.

Only when the eldest son of the He Family had vanished behind the corridor did He Chunhua speak again. “Tell me everything that happened today, from the beginning.”

Uncle Hao recounted it all without embellishment or omission.

When he finished, Chunhua gave a slow nod and dismissed him.

The shed fell into silence. He Chunhua stared blankly at the leopard corpse on the table, losing himself in thought for quite some time.

Steward Wu stood by patiently, saying nothing. It was only after the time it takes to burn two sticks of incense that he finally spoke up, “Master, it’s time for supper.”

Commandery Administrator He grunted in response, then asked, “What’s your take on all this?”

“The young master might seem reckless, but he handled this quite well,” Steward Wu said with a smile. “Those two guards had no business running around the city asking questions.”

“Mm, that little rascal finally grew a brain. Maybe that serious injury of his really was a blessing in disguise.” Commandery Administrator He let out a breath of relief.

“You were worried about his sudden change in temperament, but now you can rest easy.”

“Mm.” Commandery Administrator He’s voice was tinged with melancholy. “Let’s go, time for supper.”

* * *

No matter how deeply the commandery administrator yearned for his homeland or how closely the He Mansion imitated the capital’s style, the daily meals still had to bow to local realities, and he had to eat the same food as everyone else in Heishui City.

After all, if you live by the mountains, you eat from the mountains; if you live by the water, you eat from the water; and if you live by the land, then you eat from the land.

He Lingchuan was happily tearing into half a boiled lamb shank, devouring it with gusto. It had been simmered in nothing but plain water, with only a few slices of ginger and a knot of scallions to take off the gamey edge.

This was meat in its purest form. The lamb was crisp and springy to the bite, and when dipped into a mix of pepper and spiced salt, the flavor was so good it could move one to tears. He Lingchuan cut off a slice, dipped it, ate it, and sighed with satisfaction after every bite.

The commandery administrator’s chef used only rams under eighteen months old, from a breed that roamed the Gobi and fed on medicinal herbs like Mongolian dandelions and Baikal skullcaps[1]. Their meat was rich and fragrant, utterly unlike common lamb elsewhere. This was a specialty of the Hongya Route.

Seated beside He Chunhua was a stately woman in elegant robes, blowing gently on a spoonful of millet porridge before taking a slow sip. Her unhurried grace stood in stark contrast to He Lingchuan’s hearty feasting.

She was He Chunhua’s first wife, as well as the He Family’s matron, Ying Hongchan. Occasionally, she would try a piece of lamb, but only after the steward had carved and plated it beautifully for her.

She listened with a glowing smile as her husband and youngest son conversed, occasionally stealing a glance at He Lingchuan.

Their family of four was all together, whole and complete.

He Chunhua was currently discussing tax revenue from Qiansong Commandery with his youngest son.

Yes, taxes. One of Heishui City’s favorite topics of conversation. The commandery administrator’s most capable adviser was not some seasoned accountant or scholarly advisor but his not-quite-fourteen-year-old youngest son, He Yue.

This child had learned to read at the age of three and could recite three hundred poems by heart by the age of seven. The very next year, two of the He Family’s bookkeepers were thrown in jail—He Yue had idly gone through the ledgers and uncovered several years’ worth of bad debt and a pair of chubby white maggots fattening off the family coffers.

By the time he was twelve, he was accomplished in chess, calligraphy, and painting, and he even started offering advice on prefectural affairs—no, that was not quite right. He was actively offering sound, actionable proposals.

And He Chunhua was no stuffy pedant. His son’s suggestions were clear and effective, so of course, he gave him full support. With each success, He Yue’s confidence grew, and he began to take on more of his father’s responsibilities.

So, scenes like this were now a common sight.

1. These two herbs are also called Chinese dandelions and Chinese skullcaps. ☜