Chapter 429 - 428: A City in an Uproar

Chapter 429: Chapter 428: A City in an Uproar

The characters on the Celestial Book faded away, leaving it blank once more.

The Du Yun Envoy said respectfully, "Monitoring this Divine Artifact for any anomalies is our duty."

The implication was that the Deities should not be blamed.

The Emperor pointed to the Divine Altar. "With that thing?"

"Precisely," the Du Yun Envoy said solemnly. "That is also a Divine Object."

"Send Bai Ziqi. Have him head south tomorrow morning to investigate as quickly as possible." The Emperor turned to leave, his voice indifferent. "Seize the pot, kill the person, and be done with it."

***

Sunx Fuling wasn’t home.

Hee Lingchuan peeked over the wall and saw that her courtyard was also filled with fragrant flowers and plants. Dozens of huge hydrangeas, in particular, nearly filled a corner, bursting forth in an uncommon shade of bluish-purple.

The little courtyard used to be completely bare, so empty a thief would have wept upon seeing it.

The shell wind chimes under the eaves tinkled, as if complaining that their owner had left home again without reason.

But in Hee Lingchuan’s own courtyard, the flowers and plants were still standing tall, and the fish in the pot were lively, not a single one missing. It was clear Sunx Fuling had been coming over regularly to tend to things while he was away.

Hee Lingchuan grabbed two books and headed out. He was going to the Wenxuan Pavilion to return them and, while he was there, look up the history of the Yuanl Kingdom again.

’The devil is in the details. Maybe I’ll find something new.’

Ever since he’d overheard the conversation between the King of Yuanl and his officials, a sense of urgency had taken root in his heart. He was single-mindedly focused on gathering clues as quickly as possible.

Hee Lingchuan had intended to close his eyes and rest during the chariot ride, but the driver was very talkative and immediately started chatting about the "return east."

Only then did Hee Lingchuan learn that in the day or two he’d been gone, news that "the Monarch has ordered the Panlong soldiers and people to return to their homeland" had already spread. It was the hot topic of conversation on every street and in every alley.

Some said they could finally go back, while others called it a conspiracy.

Some were eager to return, while others had no desire to go back at all.

When these arguments were fueled by alcohol, the question of who was right was often decided by the loudest voice and the strongest fist.

As a result, a dozen or so taverns in Panlong City had even seen rare instances of brawls and injuries, all products of inflamed passions.

He saw that the driver was in his early forties. His left sleeve was rolled up, revealing a long scar on his arm.

It was a knife scar. "You used to be a soldier, right? Do you want to go back?"

The driver sighed. "When I was a kid, I lived on Huangzhou Island. We could catch all the fish and shrimp we wanted and take bird eggs from the trees whenever we pleased." He pointed to a large tree by the roadside. "Now, forget about taking eggs. Just try cutting a branch from this tree. You’d probably get a few lashes."

"Look at the young folks in the city—they don’t want to go back," the driver added. "They’ve lived here their whole lives and think the Panlong Wasteland is the best place on earth. They’ve also heard that our motherland is rife with corruption and that the people are struggling, so they don’t want to go anywhere."

"So you’re eager to go back?"

"I don’t dare." The driver shook his head. "I’ve been away from home for thirty years. If I went back now, I’d be a stranger in a strange land. I hear the motherland is overrun with bandits, so life probably wouldn’t be any better there. Besides, how could the journey home be easy? How many people will die along the way?"

"But isn’t the Baling Kingdom opening the Jinxi Corridor for us? Shouldn’t that make the journey easy?"

"Hah, the Baling Kingdom!" The driver pointed to the scar on his arm. "This is from a Baling man’s blade. I almost lost my arm that day. How many of our good soldier boys have died at the hands of Baling and Xianyou? If you can trust the Baling Kingdom, pigs can fly."

He sighed. "This whole thing... whether we end up going back or not, the entire Panlong Wasteland is going to be in an uproar for a good long while."

On the way, they passed Spirit Island. Fatty Bai was standing at his shop’s entrance, chatting with a customer.

Hee Lingchuan got out of the chariot on a whim to restock on consumables like Sleeve Arrows and medicine.

After taking the money, Bai Guo looked like he wanted to say something but held back. Hee Lingchuan slung an arm around his shoulder and laughed. "Still thinking about that, are you?"

"You really haven’t heard?" Bai Guo sighed. "It’s the talk of the town. Look at the commotion outside. It’s as if we’re all supposed to set off tomorrow."

He’d wanted to get a head start, but he hadn’t managed to.

"Then why aren’t you going back?" Hee Lingchuan shot him a look. The fatty wasn’t telling the truth. "And don’t use your shop as an excuse. You could sell it to someone, or have someone else manage it, and just slip away yourself."

He had learned just how flexible businessmen could be from Shi the Second and his own steward, Ding Zuodong. Could a mere shop really stop Fatty Bai from going back?

Bai Guo was speechless. Wasn’t it because he couldn’t figure out Panlong City’s true intentions? If the news turned out to be false after he’d already closed up shop, what would he do then? Without the protection of the Panlong City Army, who knew how many disasters they’d face on the road home? Who could guarantee they’d even make it through the Baling Kingdom’s Jinxi Corridor?

But his claim that it was "the talk of the town" was no exaggeration. With his sharp hearing, Hee Lingchuan could hear guests at two tables on the second floor of the teahouse across the street also discussing the return east.

It really was the biggest news story right now.

Hee Lingchuan patted Bai Guo’s shoulder. "Just calm down and keep your shop open. We’re definitely not leaving."

Bai Guo started. "How do you know? Do you have inside information?"

Hee Lingchuan gave him a mysterious smile. "That’s a secret."

’What a load of crap,’ he thought. ’I’m from the future. Of course I know the people of Panlong City never left the Panlong Wasteland before its destruction.’

’Although the Dream Realm’s path might not perfectly align with history, I don’t recall anything major happening yet that could change the main storyline.’

’So, most likely, no one here is going anywhere.’

A thought struck him.

’If the Xiluo Kingdom really did issue a Relocation Command and the Panlong soldiers and people obeyed the order to return east, could they escape their ultimate fate of being slaughtered?’

The thought grew like a weed in his mind, unstoppable.

He wasn’t sure when it started, but he had begun to worry about this city and its residents, resisting the arrival of its final moments with all his heart.

He had been a witness to the final moments of Thousand Star City’s fall.

The horror, hopelessness, and tragic grandeur of it were impossible to describe in mere words.

Hee Lingchuan desperately didn’t want Panlong City to follow the same disastrous path. After all, this city was giving him a growing sense of belonging.

Getting back into the chariot, Hee Lingchuan decided to make a stop at the Economic Revitalization Bureau.

He had saved up enough military merit again, and this time he wanted to redeem it for a Spear Technique.

"An inch longer is an inch stronger." After the battle at the Hanhe River, he had a much deeper understanding of this saying. There would surely be many opportunities for mounted combat in the future, and while the Floating Life Blade was good, it was still a short-range weapon.

He had seen the Spear Technique of the Red General, Xiao Maoliang, Hong Chenglu, and even Zhao Pan, and was filled with envy.

The name of the Spear Technique he redeemed from the Bureau was simple and unadorned: "Thunderbolt Spear Skill." The idea was that a spear thrust should be like a clap of thunder—not just fast, but also carrying the might of a lightning strike.

With his growing combat experience, Hee Lingchuan deeply understood that "in all of martial arts, only speed is unbeatable" was a paradox. Didn’t a hummingbird’s wings beat quickly? What threat was that to a person? On a hot day, it might even fan you a bit.

Speed, stability, accuracy, and ruthlessness. Fast but not lacking in power—that was the true essence of victory.

He had just memorized the Spear Mantra and was about to hand the Jade Scroll back to Registrar Liu when a guard came running in. CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP. "Which one of you is Hee Lingchuan?"

"That’s me."

"The Red General orders you to report to Gangge Hall for duty immediately."

’A mission?’ Hee Lingchuan dropped the Jade Scroll and followed the messenger out.

Gangge Hall was one of the places where the high command of Panlong City discussed important military affairs. Not only was it off-limits to ordinary people, but even Great Wind Soldiers could only enter if they had a token.

Hee Lingchuan followed the messenger north through the Government Office, soon passing Zhong Shengguang’s residence.

Gangge Hall was built behind his residence, making it convenient for the city’s leader to call meetings at a moment’s notice.

There wasn’t a single green plant in sight. The ground was made of bluestone, as were the walls, making the space feel empty and cold. It was called a hall for discussion, but to Hee Lingchuan, it felt more like a prison. The moment he stepped inside, a grim, austere feeling washed over him.

The actual meeting area consisted of two halls, one large and one small. Their exteriors were square, built so precisely that all the seams were filled.

Even a pale green grasshopper landing on the wall was conspicuous.

And as soon as it landed, it slid to the ground. Apparently, the building itself was protected by a Barrier that prevented living creatures from lingering on its surfaces.

There used to be trees in the courtyard—the stumps were still thick—but they had been cut down.

Trees made it easy to hide people, or other things. After all, the methods of eavesdropping in this world were endlessly varied.

Hee Lingchuan noticed the Barriers the moment he entered. There were several layers. Anyone who tried to force their way in or sneak past would definitely trigger an alarm.

Just by looking at these arrangements, he knew that any topic brought to Gangge Hall was bound to be serious.

The messenger stopped at the entrance to the small hall and went no further. "Wait here." He turned and left.

His task was complete, and he was not permitted to enter the hall.

Even the wind that blew into Gangge Hall felt colder. Hee Lingchuan had not been standing there long when a few more Great Wind Soldiers arrived.

Then, Zhong Shengguang and the Red General appeared.

The Red General casually pointed to two soldiers, one of whom was Hee Lingchuan. "You two, on duty inside the hall." Then she addressed the others, "The rest of you will stand guard outside."

Everyone acted according to the order.

Hee Lingchuan entered the small hall. It was only about fifty square meters, and most of the space was taken up by a large Sand Table in the center, so it could accommodate twenty people at most.

The Red General stood by the Sand Table and made a few adjustments. The loose sand began to pile up into shapes as hills, mountains, lakes, rivers, and valleys appeared one by one. In just a few minutes, the sand model was complete.

From Hee Lingchuan’s vantage point, he could just make out a majestic plateau and a stone forest that looked like a thousand sails—

The Chipa Plateau and Second Madam Zhu’s lair, the Ghost Needle Stone Forest, were both on the Sand Table.

The Red General was wearing a mask again.

This time it was an eagle-headed mask, tri-colored in brown, gold, and red. The craftsmanship was just as exquisite, and the style was similarly abstract.

He had to admit, the Red General’s aesthetic taste was always on point. Hee Lingchuan was very curious—who in the world made her masks?

Zhong Shengguang also stood by the Sand Table, looking down at the miniaturized Panlong City.

There was a vertical line between his brows, the result of frequent frowning.

The Commander-in-Chief of the Panlong Wasteland. The responsibilities and burdens represented by that title were more than an ordinary person could bear.

Moreover, Hee Lingchuan remembered King Yuan’s charge. The "scourge" that had brought the mighty Yuanl Kingdom to its sorrowful end was now with Zhong Shengguang. If that secret were ever leaked, the consequences would be unimaginable. That alone must place an incredible psychological burden on him.