For a thousand years, Hanyang Pass had been one of the world's most renowned fortresses. During the years of protracted warfare in the Shattered Lands, it was ultimately Hanyang Pass that had halted the eastward advance of the Shaman host.
The pass's greatest lethal weapon was none other than eight colossal ballistas capable of firing ten thousand zhang. Specially enchanted, their maximum range could be tripled—though a single such shot would expend all the dharmic powers of a Dharma Idol cultivator.
Despite the enormous expenditure, the enchantment placed a two-hundred-li radius around Hanyang Pass within their coverage, allowing this several-hundred-li-wide expanse of open terrain to be completely locked down if necessary.
It was also by relying on Hanyang Pass that the Xu family had previously cut off all traffic between east and west, not letting a single flying boat pass through. To prevent mishaps on his return to Qingming, Wei Yuan had been forced to detour through Zhao, flying an extra two hundred thousand li.
Lately, more and more displaced refugees had sought to exit the pass. Ill-informed, the refugees had only heard that the Western Regions were now peaceful and that porridge was being handed out along the roads, so they swarmed toward it in droves. Word of the Karma Great Curse had not spread widely, and even if the refugees had heard of it, they would not understand.
At any given time, tens of thousands of refugees were stranded in Hanyang Pass. At dawn, crowds would line up outside the city gates, waiting to leave. Yet for some reason, exit inspections had tightened drastically over the past few days, letting only a few hundred people through in an entire day. At the slightest sign of clamor, the garrison soldiers lashed them savagely with whips, and some were even beaten to death on the spot.
Countless refugees were stranded inside the pass, while an endless stream poured in from the eastern interior, swelling their numbers by the day.
Inside the garrison commander's office, Fan Donghe listened to his subordinate's report with deeply knitted brows, then proceeded into the inner residence. The guards led him straight into the rear courtyard, where an old man stood beside an ornamental pond, watching the fish.
Fan Donghe bowed and said, "Greetings, Elder Chunyuan."
The old man took a handful of fish food and scattered it slowly. Brocade carp roiled in layers within the pond, fighting over the scarce feed. The old man said leisurely, "What brings Garrison Commander Fan here? Surely it isn't over those refugees again?"
Fan Donghe said, "In yesterday alone, more than five hundred corpses of refugees were counted within the pass. The refugees inside are multiplying, yet the porridge rations we dispense have been cut in half. If this goes on for a few more days, I fear over a thousand will die every day!"
The old man's eyelids lifted slightly. "What, is Garrison Commander Fan feeling heartache?"
A flash of anger crossed Fan Donghe's face, but he knew he was an outsider with a different surname, while the elder before him was Xu Chunyuan, two generations senior even to Xu Zhongxing. After Xu Zhongxing was imprisoned, Xu Chunyuan had taken over as Pacification Commissioner.
Upon assuming office, Xu Chunyuan's first act had been to purge Xu Zhongxing's confidants en masse. Many deputy generals, vice generals, and captains were reassigned to guard the gates, build barracks, or even shovel latrines.
As a Dharma Idol cultivator with formidable combat prowess, Fan Donghe was treated with superficial courtesy by Xu Chunyuan. Fan Donghe was tactful enough to surrender most of his military and financial authority, retaining command only over the two thousand veteran soldiers who had always followed him.
Yet on the matter of the refugees, the rift between them grew ever wider.
Hearing Xu Chunyuan's words, Fan Donghe said, "Elder Chunyuan, we used to let several thousand or even tens of thousands through each day, and now we've suddenly choked it down to a few hundred. These refugees have neither a copper to their name nor grain for the morrow, surviving entirely on begging and porridge hand-outs along the road. They cannot leave the pass, and we cannot support so many. Now that the porridge has been halved again, isn't this driving them to death?"
Xu Chunyuan said impassively, "Driving them to death is precisely what I intend. If these refugees head west out of the pass, isn't it to defect to Qingming? That is a path to death. Hmph! You used to let people through at will; to put it bluntly, you were aiding the enemy!"
Suppression of his fury straining his voice, Fan Donghe said, "Elder, if this continues, I fear it will incite a popular revolt."
"A revolt?" A sneer surfaced on Xu Chunyuan's gaunt face. "Even if tens of thousands of refugees in the pass rise up together, are your two thousand veterans unable to defeat them? Mere vermin—it wouldn't take half a night to slaughter them all, would it?"
Fan Donghe took a deep breath. "Elder, since you know they are mere ants and not worth mentioning apart from wasting grain, why not spare them? Even if they join Qingming, won't they be eating Wei Yuan's food? Not long ago, Commandery Governor Yuan of Ningxi Commandery used this very scheme: cutting off grain supplies and herding refugees toward Qingming to weigh Wei Yuan down."
The muscles of Xu Chunyuan's face twitched in what passed for a smile. "I don't care whether Yuan Qingyan's ploy was useful, nor do I care why Wei Yuan wants to take in refugees. I only know one thing: whatever Wei Yuan wants to do, I will ensure he fails! Since Wei Yuan wants to take in refugees, I will not let a single one reach Qingming alive!"
"But these refugees have already arrived here; they cannot turn back! I have already dispatched men along the routes within the pass to urge incoming refugees to turn around. In time, once the spring plowing begins, the flow will dwindle. As for those here now, why not let them out of the pass to fend for themselves? In the Wu domain, they wouldn't survive long anyway."
Xu Chunyuan's eyebrows shot up, a twisted gleam flaring in his eyes as his voice spiked abruptly: "Let them go?! Haha, how could that be possible? Since they cannot turn back, let them die! Anyone who wants to defect to Qingming deserves death!! And I don't mind telling you, every man you sent to turn the refugees back has already been arrested by my orders! I want to see just how many want to go to Qingming—and however many there are, I will slaughter every last one of them!"
The final sentence was ground out through clenched teeth.
Fan Donghe sighed inwardly. Xu Chunyuan's most cherished grandson had died in the war against Qingming, and being a petty, vengeful man, he naturally hated Wei Yuan to the marrow of his bones.
"Elder Xu, to condemn over a hundred thousand refugees to death for the sake of a personal grudge—how can your conscience bear it?"
Xu Chunyuan sneered. "If Lord Fan cannot stomach it, why not hang up your seal and resign? Walking away is easy for you, but you might want to think about your veteran subordinates. What will happen to them once you are gone?"
The veins on Fan Donghe's temples bulged, but in the end he swallowed his anger. "Thank you for the reminder, Elder. This official takes his leave!"
Xu Chunyuan offered a hollow smile. "Safe travels. I won't see you out!"
Returning to his official residence, Fan Donghe picked up the teapot from the table and gulped down more than half of the cold tea in rapid swallows, yet he could not extinguish the fury burning in his chest.
In a sudden burst, he hurled the teapot to the floor, smashing it to pieces!
Terrified into dead silence, the servants and maids scurried far away, none daring to show their faces. This left Fan Donghe with nowhere to vent his wrath, even stirring a murderous impulse within him.
Today was overcast. Though it was midday, the light resembled dusk, and the wind blew chill.
No lamps were lit in the main hall, the study, or the corridors; everywhere lay dark, dreary, and cold.
Fan Donghe did not wish to linger in such a house for another moment. Flicking his sleeve, he decided to walk over to the military camp. Besides, there was another thorny matter: the men he had sent to turn back the refugees had been detained by Xu Chunyuan, and freeing them would likely require considerable maneuvering.
Just as he was about to leave, he froze, then turned around slowly.
Someone else was standing inside the room, gazing at a hanging scroll on the wall.
Earlier, swept up in agitation, Fan Donghe had failed to notice another person present. Had that person not released a sliver of aura, Fan Donghe might have walked right out.
The figure turned. Dressed in a dark robe and cradling a cat in his arms, he smiled faintly. "General Fan, have you been well since we last met?"
"Wei Yuan?!" Fan Donghe took a step back, his aura surging before slowly receding.
"Y-You didn't die?!"
"To General Fan's disappointment, no. Though when I returned a few days ago, I made quite a stir," Wei Yuan replied.
These past few days, Fan Donghe had been overwhelmed by the refugee crisis, leaving him with no attention to spare for affairs in the west. Seeing his foul mood, none of his subordinates had dared invite misfortune by bringing up news of Wei Yuan's return.
Wei Yuan smiled faintly. "It matters not. It's quite normal that General Fan didn't know—in fact, Elder Xu doesn't know either. Reporting only good news while hiding the bad seems to be a tradition of your Xu family."
Fan Donghe lowered his voice. "Since you aren't dead, why didn't you stay put in your domain instead of running over here? Are you tired of living?"
"What I came to do, you will find out soon enough."
Wei Yuan stroked the cat in his arms and said to it, "Watch him here. This fellow still cares about whether the refugees live or die, so he isn't all bad. If a fight breaks out, don't use too much force with your claws—just scratch him half to death."
The cat meowed and licked its paws.
Wei Yuan set the cat on the ground and turned to leave.
The unease in Fan Donghe's heart grew heavier. He called out, "Where are you going?"
"To find a few elders to sacrifice to our banner." Without looking back, Wei Yuan walked straight through the wall and vanished.
Fan Donghe was about to pursue when his hair suddenly stood on end, halting him in his tracks. Slowly turning his head, he saw the cat sitting on its haunches, unsheathing a claw that gleamed with cold light. It pointed once at Fan Donghe, then pointed back toward where he had been standing.
Fan Donghe had recognized the cat. Back on the battlefield, he hadn't thought it particularly formidable, but the feeling it gave off now was far more potent than before, as though imbued with something extraordinary. He actually found himself lacking the will to resist!
Fan Donghe ventured tentatively, "Brother Cat, do you truly wish to make an enemy of me?"
The cat sneered with a meow. With a flick of its tail, it summoned Fan Donghe's sword hanging on the wall, then bared a sharp claw, slicing the dharmic sword into half-inch slivers stroke by stroke, as if chopping scallions.
Any thought of making a move was completely extinguished in Fan Donghe's mind.
***
In the rear garden of the garrison commander's office, Xu Chunyuan strolled into the warm pavilion. Inside, maids had already arranged a table of wine and dishes, while wine was being warmed over a red clay stove nearby. Though the outside was gloomy and chill, the pavilion was as warm as spring. Over a dozen candle flames illuminated the interior brightly, banishing all gloom from the heart.
Xu Chunyuan settled into the head seat and swept his gaze over the dishes on the table.
Today's lunch was a casual meal, consisting merely of eight large bowls, eight small bowls, six side dishes, and an earthen pot of slow-simmered soup. Yet several of the dishes were Xu Chunyuan's favorites, which pleased him considerably. More than half the personnel in the garrison commander's office had been replaced; only several of Xu Zhongxing's personal maidservants and cooks had been retained.
At that moment, the door of the warm pavilion swung open, and someone lifted the curtain and stepped in, ushering in a draft of bleak, icy wind. This person's entrance was ill-timed indeed, and the chilly draft was a complete mood killer.
Staring into his wine cup, Xu Chunyuan barked without raising his head, "Get out!"
The person who had entered said nothing. The door remained open, and cold wind continued to billow in, gust after gust.
Xu Chunyuan still did not look up. A droplet of wine suddenly floated from his cup and slashed through the position where the intruder stood like lightning, darting back and forth several times in an instant! Whether the intruder was a maid or a steward, they would be pierced repeatedly and riddled like a hornet's nest.
Yet Xu Chunyuan suddenly sensed something amiss—the wine droplet had hit nothing at all! He finally raised his head, only to find the spot where the person should have been standing empty. There was no one there.
Looking around, he finally noticed that someone was indeed sitting at the table.
The man was seated right beside his right hand, yet as to when he had entered or when he had sat down, Xu Chunyuan was entirely unaware. What was more, though his eyes saw him sitting there, his senses reported that the seat was still vacant, as if this person did not exist in the world at all.
A chill gripped Xu Chunyuan's heart, though he kept his composure outwardly. Scrutinizing the man, he cried out involuntarily, "Wei Yuan!"
Even if he had never met him in person, every elder had seen Wei Yuan's portrait. Xu Chunyuan immediately glanced left and right, looking to see how many assassins Wei Yuan had brought along.
Wei Yuan smiled faintly. "Elder Xu has advanced in years; it seems your eyesight is truly failing. No need to look—there is no one else here. For just a few Dharma Idols, I have no need for helpers."
Chapter 380