Controlling Expectations

"Back when we were in Panlong City, very few people sold flowers on the street. Even when they did, the varieties were few and the prices steep." Panlong City was a somber place, where people rarely indulged in anything nonessential. Even women who loved flowers mostly gathered them outside the city walls. At the end of the day, supplies had been tight, and no one wasted money on fripperies. "For over a year now, you've guarded the Longchuan trade route. Goods flow incessantly between north and south, and flower shops have opened all the way from Yuheng City to Panlong City. Even the number of jewelry shops and tailor shops has more than doubled. If you walk the streets, you'll see so many little shops selling curious novelties never seen before." Only when people were well-fed and warmly clothed did they have the leisure and inclination for such pursuits. Speaking of this, she casually asked He Lingchuan, "By the way, did you know Lady Willow had a suit of General Red's battle armor custom-made?" He Lingchuan blinked. "When was this?" "She only picked it up a few days ago. Supposedly, she commissioned the city's finest smithy, spent several months of her salary and time on it, and revised it through seven or eight drafts. She even had replicas made of several weapons she fancied, until the blacksmith didn't even want her business anymore." Sun Fuling covered her mouth and giggled. "She even tried it on to show us. Every detail looked exactly like General Red's, down to the mask on her face." These girls certainly knew how to have fun. Remembering the replica Yinglong Spear that had surfaced on Platinum Island, He Lingchuan had a rough idea of the mindset behind it. Still, things like imitating armor had never happened in Panlong City before. For now, he was content to turn a blind eye and not bother. "Ah, I've strayed from the point," Sun Fuling said with a smile. "What I meant was, whenever you feel troubled, look back at what you've accomplished. You've already done remarkably well." "Not enough. Far from enough." He Lingchuan drew a long breath, filling his lungs with a creamy floral fragrance. Master Sun seemed quite fond of gardenias. "People are always swept along by outside forces," Sun Fuling said gently. "Common folk are swept along by fate, and someone in high standing like you is swept along by circumstances. As I see it, no matter how exalted or powerful someone is, no one can truly do as they please." He Lingchuan's mind stirred. "Are you talking about me, or Fu Shanlie?" Fu Shanlie and Yu Zecheng were both shackled by rank and tied down by performance metrics, while He Lingchuan was gradually becoming constrained by public sentiment and popular will. As long as people remained in their respective niches, an invisible rope bound every one of them. Master Sun said as if it were obvious, "Both of you, of course." "And what about you?" He Lingchuan took her hand. "What sweeps you along?" "My goodness, turning the question back on me?" Sun Fuling raised her delicate brows. "I'm just an ordinary person, swept along by fate. How could I qualify to share the troubles you people have?" "Master Sun is being too modest. How could you be ordinary?" He Lingchuan smiled broadly. "If you ask me, fate won't be able to hold you down for long!" "Then I'll take Commander He's auspicious words to heart." He Lingchuan asked, seemingly offhand, "If one day—hypothetically speaking—you could break free of fate's shackles, what would you want to do?" "You mean leaving the Panlong Wasteland and this place?" That wasn't quite what He Lingchuan meant, but he said, "Yes!" "Hmm..." Sun Fuling considered it, a look of longing on her face. "I'd want to go to Beijia!" The answer caught He Lingchuan entirely off guard. "Oh? Why?" "I want to see why that nation claims to be the strongest in the world, and why it manages to squeeze Panlong City until it can barely breathe," Sun Fuling said seriously. "Being ten thousand li away right now, only hearing foreign merchants describe Lingxu City as an earthly divine realm, feels like the echo of falling rocks in a deep gorge—loud, yet distant and distorted." "Those merchants are just chasing shadows anyway. How many of them have actually been there to see it with their own eyes?" He Lingchuan laughed. "If Master Sun were to visit in person, the people of Beijia would surely lose sleep." Not to mention more than a hundred and sixty years ago—even the Beijia of his present day was like a magnificent, flourishing saga. Yet He Lingchuan harbored wicked thoughts in his heart, hoping that this saga was entering its final chapter. Sun Fuling playfully spat at him. "Am I really that terrifying?" "It's called awe-inspiringly celestial." In truth, He Lingchuan had assumed her wish would be something like, 'The world is so big, I want to travel around,' but he had never expected her sights to be trained straight on Beijia. Truly worthy of her; her thoughts were nothing like those of an ordinary girl. Sun Fuling suddenly pointed toward the sky. "Looks like you have trouble coming again." He Lingchuan looked up at the sky. Sure enough, he saw a dark shape sweep across the expanse, followed by the fluttering sound of wings. The red kestrel had arrived. He Lingchuan snapped irritably, "What is it this time?" This bird had no tact, constantly swooping in to disrupt things whenever he and Master Sun were having a heart-to-heart lately. The red kestrel puffed out its chest, head held high. "A verbal message from Commander Zhong of Panlong City: within five days, Emperor's Flowing Dew will fall once more. Yuheng City is requested to prepare." "Within five days?" The struggle among the gods seemed rather fierce lately, bringing about the return of spiritual energy to the mortal realm. He Lingchuan snapped his fingers in revelation. "So that's it! Fu Shanlie truly is trying to force my hand!" He had thought it bizarre—why would a hiding tortoise suddenly poke its head out to bite people? As it turned out, Fu Shanlie must have already learned about the Emperor's Flowing Dew and was digging a trap in advance for him to leap into. The red kestrel asked in surprise, "Are you saying Fu Shanlie wants you to launch a sweep on Longchuan? Why would he court death like that?" *Sigh. Back then, I used to just call this guy 'you, you, you,' but now I have to use honorifics.* "He wants to turn the tables," He Lingchuan reasoned, thoughts racing. "If he keeps grinding against me like this, his only option will be to leave with his tail between his legs. Far better to make a desperate gamble now!" The red kestrel was skeptical. "Given the current situation, what could he possibly gain from a gamble?" "That depends on his ambition." He Lingchuan's gaze darkened. "I happen to be somewhat familiar with his temperament and character. A man like that—heh, even if I force him into having no place left to stand, he would never slink away quietly." An old minister of the Chiyan Kingdom had once mentioned to Fu Shanyue that one reason his father disliked him was because Fu Shanyue resembled the old man in his youth far too much. Their tempers were alike, and so were their dispositions. Seeing him was like looking at the old man's younger self—stubborn to the very end, never shedding a tear until seeing the coffin. The death-throes counterattack of a wounded tiger was always the most frenzied. What about Fu Shanlie? "This man cannot be spared, or we will never be able to answer to the people of Yuheng City." He Lingchuan pondered for a moment. "Having clashed with me for over half a year, he assumes my operating style avoids recklessness, and that if I choose to corner and wipe him out, I will pick an opportune moment. Which means..." His strategy toward the Longchuan river bandits had been to advance step by step, nibbling away inch by inch. To maximize results with minimal casualties on one's own side, there was always a cost: time. Regarding Longchuan, He Lingchuan had adopted a relatively conservative approach, even allocating Yuheng City's funds to subsidize the 'route stewards'—the surrendered river bandits. The common people of Yuheng City harbored quite a few grievances about this. Fu Shanlie was capable of noticing all of this, which allowed him to form a basic assessment of He Lingchuan. Sun Fuling nodded, finishing the sentence for him. "The night the Emperor's Flowing Dew descends." The Emperor's Flowing Dew agitated hearts and stirred primal instincts, which might destabilize the morale of the Xiji puppet troops. If He Lingchuan seized that opportunity to launch a surprise attack, his chances of victory would be quite high. Most importantly, Fu Shanlie also had the assistance of numerous demons. If He Lingchuan chose to attack under normal conditions, those demons would sound the alarm. But on the night the Emperor's Flowing Dew fell, they would be too preoccupied with their own affairs, perhaps allowing He Lingchuan to catch the Xiji puppet troops completely off guard. Not to mention that over the past few nights, the moon had been round and massive, illuminating the world as bright as day. Even petty thieves understood that one steals by the wind, not by the moon. An army mounting a night raid certainly disliked operating beneath a bright moon, where they could too easily be spotted in advance by the enemy. Terrain and popular support—He Lingchuan had long held those two advantages; he only lacked the favorable time of heaven. And the arrival of the Emperor's Flowing Dew was the best possible timing. Thinking from his perspective, if Sun Fuling were He Lingchuan, she too would likely pick such an opportune moment, striving to strike down Fu Shanlie in a single blow! "If—hypothetically speaking—Fu Shanlie truly intends to arrange for you to clear Longchuan on the night of the Emperor's Flowing Dew..." She stressed the word "arrange." "...what do you plan to do?" "He's probably prepared a grand spectacle for me that night," He Lingchuan sneered. "It's simple. I'll have to teach him an old adage: eight or nine times out of ten, life does not go one's way." Fu Shanlie was playing an open gambit: he knew He Lingchuan was bound to strike sooner or later, but wanted him to move at a specific time. This was managing expectations. On Suoding Island, this was exactly the game he had played with Yu Zecheng. The result had been that Yu Zecheng was outplayed by the scheming Island Master He, because plans never keep up with changes; the more rigid the plan, the easier it was to blunder. Fu Shanlie wanted him to strike on the night of the Emperor's Flowing Dew? As long as He Lingchuan shattered that expectation, he would be half a step ahead. With that, he planted a kiss on Master Sun's forehead. Sun Fuling was not surprised in the least. "Going out again?" "Yes. I need to head back to the City Guard Office now to convene an emergency meeting." He Lingchuan paused. "See you in a few days?" Sun Fuling lifted her head slightly, seeing the light in his eyes and the resolute determination on his face. In just a few short years, the callow youth who had first entered Panlong City had grown to such heights. She smiled. "All right. I wish you a triumphant return." She knew very well what he was going to do. The moment He Lingchuan stepped out of the quiet courtyard, his expression turned somber. Pulling the door shut behind him, he strode away. Over the next two days, life went on as usual for the residents of Yuheng City. Very few could sense the turbulent undercurrent surging beneath the surface. Daylight waned as the evening glow lit the dusk. He Lingchuan was fastening his gear when he suddenly heard the fluttering sound of wings outside the window. A grey heron had landed in the large tree beside the City Guard Office. "R-reporting!" He tightened his belt. "Speak." "Master Zhang sent word. The patrols at the Xiji military stockade are proceeding as usual tonight, with no abnormalities. It also spotted Fu Shanlie by the water earlier this afternoon." "What else?" Master Zhang was that giant octopus from Lotus Lake in Panlong City, whose ordinary job was testing recruits' physical aptitude, but He Lingchuan had temporarily enlisted its help to scout the Longchuan water stockade. The big fellow could expand and contract its body at will; when stretched out, its tentacles were more than two zhang long, yet when contracted, it could squeeze entirely into a small water vat. It could also change color, making it an expert at stealth and concealment. "And..." This grey heron was a novice, not yet well-versed in its duties. He Lingchuan prompted it, "The number of river bandits?" "Oh, right! Master Zhang says the numbers have decreased, though not conspicuously. However, it counted over twenty boats rowed out over the past few days, and once they left, they never returned." "Over the past few days?" He Lingchuan's brow furrowed. "Why didn't you report this sooner?"