Chapter 101: Governor-General He's Road to Ascension He was training his aim.
Years of martial arts training had given him steady hands, but after shooting a few arrows, he found his accuracy to be absolutely dismal. Twice, he even missed the target completely.
It turned out that that one miraculous throw in the Panlong Desert—the flying dagger that had saved his father—had really been dumb luck. No, it was not he who was lucky, but He Chunhua. The father had been truly lucky to have not been killed outright by his son’s dagger.
Yet He Lingchuan was undaunted. He recalled Hu Min’s arrows, precise and effortless as if guided by thought. That kind of skill could not have been honed overnight.
After fifty draws of the bow, his shoulders and arms were sore. He set it aside, smoothed out his breath with a cycle of true qi, and turned to saber training, something he had long itched to do since waking up.
Closing his eyes, he replayed in his mind every clash of steel and desperate struggle from the night before.
Every parry, every dodge, every wound he received, every counterattack that he landed, as well as... every kill.
In that dream, he had slain six foes himself and wounded or assisted in felling nineteen others.
At this moment, the images surfaced in his mind with startling clarity, each one frozen, magnified, laid out for him to study. He could calmly tally every success and dissect every mistake.
He even remembered Officer Xiao’s blade—sharp, merciless, decisive, without an ounce of hesitation. He also recalled Meng Shan, charging headlong into fire and steel without flinching, his ferocity so overwhelming that even Officer Xiao dared not test him directly.
He Lingchuan felt as if he had been thrust right back into the battlefield.
When he came to, he had finished a full set of drills with the saber. His saber intent flowed seamlessly, and many of the obscure points that had long puzzled him now stood revealed as if lit by sudden dawn.
Just then, a sweet osmanthus blossom drifted down. He slashed at it, stopping the blade a mere three centimeters away.
The flower seemed to pause in midair before falling again along its natural arc, unscathed.
The servant watching from the corner of the yard winced. But He Lingchuan looked pleased, even allowing himself a faint smile.
The force of a moving blade raised a wind. Hence, the faster the strike, the stronger the wind. The osmanthus flower had hovered less than several centimeters from the edge, yet it had not been disturbed. That was true progress.
He had even begun to cultivate a touch of saber qi. Still, controlling its release and retraction at will was far harder than it sounded. There was still a long road before he could turn what was an external power into something intrinsic.
Still, when did my memory become this sharp? How am I able to recall every detail of last night, replaying the scenes frame by frame, savoring them like this? Come to think of it, both times I was brought into those dreams, I could remember everything. Is this a gift from the broken saber? So, he alternated, training with a bow, then a saber, then a bow again.
By the time the sun was dipping toward the west, a servant ventured a reminder, “Young Master, don’t forget the madame’s instructions.”
Her instructions? Ah, right, the invitations. He Lingchuan had to think for a while before recalling. He was supposed to deliver them to the notables of Heishui City’s upper circles, inviting them to tomorrow’s banquet.
Whenever an official rose in rank, colleagues and acquaintances would call to congratulate him. The host, in return, was expected to put on a lavish feast with music and entertainment. This was called a “Tail-Burning Banquet[1].” Since He Chunhua had risen swiftly with great merit, this banquet naturally had to be done in full splendor.
He set aside his training, bathed, and set about the task.
By the time He Lingchuan had finished delivering the invitations and returned home, the bright moon was already hanging high in the sky.
He Lingchuan glanced at the broken saber hanging on the wall. As he lay down to sleep, a small thrill stirred in his chest. He actually hoped that tonight he might once more dream his way back to Panlong.
He longed to know the outcome of the battle at the riverbed.
But alas, that night passed without a dream.
* * *
Three days slipped by in a blink.
With Commandery Administrator He’s promotion, Heishui City was as lively as though there were a festival. Even the servants of the He Family, when they went out, were treated like stars surrounded by adoring crowds.
Visitors poured into the He Family’s residence, mainly comprised of well-wishers and gift-bearers. There were so many of them that the doorsill was nearly worn flat.
Most of them were received by He Yue, since He Chunhua was occupied with the weightier task of finalizing the roster for his personal guard.
The Heishui City’s garrison numbered some thirteen hundred men in total, but he could not possibly strip the city bare. In the end, he handpicked three hundred.
These three hundred elites would form the foundation of his power in Xia Province. In such matters, loyalty was more important than raw skill.
Among the chosen were three senior officers, one of them being Zeng Feixiong.
He Lingchuan was surprised. He did not expect a filial son such as Zeng Feixiong to actually be willing to march north with them. However, a little digging revealed the truth: Zeng Feixiong’s father had passed away five days earlier. In his final moments, he had regained his clarity, and father and son were able to speak heart to heart at last.
Zeng Feixiong had fulfilled his duty, seen his father buried, and with no ties left behind, he had no reason to cling to Heishui City.
In fact, one of He Chunhua’s main criteria in picking guards was that they be young, vigorous, and unmarried. A soldier unburdened by family could march swiftly. Dragging wives and children along would only slow the column to a crawl.
Aside from the guards, He Chunhua also brought along several advisers.
Madame Ying busied herself with settling wages and dismissing household staff. Except for the old steward, the He Family took only two personal attendants on the road—one man, one woman—both of them loyal servants who had been in the household for seven or eight years.
Everything was kept simple. Once they reached their new posting, they would hire fresh help as needed.
Uncle Hao had wanted to accompany them to Xia Province, but He Chunhua instructed him to remain in Heishui City for the time being to oversee the family’s properties. He was to join them in three to five months.
He Lingchuan also met with Situ Han. The sand bandits, however, would obviously not be coming.
“We can’t go. Our families are all here, and they depend on us,” Situ Han explained. By now, he and his fellows had been incorporated into the city garrison. With the security of royal rations, they had settled into a more comfortable life and had no wish to gamble on the dangers of Xia Province.
Who did not know that war awaited them there? If one could live in peace, who would choose to march into blood and fire? Situ Han gave Mao Tao a shove forward. “Only this fool insists on going with you. Nothing I say will change his mind. He’s as reckless as ever.”
He Lingchuan blinked and asked, “What about your wife? Isn’t she in Heishui City?”
“We split yesterday. She slapped me twice for good measure.” Mao Tao grinned, entirely unfazed. “I hear the girls in Xia Province have bigger, brighter eyes than the coarse women here. And with those endless fertile plains, why cling to one scrappy little patch of dirt?”
So, counting families and necessary support staff, the final tally of He Chunhua’s expedition came to over four hundred and thirty.
Stepping out of his gates, He Lingchuan was startled to see Liu Baobao waiting for him, a box in his hands. “Young Master, here’s what you asked me to procure. Take it as a farewell gift.”
Curious, He Lingchuan opened it and found several large bottles filled with fine, white powder.
“Uh...” To his eye, this looked suspiciously like contraband. “Did I really tell you to get something like this?”
No, impossible. I’m an upstanding youth! “Didn’t you say you wanted a medicine that stops pain instantly without hindering movement?” Liu Baobao pointed to the powder. “This is it. It’s called Stone Lump Powder.”
Relieved, He Lingchuan accepted it with delight.
Liu Baobao beamed and bowed. “When you soar to glory one day, Young Master, don’t forget the friends you had in this border city.”
“Of course!” He Lingchuan promised readily.
That very morning, the He Family’s four-hundred-strong entourage drank their parting tea, bade farewell to the cityfolk, and under the cheers of crowds lining the streets, departed Heishui City to march north.
[End of First Arc] 1. These were opulent banquets that newly promoted officials in Tang–Song China held to mark their advancement. However, the name likened the event to the burning fox’s tail, reminding that officialdom was as much about social display as about political responsibility. So, beyond the literal banquet, it also carried a cautionary tone about ambition and over-display. ☜