Where Immortals Once Walked

Once he fastened his belt, He Chunhua straightened his robes and immediately looked vigorous and full of energy again. “Once matters here are settled, we’ll set out for Heishui City.”

He looked radiant, every bit the imposing general. All trace of the previous night’s dishevelment and despair had long since vanished.

“Yes,” Zhao Qinghe replied. Yet inwardly, he could not help but wonder just how many thoughts and burdens this great general kept hidden in his heart.

The sound of weeping from the commander’s tent the previous night had already spread through the camp. Once word got around that their commander had cried his heart out on the day of his family memorial rites, those who knew the story began telling others about the old tragedy in which the He Family had nearly been exterminated.

The soldiers who heard it could only sigh with emotion.

General He’s entire family had suffered a terrible injustice. Anyone else might have grown bitter and disillusioned long ago, yet General He still continued to fight and labor for his state, holding up Great Yuan when the realm itself seemed ready to collapse.

To answer resentment with integrity, now that was the conduct of a true man. The soldiers thus admired him all the more.

* * *

Catching the very tail end of the fifth month, He Lingchuan arrived in Heishui City.

The capital of Yuan was already sweltering, but the wind in Heishui City still carried a trace of coolness.

He Lingchuan passed through the familiar city gate and took a deep breath.

Yes. This was exactly the rough, wild smell he remembered. The air smelled of windblown sand mingled with rotting timber, along with the dusty scent of old ash.

Dry, harsh, untamed, yet all strangely familiar.

He Chunhua had not reached Heishui City yet, so He Lingchuan first brought Qiu Hu and the others to an inn.

That evening, he went wandering around the city by himself.

Compared to when he had left, Heishui City had barely changed at all. Everywhere he looked were the same old streets, old alleys, and familiar faces.

In a frontier city like this, unless some major upheaval occurred, decades could pass without much changing.

He Lingchuan bought one of the scallion flatbreads he used to eat all the time, then leisurely strolled into the southern administrative office.

He had barely taken two steps inside when the gatekeeper hurried over to stop him. “Out, out! You can’t eat in here!”

This was an official government office. What sort of image would it present if the greasy smell of fried food drifted through it?

He Lingchuan took another bite of his flatbread, turned around, and grinned. “Wang Xiaoshuan, what did you just say?”

The man froze. His mouth reacted faster than his brain. “E-Eldest Young Master?”

“It’s been over a year. How are you still stuck guarding the gate?”

Wang Xiaoshuan visibly flinched. “Eldest Young Master, weren’t you, weren’t you in...”

He Lingchuan smiled pleasantly. “Right, is Situ Han here?”

“Ah, yes, he’s inside.”

“Tell him to go to the Cai Family’s wonton stall. I’ll wait for him there.” He Lingchuan tossed Wang Xiaoshuan a few small pieces of silver, then turned to leave.

The Cai Family’s wontons were fairly famous in Heishui City. The wrapping was thin, the filling generous, and the ingredients honest and plentiful.

The stall owner still recognized He Lingchuan. His face immediately lit up, and he served him two enormous bowls.

The wontons were still swollen, plump, and round in the broth when Situ Han arrived.

“Eldest Young Master!”

One glance at his uniform was enough for He Lingchuan to tell. “Oh, you’ve become a head constable[1]? Come, sit.”

Situ Han had once been the leader of the Mount Mang bandits.

When He Chunhua entered Panlong Desert in search of the ruins, he had simply absorbed the entire bandit gang—more than thirty men in all—into his forces. Afterward, they had taken part in the Heishui City army’s battle against the heroic spirits in the Panlong Ruins, then later fought Nian Songyu and State Preceptor Sun inside the Panlong Illusion Realm. Once they returned to the city, they were rewarded for their service and formally entered official ranks.

He Lingchuan had originally assumed they would fail to adapt to official posts and would soon return to their old trade.

Unexpectedly, Situ Han and the others had actually done quite well here. Some of them had even been promoted.

Sure enough, there was something magical about securing a proper official post. In the end, it seemed that stability trumped everything.

He Lingchuan also noticed that Situ Han sat with both hands pressed neatly against his thighs, his entire posture stiff and restrained.

This was nothing like the old Mount Mang bandits, who had once eaten meat in huge chunks, passed around large bowls of wine, and divided loot with scales.

Two years in government service had already taught them the difference between superior and subordinate.

Situ Han sat down properly and asked, “Eldest Young Master, did you come all the way from the capital?”

“Where else would I be coming from?” Heishui City was isolated, and news traveled slowly. Situ Han still had no idea that He Lingchuan had once fallen into the river and disappeared. He assumed the young master had simply remained in Xia Province all this time, only moving to the capital of Yuan recently with He Chunhua.

He Lingchuan scooped up a spoonful of broth and blew on it to cool it. “My old man just crushed the southern rebellion. He won a major victory. He should reach Heishui City in a few days.”

Situ Han was startled at first, then overjoyed. “We won?”

“If we’d lost, he wouldn’t have the time to come here.” He Lingchuan smiled. “You knew about the fighting in the south too?”

“Yeah. The whole city’s been talking about it. One moment people say we lost in the northwest; the next, they say we lost in the south. Everyone’s been feeling pretty hopeless.” Situ Han sighed, glanced around, then lowered his voice. “A few of my brothers even asked me whether, if things really took a sudden turn for the worse, we should go back to Hongya Route and live there again.”

“What did you tell them?”

Situ Han let out a long sigh and said solemnly, “We’re men with official posts and accomplishments now. There’s no going back.”

He Lingchuan merely smiled.

Hah, what nonsense. It seems like everyone’s getting better and better at making themselves sound good.

Situ Han suddenly asked, “Oh, right. How’s that kid Mao Tao doing? He was always sharper than the rest of us. Lord He must’ve taken a liking to him, right?”

Back when He Chunhua was transferred to Xia Province, the other Mount Mang bandits had all been unwilling to leave their homeland. Only Mao Tao had stubbornly insisted on going.

The smile disappeared from He Lingchuan’s face.

“...”

By the time he finished recounting the battles in Xia Province, Situ Han had fallen silent as well.

After quite a while, he finally said, “That kid Mao Tao, he did well for himself. He got what he wanted. I don’t think he would’ve regretted it.”

Just hearing the stories was enough for Situ Han to imagine how terrifying those battles must have been.

He Lingchuan pulled a cloth-wrapped bundle from his robes and handed it over. “He was from Mount Mang. I couldn’t bring his remains home, so I could only bring back his memorial tablet. Build him a cenotaph. Clear the weeds twice a year and burn paper money for him twice a year too. Make sure there’s plenty of variety—paper servants, paper horses, paper houses. Can you do that?”

Inside the bundle was Mao Tao’s memorial tablet.

Situ Han took it and nodded repeatedly. “Absolutely. That kid Mao Tao liked girls with big eyes. When the time comes, I’ll burn him paper women to his liking.”

He Lingchuan smiled faintly, then handed him another pouch.

Situ Han opened it and saw several gold bars inside, altogether weighing a little over thirty taels.

That amounted to several hundred thousand copper coins.

He hurriedly tried to push it back. “Mao Tao was my brother. Setting up a grave for him is something I ought to do—”

“Take it.”

“Oh.” Despite He Lingchuan merely frowning, Situ Han inexplicably found himself utterly frightened. He immediately abandoned the thought of refusing.

The eldest young master is much different now.

He seems calmer now, steadier.

Is it because he fought on battlefields and saw life and death firsthand?

Situ Han had once been a bandit. He was good at judging people according to the situation.

If he ever encountered someone like the current He Lingchuan on the road, he would absolutely avoid provoking him.

“Eldest Young Master, you’ve got a righteous heart.”

He Lingchuan shook his head. “Not righteous, but guilty. Mao Tao followed me because he wanted a better life.”

“People like us spend our whole lives licking blood from the blade. How many ever die peacefully?” Situ Han sighed. “Everything comes down to fate. Eldest Young Master, you don’t need to blame yourself. There’s an old saying, isn’t there? A clay jar by the well will eventually break.”

He Lingchuan’s brow twitched. In an instant, he remembered the Water Spirit Shrine beside Immortal Spirit Lake.

Mao Tao had drawn a fortune stick there.

And those had been the exact words written on it![2]

That old turtle monster really did have a bit of foresight.

He Lingchuan changed the subject. “You received the letter I had the demoiselle crane deliver, right?”

“I did!” Situ Han nodded repeatedly. “I followed your instructions and searched through Heishui City’s household registers for everyone who moved here within the past eight months!”

1. Just for the sake of possibly being corrected if I’m wrong, the original word here is 差头儿, and I’m simply assuming here that 差吏 (constable/government runner) was just shortened here to 差, while 头儿 simply means boss/leader/head, hence my translation. I’ll explain a bit more in the thoughts section. ☜

2. Note that the words had been: This heart is sincere and true, yet like the clay jar that ever breaks by the well. ☜