Chapter 118: Goal: Resolve the Calamity As if having read his eldest son’s thoughts, He Chunhua continued in a soothing tone, “Even if the Water Spirit truly has some power, that doesn’t mean it hits the mark every time.”
He Yue happened to arrive just in time to hear this. He quickly chimed in, “Exactly, the shrinekeeper even said it himself, there are times when the Water Spirit is wrong. It’s possible that it might be facing a calamity of its own, unable to divine even its own fate?”
“Haah, I guess that’s possible.” He Lingchuan drew a long breath. “Whatever, there’s no need to keep comforting me. I understand.”
“Big Brother...”
“I said enough!” He Lingchuan snapped, cutting him off sharply. “Stop annoying me!”
He Chunhua thought nothing of his eldest son’s fiery temper as he understood where the other party was coming from, but Madame Ying stepped out and reproached him, “How can you speak that way? Your brother only meant well!”
He Lingchuan turned on his heel and strode off.
He Chunhua raised a hand to mediate. “That’s enough, he’s in a foul mood. Don’t hold it against him.”
He Lingchuan’s thoughts were in an utter mess.
He recalled Nian Songyu’s final words. “You are not far from death!” At the time, it had been the so-called “god” speaking through Nian Songyu’s lips. He Lingchuan had dismissed it as nothing more than a dying curse.
But what if the “god” had truly seen something?
After all, he was its first choice to take as host. It was only that it had failed to truly take hold of He Lingchuan, getting expelled from his sea of consciousness.
The sudden change of his surroundings, that street corner in the illusion, the mark glowing faintly behind the cracked wall...
That “god” had been driven from his sea of consciousness by some unknown force. He had never forgotten that scene.
Was that the power of calamity? Could the past events, along with these two very inauspicious lots given to me by the Water Spirit, all be connected together? A sense of urgency he had never felt since his crossing surged through him, knotting his heart into a tangled mess.
Just then, a guard came running over with a report for He Chunhua.
After listening, He Chunhua immediately beckoned to his eldest son. “They’ve pried out some information! Chuan’er, come with me.”
Hearing this, He Lingchuan had no choice but to return.
“Look around you. Right now, the greater matter takes precedence. Destroying these brigands is our top priority! Moreover, if disaster truly hangs over your head, then perhaps tonight is the very trial. Are brigands thirsting for blood not calamity enough? As long as we make it safely out of Immortal Spirit Lake, the shadow of ill fate will disperse on its own!” He Chunhua held his son’s shoulders firmly. “Chuan’er, you must trust me, and trust the grand shaman. Do you understand?”
He Lingchuan met his father’s gaze, drawing a deep breath. “I understand, Father.”
If only it were truly that simple.
“The Water Spirit plays at divinity, but it must have some scheme of its own,” He Chunhua said gravely. “It would not do these things without reason. Believing its words will only torment you needlessly.”
He Lingchuan nodded silently.
With that, He Chunhua summoned everyone back toward their main lodging.
On the way, He Lingchuan’s mind remained a mess. If the Water Spirit’s baleful omen really did come true, did that mean he would die miserably in some far-off land, just as Nian Songyu had?
. And if there was still a sliver of hope, where would he find it?
From this day forward, he would have to guard his life at every step, and seek a way to break free of this curse—if curse it truly was.
The most terrifying aspect of the Water Spirit’s divination was that it warned a traveler wandering in the dark of night about a fatal chasm ahead, but it never specified how far the chasm was.
This meant that every step he took from now on would be shadowed by dread.
Alas, before leaving Heishui City, he really should have paid a visit to Grand Shaman Zhaomandu. If he had, perhaps he might have learned something of value. But at the time, as a traveler from another world, he had been too uneasy. He had only wanted to stay as far away from that mysterious elder as possible.
* * *
From the kitchen came muffled groans and whimpers. The village cottages were poorly soundproofed. Hence, even with his mouth gagged, Fatty Wang’s pained moans could be clearly heard by everyone.
The poor fool had truly run out of luck.
Not long after, the sound of water being splashed drifted from within.
Then, Zhao Qinghe stepped out and reported, “My lord, the situation is dire.”
He Chunhua pulled up a chair and sat down. “Speak.”
“Two days ago, the brigands did seize a nearby town. However, it wasn’t Qianteng Town, but Desheng Town! That lies only twenty kilometers from Immortal Spirit Village. And the brigands who were occupying it weren’t two hundred strong, but a thousand and two hundred!”
A thousand and two hundred! The revelation shook them all. He Yue murmured, “That’s nearly the size of a regular army.”
He Lingchuan had expected at most two or three hundred. They would still have a fair chance at victory if they were only facing two or three hundred brigands.
But if the forces from Desheng Town and Immortal Spirit Village were combined, their numbers neared a thousand and five hundred!
Forget a single town, if those brigands had enough discipline, they could very likely take a city. Caught unprepared, any ordinary city garrison would fall in the face of such a force.
Yet these were only the opening lines. The rest of the information was even more chilling.
“They’re Buxin men. They drifted south along the river from Woling Pass. They’re not common brigands, but remnants of the rebels! They’re routed troops!”
The information surrounding Woling Pass flashed across He Lingchuan’s mind like a bolt of lightning.
Every trouble the He Family had run into lately seemed to circle back to Woling Pass!
These men were deserters, fleeing from the battlefield there.
Only after returning from the Panlong Desert had he learned the truth of what had happened at Woling Pass: the state troops had won, the rebel leader slain, and the rest of the army scattered.
At the very same time, the Minister of War in the capital launched a coup, attempting to seize power.
Of course, the troops at Woling Pass had to march back immediately to defend the throne, leaving the routed rebels to run free.
And Woling Pass lay less than a hundred kilometers from here. Judging by their direction, it was right on the rebels’ line of retreat.
Everything fit together.
Zhao Qinghe continued, “That so-called Boss Lu is not Lu Han, but Lu Yao.”
At the name, He Chunhua slapped the table and leapt to his feet. “You mean Lu Yao, the left banner general under the rebel leader Hong Xiangqian?”
“Exactly, it’s that very Lu Yao.”
Hands clasped behind his back, He Chunhua paced the room in agitation. Such a display was absolutely rare for him.
He Lingchuan nudged He Yue with an elbow. “How many generals does that rebel have under him?”
Hong Xiangqian’s name, He Lingchuan at least knew. The man had led his forces five hundred kilometers north, seized Woling Pass, and shaken the realm of Great Yuan to its core.
In the northern and western regions of Yuan, common folk painted him as a monster with a blue face and tusks, a savage fiend who drank human blood and flayed skin alive, leaving parched earth in his wake.
Of course, that was the Royal Court of Yuan’s propaganda campaign. But when He Lingchuan heard it, he could not help but wonder if the man truly was some kind of drought demon reborn.
As for the generals under Hong Xiangqian, the old He Lingchuan had only vague impressions of them. Now, that lack of basic knowledge stung.
He Yue whispered, “At the start, there were four of them. At their peak, there were fourteen. After their defeat, only five made it off the battlefield. And Left Banner General Lu Yao more than deserves the words utterly vicious. He’s a real cannibal demon, said to favor the stir-fried hearts of children under five. He even praised them as the finest, tastiest delicacy in the world. Rumor has it he published a cookbook of his own, Fifty Recipes for Two-Legged Sheep.”