"That works as well. Dunyu is closer to the front lines, and the surrounding roads are easier to travel," the Marquis of Songyang murmured thoughtfully. "However, Songyang Mansion has no connections in Dunyu, so I must trouble Lord He to secure a good plot of land for me."
He Chunhua readily agreed. "A trivial matter."
The two then turned the conversation to the current political landscape.
He Lingchuan stood off to the side, sipping tea, eating pastries, and acting as a mere bystander. The Marquis of Songyang possessed bright eyes and fine white teeth, her demeanor elegant and refined. No matter who she looked at, she gave off the pleasant sensation of a gentle spring breeze.
It was under just such a gaze that He Yue sat with his head down, unable to look up.
She looked barely twenty at most, yet an air of grandeur shone through her gentleness. When discussing state affairs with He Chunhua, she displayed remarkable insight, and several of her political views aligned with his precisely.
He Chunhua harbored great ambitions, but rarely had the chance to speak his mind so freely with outsiders. Once they started, time slipped away, and before he knew it, more than an hour had passed.
Only after Madam Ying coughed pointedly several times to hint at the hour did He Chunhua reluctantly break off the conversation, clearly wishing to say more.
At that moment, the Marquis of Songyang was saying, "I've heard that the demon puppet master Dong Rui is notoriously vindictive. Having suffered at the hands of you and your son, he will most likely not let the matter rest."
"Thank you for the warning," He Chunhua replied with a wry smile. "I truly wonder who thinks so highly of me as to hire an assassin with heavy gold."
"It is either Nian Zanli or Dong Haoming. The former shares a blood feud with you over his son's death, while the latter had his bid to seize the divine artifact ruined by your hand. Regardless of which one it is, eliminating you would serve to weaken the royal court's power."
"Or perhaps remnants from Sun Fuping's faction?"
The Marquis of Songyang shook her head. "Sun Fuping's faction has been thoroughly uprooted. That possibility can essentially be ruled out."
He Lingchuan chimed in, "I thought his disciples and old acquaintances were scattered all over the capital."
"Sun Fuping did indeed have disciples and associates, but upon becoming National Preceptor, he was required to deliberately distance himself from them, with the censors paying particularly close attention. This is one of the most fundamental state policies: whenever a National Preceptor maintains private ties with high officials, those officials are severely punished."
He Lingchuan shrugged. "Right, which is why he colluded with the Grand Marshal instead."
Were state policies not virtually useless anyway?
"Sun Fuping had no sons or daughters, nor does he leave behind direct heirs to avenge him," the Marquis of Songyang said with a light chuckle. "When the tree falls, the monkeys scatter. Eldest Young Master worries too much."
As she spoke, she covered her mouth and stifled a yawn.
It was indeed very late. He Chunhua seized the moment to rise and take his leave, adding, "Since Your Lordship is also traveling north, why not travel alongside our army?"
The Marquis of Songyang accepted without hesitation. "That would be wonderful. With the Auxiliary Army escorting us, the journey will be entirely free of worry."
The party stepped out into the courtyard. He Chunhua glanced back once more before returning to the village cottages.
The cottages had already been allocated, mostly to the officers, though Madam Ying had specially set aside two rooms for the elderly and young.
The He family entered their quarters. A charcoal brazier burned inside, filling the room with comforting warmth.
Seeing that no outsiders were present, Madam Ying pulled a long face. "Out in the desolate wilderness, in a village that was just slaughtered, the Marquis of Songyang happens to stage a 'chance encounter'! That woman harbors ulterior motives; we must be on guard against her!"
No matter how she looked at the Marquis of Songyang, something felt off.
He Chunhua found it amusing. "If she intended to plot against us, why choose such a place and needlessly heighten our vigilance?"
Madam Ying glared at him, then turned her glare upon her two sons.
Receiving his mother's simmering resentment, He Yue blinked, wishing to stay out of it. Madam Ying, however, called him out directly: "Yue'er, what do you think?"
He Yue had no choice but to clear his throat. "Father, Grand Master Li Fubo once came to inquire about Sun Fuping's relics, which surely came under the Marquis of Songyang's instructions. This 'Lordship' still shares some connection with Sun Fuping. Until we sort that out, it is best not to become too close."
He Chunhua actually took this to heart. After a moment of thought, he nodded. "You make a fair point."
Madam Ying cast a glance of approval at her second son.
He Lingchuan, however, tapped the table lightly. "The Marquis of Songyang is actually a woman? Why did none of you ever mention that?"
Everyone called her the Marquis of Songyang and constantly addressed her as "Your Lordship." It would have been strange if he had guessed she was a woman!
He Yue asked in surprise, "Brother, you didn't know?"
"How was I supposed to know?" He Lingchuan retorted in annoyance. "Am I the only one who grew up in an isolated border town cut off from news?"
"The Marquis of Songyang's surname is Li, and her given name is Qingge. The title is hereditary, but she is the only female peer in the entire current dynasty. Even back in Blackwater City, I heard local women discussing it with great relish." He Yue found it curious instead. "Elder Brother, you love digging into gossip so much—how could you not know this?"
He Lingchuan pointed at each person in the room. "So, all of you knew?"
Apart from him, every member of the He family nodded with an expression that said it was entirely obvious.
The steward, Lao Mo, who was waiting nearby, also nodded with a genial smile.
So Li Fubo hadn't mentioned it, Sun Hongye hadn't mentioned it, and even that loose-lipped Fixer Liu in Shihuan City hadn't mentioned it—all because it was common knowledge?
He Lingchuan stretched his arms, feeling thoroughly exhausted in both body and mind. "Where's dinner? I'm starving!"
***
The night passed without dreams.
He Lingchuan had been eager to see the aftermath of the great battle, but unfortunately failed to dream of Panlong. Perhaps the broken saber was showing him consideration after the excessive exhaustion he had endured in the dream the night before.
When he woke, he found that the lad He Yue was still asleep. His face was flushed crimson, and he was muttering indistinctly under his breath.
He Lingchuan leaned in to listen closely, only for He Yue to suddenly snap his eyes open and let out a loud "Ah!"
Both of them jumped in fright, and even the guards stationed outside came rushing in.
He Lingchuan dug at his ear. "What are you screaming for? You almost deafened me." It had been like a demonic screech piercing his brain.
He Yue's face was beet red, and he avoided looking at him. "I... I was just sleeping! What were you leaning in for?"
"I heard you saying 'good, good,' and then 'slower,'" He Lingchuan remarked with casual amusement. "Just what was so good yet had to be done slowly?"
"Uh." He Yue glanced down, suddenly jumped to his feet, and bolted toward the door. "I need to piss!"
"There's a bucket in the back!"
Whether He Yue heard him or not was anyone's guess; he had thrown an outer robe haphazardly over his shoulders and dashed away in a flash.
The snow had stopped, but the morning outside was exceptionally bitter. He Lingchuan clicked his tongue twice. The young really had vigor to spare.
Then he made a rather unpleasant realization:
Ever since acquiring the broken saber, his dreams had been exclusively about Panlong City—or else he slept like a log without dreaming at all.
The sole exception had been dreaming of the immortal's cavern abode, but that too was related to the divine bone, and thus indirectly connected to Panlong City.
In other words, he had lost the ability to visit any other dreams.
Was he doomed to dream only of Panlong City for the rest of his life? That would get dreadfully tedious.
He was still young. He also wanted to have the kind of youthful dreams He Yue was having—brimming with vitality, drenched in sweat, blood pumping, ascending to celestial bliss...
"Big brother, let's make a deal," He Lingchuan murmured, patting the broken saber. "How about letting me have other dreams once in a while?"
The broken saber naturally showed no reaction.
Yet He Lingchuan was certain it had heard.
***
The slaughtered villagers had already been laid to rest. Before the column departed, He Chunhua offered a stick of incense and recited a prayer for them.
"In this world, only human life comes cheap." The Marquis of Songyang, Li Qingge, joined her palms together in prayer as well. "Lord He is truly kind-hearted."
Just then, the little marten perched on Wu Shaoyi's shoulder squeaked twice. Wu Shaoyi promptly lowered his voice and spoke to the others: "My marten says the crows on the branches have been watching us the whole time, and they reek heavily of human blood."
Startled, He Chunhua looked up. Sure enough, perched upon a massive tree beside the burial pit was a flock of nearly a hundred crows, looking down on them from above.
Crows were common birds in winter, and the Auxiliary Army had seen countless flocks along the way, instinctively ignoring them.
Yet at Wu Shaoyi's reminder, everyone noticed the anomaly:
Since when were crows ever this quiet?
Furthermore, more than a dozen of them were far larger than their peers, almost rivaling vultures in size. The way they stared at humans was unnatural—like carrion birds eyeing dead meat.
Meanwhile, the two wolf demons on the ground were staring right back at them, constantly licking their muzzles.
He Chunhua spoke slowly, "The beaks on those creatures are remarkably sharp. Don't they look like crane-bill pens?"
The more they looked, the more it seemed so.
He Lingchuan drew the Ghost Eye Bow from his storage ring, intending to teach those crows a lesson.
Before he could even nock an arrow, however, the flock seemed to recognize the danger. With harsh caws, they took flight, their wings beating in a dark swarm as they swept toward the mountain behind.
The commotion sent snow rustling down from the great tree.
He brushed the flakes from his shoulders in resignation. "The Emperor's Flowing Dew a short while ago was clearly sparse and inferior in quality. How could it still spawn so many monsters?"
He Chunhua assumed a grave expression. "In times of turmoil, monsters breed; in times of peace, evil spirits are rare."
Li Qingge looked at him. "Then how does one achieve peace?"
He Chunhua shook his head. How many formidable figures had spent their lives searching for that very answer? He Lingchuan, on the other hand, chuckled. "One probably has to wait for an epoch-making hero to arise."
Though these man-eating crows were abominable, men on foot could never catch birds in flight, especially in broad daylight. Both He Chunhua and Li Qingge abandoned the idea, ordering camp struck to resume their march.
The murderers had gotten away scot-free; reality was often frustratingly helpless. The so-called wide net of justice was merely words with which mortals deceived themselves.
With countless newly awakened monsters roaming across the land of the Great Yuan, how much could a mere six hundred men possibly accomplish?
The advisor Mozhe Jingxuan could only comfort the indignant Madam Ying: "When monsters first gain sentience, they always pass through a period of muddled chaos. After a while, they will settle down." Most would quiet down; otherwise, human armies would soon teach them how to properly behave as monsters. After all, this was still the territory of the Great Yuan.
Yet He Lingchuan understood that this applied only "under normal circumstances." At present, the Great Yuan was overwhelmed by fighting on two fronts. Did it truly possess the energy to eradicate these minor afflictions across its domain?
That was precisely why He Chunhua had lamented that troubled times bred monsters.
If superficial ailments were left untreated, they would eventually fester into incurable diseases that gnawed through bone and marrow.
As the Auxiliary Army departed, the flock of crows trailed them through the sky for more than ten li, cawing incessantly in a display of mocking, insolent defiance. A few even attempted to fly directly over their heads to drop dung, drawing a shrill shriek of alarm from Madam Ying.
Zhao Qinghe and Zeng Feixiong abruptly bellowed orders to draw bows, and the soldiers of the Auxiliary Army unleashed a coordinated volley.
A rain of arrows whistled skyward, bringing down a dozen crows on the spot.
If these damnable creatures were not shown some teeth, they would push their luck without bounds.
Startled, the flock flapped frantically to climb higher. The soldiers fired another coordinated volley, bringing down four or five more. The two giant wolves bounded forward, retrieving them one by one and carrying them back to the carts—lunch was secured, and so were new toys.
Having suffered this bitter lesson, the crows finally realized that these people were entirely different from ordinary villagers and were not to be trifled with. Only then did they turn back in dejection.
Snow began to fall from the sky once more.
Chapter 203