After Zhao Qinghe and the other bodyguards rode forward for several li, they suddenly spotted several dead bodies sprawled across the road ahead, the ground spattered with blood. They couldn't help but be startled.
Dismounting to examine them, the men found that the deceased were all unfamiliar faces; not a single one was recognized.
Weapons lay scattered on the ground as well, though it was impossible to tell whose they were.
His heart burning with anxiety, Zhao Qinghe commanded in a low voice, "Mount up, quickly!"
The dozen or so riders whipped their horses into a gallop, pushing as hard as they could, until at last they caught sight of their convoy ahead.
Refugees were still accompanying them, and everything appeared... all right?
Though Zhao Qinghe and Maotao were somewhat puzzled, the tension gripping their hearts eased.
The convoy seemed entirely normal: the official carriages moved forward in an orderly manner, while the commoners assisted the elderly and led the young. Madam Ying, softhearted as always, had permitted elderly folk who could walk no farther to ride in the carriages, sparing them their strength while keeping the pace from slowing.
Hearing the thud of hooves from behind, the entire column tensed, only breathing a collective sigh of relief once they realized the newcomers were their own men.
He Chunhua and his son He Yue rode out to meet them, but the joy on their faces faded as they took in Zhao Qinghe's group, turning solemn.
Over thirty men had stayed behind to cover the retreat, yet only this handful had returned?
He Lingchuan was not among them.
He Chunhua's voice turned hoarse. "Where is Chuan'er?"
He Yue demanded at the same instant, "Where is my brother?"
"This subordinate is useless." Zhao Qinghe glanced at Maotao. "As we were withdrawing, the Eldest Young Master was struck by a stray arrow. Horse and rider both plummeted off the cliff."
Father and son froze.
A gust of mountain wind blew past, chilling them to the bone.
In utter disbelief, He Chunhua muttered, "That's wrong! How could that be?"
Snapping out of his daze, He Yue yelled, "Nonsense!" and whipped his horse, about to gallop back the way they had come.
Maotao seized his reins. "Second Young Master, you cannot go! The pursuers are right behind us!"
"Let go!" He Yue snarled.
Maotao refused to budge.
He Yue cracked his whip across the man's hand.
Zeng Feixiong rode up from behind and caught He Yue's whip, urgently asking Zhao Qinghe, "If he's alive, we need to see him! Did you see—did you see the Eldest Young Master at the foot of the cliff?"
"No," Maotao shook his head. "I tied a rope around myself and climbed down to search. There was only the horse's carcass, no sign of the Eldest Young Master."
Zeng Feixiong breathed a sigh of relief. "If he's dead, we need a body! Without a corpse, perhaps the Eldest Young Master is still alive. Xianling Lake lies right beneath that cliff!"
Hearing this, hope rekindled in He Yue's eyes.
Catching that look, Zeng Feixiong quickly amended, "...Still, the Eldest Young Master is rather light. Perhaps the mountain wind blew him out into the lake? Who—who can say?"
"It must be so!" He Yue insisted firmly. "There must still be a path back, right? I'm going to find him!"
He Chunhua clamped a hand onto his shoulder. "Focus on the bigger picture! Your brother is fine!"
"Father?" He Yue stared in shock.
He Chunhua's expression was grim, pale and drawn, but he gritted his teeth. "Your brother was born under a lucky star; misfortune will turn to fortune for him! There is no need to worry excessively! Do not run off—we need you here."
"Just because Great Shaman Zhaomandu said he had good fortune, does that mean he doesn't need our help... Father?" He Yue was halfway through his protest when he noticed beads of cold sweat dotting He Chunhua's brow and his ragged breathing, giving the boy a fright.
His brother had fallen off a cliff; his father couldn't afford to have anything happen to him as well.
He Chunhua grabbed his arm, his voice harsh and commanding: "He is fine! Do you hear me?"
The Prefect's facial muscles contorted. "He will turn misfortune into good luck. Do you understand?!"
The last three words were practically roared.
It was the first time He Yue had ever seen his father lose control like this. He nodded instinctively.
He Chunhua pointed toward the convoy of wagons, his voice squeezed through gritted teeth. "Go back!"
He Yue had no choice but to turn his horse around and head back, looking over his shoulder every few paces.
He Chunhua remained facing the road, leaving He Yue to see only his father's back.
Meanwhile, Zhao Qinghe gulped down several mouthfuls of fresh water. Having spent the entire night fighting, he hadn't had a single chance to wet his throat. When Zeng Feixiong walked over, Zhao Qinghe quickly asked, "Why were there dead bodies on the road back there?"
"Lu Yao's bandits," Zeng Feixiong replied in a hushed voice. "His Lordship foresaw that Pei Xinyong might slip up while intercepting the ambushers at Shaozi Crag, so he specifically dispatched us to cut them off, preventing them from slipping east and causing you trouble."
At the time, the Eldest Young Master had been leading men to hold the West Mountain road; if a pack of bandits had suddenly emerged at their rear, their defense might indeed have crumbled. Zhao Qinghe sighed. "Lord He is truly foresighted."
"I took over a hundred brothers and looped around behind Shaozi Crag. Sure enough, we intercepted those twenty or thirty bastards in the woods and cut the last few down on the mountain road. They were like birds startled by the twang of a bowstring—not hard to kill," Zeng Feixiong spat with venom. "It's just such a shame about the Eldest Young Master. *Sigh!*"
Back in the convoy, Madam Ying asked He Yue, "What happened back there? Have Chuan'er, Zhao Qinghe, and the others returned?"
"Mother..." He Yue felt as though a thousand-jin weight were pressing down on his chest, so heavy he could barely muster the strength to open his mouth.
***
Not far away, Wu Shaoyi gradually caught his breath and opened his eyes, only to see He Lingchuan crawling out of the giant turtle's belly, covered in gore.
The moment He Lingchuan emerged, he panted violently for air.
The inside of a turtle's belly was truly no place for a human—stuffy, foul-smelling, and suffocating to the point he could hardly draw breath.
Watching He Lingchuan approach, Wu Shaoyi asked, "Did you get it?"
"Yeah." Just now, inside an unspeakable part of the turtle's belly, He Lingchuan had felt eight smooth, spherical objects. Bringing the candlelight closer, he had seen a gleam of pure white peeking through the smeared blood.
If they were *that* kind of ball, there would only be two, so he was fairly certain these were the "pearls" the crocodile demon had mentioned.
Besides the eight pearls, he had carved off several slabs of meat while he was at it. This turtle demon had lurked in the lake absorbing the essence of the sun and moon for who knew how many years; surely it wouldn't be wrong to call every part of it a treasure? Even if he had no idea what to use it for yet.
If the crocodile demon, the crabs, and the water rats could feast on the turtle demon's flesh, then he certainly had the right to take some too. All living beings were equal, after all; why should he be discriminated against?
He thanked nature for its bounty, and thanked the generous Water Spirit for offering up its body as alms.
He Lingchuan pondered for a moment, then circled around to the turtle's tail and sawed away for quite a while.
"Like nourishes like," as the saying went. To certain people, *this* was the true sovereign tonic, bound to fetch a handsome price.
He was even plotting to sweep the whole board clean: the turtle shell shouldn't go to waste either, and he would come back to collect it once he had free time in the future.
"There was a core in the turtle's head, but the crocodile demon ate it," Wu Shaoyi murmured. "Scaled beasts form pearls. Your luck isn't bad."
The so-called scaled beasts referred to turtles, snakes, lizards, crocodiles, and their kin. People often said that carp could transform into dragons, but in truth, given the right fortune and opportunity, scaled beasts could likewise transform into flood dragons or true dragons.
Just like dragons, their bodies could coalesce an origin pearl.
Origin pearls were different from demon cores. Every demon that achieved success in cultivation formed a core, but origin pearls were produced only by scaled beasts, clams, and shellfish.
He Lingchuan looked closely at Wu Shaoyi's wounds. "They've stopped bleeding, and your complexion looks a bit better too."
Wu Shaoyi's face even had a faint flush of color. Looked at favorably, it was the effect of the pill; looked at unfavorably, it was the final radiance of a dying man whose time had nearly run out.
"I need to rest a bit more to gather my strength before I can go ashore with you."
Chapter 129