Songyang Mansion

This time, there were no novel encounters in the dream; neither Hu Min nor A'luo was around. He simply strolled about Panlong City for a bit before returning to his small wooden cabin to practice archery and saber technique. Meditating and regulating his breath in the dream did not advance his cultivation in reality. However, the proficiency accumulated from honing his martial skills remained synchronized with reality—he did not lose it upon waking. When He Lingchuan confirmed this, he was overjoyed, for it meant he had at least twice as much time as an ordinary person to practice martial arts, split between reality and dreams. He had also heard the old tale of the Yellow Millet Dream, where a traveler fell asleep while millet was cooking and dreamed through the entire second half of his life. He too wished that a single day in the Panlong dreamscape could be extended indefinitely, until all his techniques became second nature. However, that was mere wishful thinking. No matter how much he yearned for it, he seemed able to stay in the dream for only a dozen-odd double-hours. He Lingchuan had also noticed that entering and leaving the Panlong dreamscape on a regular basis seemed to have begun after he broke into the immortal's grotto estate. In the months prior to that, he had only entered the dream twice in total. Of course, the true origin of it all started with the broken saber. Yet what had the divine bone necklace done to the immortal's grotto estate to make the latter shut down immediately, while the Panlong dreamscape began opening regularly to He Lingchuan? Right, there was also the black talisman obtained from Lu Yao, which he had fed to the divine bone necklace as well. What was this—a reward? Did this mean that any strange objects he found in the future would have to be tasted by the divine bone first? ... The next morning, snow lay a palm-width deep upon the ground, and the weather was biting cold. The Zhu family sent someone with an invitation, inviting the He family to attend a welcome banquet for Zhu Xiu'er that evening. "We shouldn't have been so hasty, but Master Zhu knows Governor-General He will not stay long in Shihuan City, so time is of the essence." The messenger remained behind as well. This man was surnamed Liu, a fixer. After taking back his long-lost granddaughter, Zhu Xiyan had turned around and dispatched a fixer to the inn for the He family to command. A so-called "fixer" literally meant someone who helped others get things done. They were not exclusively employed by the Zhu household, but were jack-of-all-trades and know-it-alls throughout Shihuan City, with connections ranging from high officials and noble dignitaries down to the three religions and nine schools at the bottom of society. When prominent families had matters inconvenient to handle in person, they often hired fixers to do them. When outsiders came to Shihuan City, their needs were nothing more than dining, entertainment, trade, or formal visits; an experienced fixer was guaranteed to arrange every single matter flawlessly. Such people existed in Blackwater City as well, where they were known as errand-runners. Knowing that He Chunhua was unfamiliar with the people and surroundings here, the Zhu family had specially sent an all-purpose fellow over, which was exceedingly thoughtful. He Chunhua originally intended to step outside for a walk, but before he could even take a step, Steward Lao Mo brought over several visiting cards. Madam Ying asked in surprise, "Zhu Xiu'er only returned home last night. How does anyone already know our master has arrived in Shihuan City today?" He Chunhua waved his hand. "Nothing strange about it. Yesterday, I sent someone to register with the government offices." He was now a high provincial official. Unless summoned by imperial decree, he was forbidden from privately entering the royal capital. Even when coming to Shihuan City, he had to report immediately; otherwise, the consequences would be severe. Fixer Liu smiled. "This is right at the foot of the Son of Heaven, where news travels faster than anywhere. The first-rank clans already knew last night that the new Governor-General of Xiazhou had recovered Master Zhu's granddaughter; second-rank clans probably learned of it only this morning; and those who receive word after this evening are all below the third rank." It seemed this set of rules was the same everywhere. With He Chunhua and his wife unable to get away, He Lingchuan tossed a silver ingot to Fixer Liu. "I'm new to Shihuan. Take me around for a look." Fixer Liu caught the silver and patted his chest. "With me around, Young Master can treat Shihuan like your own back garden!" The two had just walked out of the inn when Maotao bounded out from who-knew-where, eager to act as He Lingchuan's attendant. "Eldest Young Master, where are we heading to have fun?" The prosperity of Shihuan City had long since made him itch with excitement. "Business first," He Lingchuan told Fixer Liu. "I heard Shihuan is renowned for its craft and smithing. My treasured saber was broken, and finding a skilled craftsman to repair it will be very difficult." Finding a smithy in Shihuan City was easy, but finding an artisan with the finest craftsmanship was tough for an outsider like him. This was where a fixer came in handy. Fixer Liu beamed immediately. "No problem at all! Follow me, Eldest Young Master!" A carriage was already waiting outside the inn entrance. The carriage box was constructed from mahogany boards; without any flashy openwork carvings on the outside, its interior cushions were remarkably comfortable. Three grown men sat facing one another and could even stretch out their legs without feeling cramped. Once the carriage was underway, Fixer Liu began introducing: "Shihuan is one of the auxiliary capitals. Renowned craftsmen are everywhere here, and sects of artifact crafting stand like trees in a forest. But among them, the finest of the fine is undoubtedly Songyang Mansion." Songyang Mansion? The other two indicated they had never heard of it. "Songyang Mansion is also a Daoist sect, founded over fifty years ago. The first mansion master was a prince ennobled by our Great Yuan's founding Emperor Gaozu. He established the sect while holding official rank. His disciples are especially adept at artifact refining, and their wares are hugely popular among military officers and upper-class youths." So Songyang Mansion catered to high society and had semi-official backing; no wonder it could stand undefeated in fiercely competitive Shihuan City. He Lingchuan understood, but smiled and remarked, "I always used to think Daoist sects hid deep in the mountains, shrouded in great mystery. I didn't expect them to open shop right in the bustling marketplace." "What you're talking about are immortal sects—the immortal sects that only exist in legends!" Fixer Liu said offhandedly. "Nowadays, there are only Daoist sects. Aside from the few with ancient, unbroken lineages, none of the aloof Daoist sects can afford to put on airs anymore. Even though both immortal sects and Daoist sects possess divine abilities, do you know the difference between them?" "Do tell." These fixers were indeed slick old hands; give them an opening, and they could talk about anything. "In the past, immortals flew on swords, soared high above, were impervious to all harm, and could claim someone's head from a thousand li away. Who wouldn't worship them on bended knees?" Fixer Liu pointed toward the sky. "Now look at today's martial artists and spellcrafters. At most, they have a few divine abilities, but cut them with a blade and they bleed; lop off their heads and they die. When traveling, they still rely on four hooves to carry them, and none of them can live forever. They can't beat the royal court's armies, and they even scramble to receive court titles... If I may speak disrespectfully, the difference between them and us common folk isn't like the difference between clouds and mud." Maotao nodded repeatedly as he listened. "That makes good sense." When you are no longer powerful enough, you fall from your pedestal. He Lingchuan felt a stir in his heart. Remembering the skeleton inside the immortal's grotto estate at Xianling Lake, he wondered once more about the cause of its death. Looking out from the carriage window, the streets of Shihuan City were far wider than those of Blackwater City, and in neatness and cleanliness, they surpassed it by leagues. The main thoroughfare was even paved with square bluestones, wide enough for at least ten carriages to drive abreast. As a land-and-water hub, half of the royal capital's supplies were transshipped through Shihuan, making trade remarkably thriving. As He Lingchuan observed along the way, buildings stood packed together like fish scales, with no shortage of magnificent, opulent mansions. Beyond the standard establishments every city had—restaurants, taverns, opera houses, and gambling dens—Shihuan City also featured many amusement venues. He Lingchuan noticed a storefront hanging a wooden placard painted with prominent red characters: "Bewitching Formation." It was exceptionally eye-catching. "What's that?" "A maze," Fixer Liu explained to the two country bumpkins. "These are formations set up by spellcrafters and demons for guests to explore and enjoy. Some are even paired with illusion formations containing flowers, birds, insects, and fish. Young ladies love them." He chuckled slyly. "There are also specially crafted formations called 'Soul-Melting Formations.' Inside, songstresses sing and swallows dance—designed purely for grown men like us to amuse ourselves. They're wildly popular; you have to book well in advance! I've seen guests stay inside for two whole days straight, refusing to come out no matter what." Maotao remarked in wonder, "Everything in an illusion formation is fake. How can it compare to a brothel, where you can actually touch and feel?" "You don't understand—sometimes what you can't touch is the very best." Fixer Liu winked. "The women in illusion formations can be as beautiful, as noble, as innocent, or as seductive as your heart desires, provided you have the coin. Can a brothel pull that off?" Maotao listened in rapt fascination, wishing he could leap out of the carriage right that instant to see it for himself. By this time, the carriage had turned off the main thoroughfare into a side street. Though it was called a side street, it was as broad as the main thoroughfare of Blackwater City. The storefronts on both sides had double-wide, four-panel doors at the very least, with signboards polished gleaming bright. "This entire street is lined with storefronts opened by artifact sects." Fixer Liu pushed the carriage door open. "Here we are at Songyang Mansion's flagship shop. It's been open the longest." He Lingchuan stepped down and looked. Mm, grand indeed. "How many shops does Songyang Mansion have in Shihuan City?" "Two," Fixer Liu added. "And three more in the royal capital." With that, he led He Lingchuan and Maotao inside. The interior was elegantly arranged, yet all four walls were decorated with weapons, giving it a distinctive character. In the center of the main hall stood a massive bronze cauldron, standing as high as Maotao's shoulder. Guests coming and going often stopped here. He poked his head over to look: across the bottom of the cauldron lay a miniature landscape with mountains, waters, pastoral fields, and small bridges. Remarkably, white mist drifted near the rim, serving as clouds within the cauldron. He exclaimed in curiosity, "Oh? There are fish in the river, and they're actually moving!" Thanks to his sharp eyes, he could spot something moving in the river at the bottom of the cauldron. Looking closer, it really was swimming fish. Fixer Liu introduced, "This is the flagship shop's prized treasure of Songyang Mansion: Mountains and Rivers in the Cauldron. It was crafted forty years ago." He Lingchuan praised as well, "Lifelike." "It's a living landscape," Fixer Liu chuckled. "Living, breathing people like us can even go inside. I've toured it myself; the scenery is exceptionally ethereal and lovely." Hearing this, other patrons clicked their tongues in marvel. The flagship shop of Songyang Mansion was divided into three sections: display in the front, storage and consultations in the middle, and a large area in the back dedicated to forging artifacts. Moving inside with familiar ease, Fixer Liu soon found a Manager Zhao and introduced He Lingchuan to him: "This is the eldest son of Lord He, the newly appointed Governor-General of Xiazhou. He has come specifically to your shop to repair a treasured saber. Young Master He has consulted many craftsmen, but none could restore it." "It must be no ordinary item. Please, have a seat." Manager Zhao immediately ushered them to seats of honor, served tea, and turned around to fetch someone. This man was in his early fifties, with eyes gleaming brightly and dark skin. "This is Master Craftsman Li Fubo, chief artisan of Songyang Mansion's Middle Forge." Li Fubo did not bother with pleasantries with He Lingchuan. Taking the broken saber, he drew it slowly from its scabbard. The cold glint of the blade instantly illuminated his brow. His apprentice placed a wooden board onto the floor, and Li Fubo raised his hand, bringing the blade down in a phantom slash. Nothing happened; the wooden board remained completely intact. Maotao could not help scratching his nose, but Li Fubo handed the broken saber back to its owner. "You try."