"What about our casualties?"
"Not bad, not many. After all, we had the upper hand this time." The sparrowhawk gave no exact numbers, merely continuing, "Afterward, Zhu Erniang negotiated with General Red."
"What did they say? Is it convenient to share?"
Without the slightest hesitation, the sparrowhawk replied, "Very convenient, because I don't know either."
"..."
"The rest of us stayed halfway up the mountain, burrow spiders included. Only General Red and Zhu Erniang spoke at the summit." The sparrowhawk resumed eating. "We saw Zhu Erniang baring fangs and brandishing claws, looking furious, but General Red remained calm throughout. In the end, she agreed on terms with it before returning. As far as I know, the burrow spiders will continue to honor the original agreement and no longer attack passing humans. A new term was also added: the burrow spiders must assist Panlong City in guarding the southern Panlong Wasteland. In other words, Zhu Erniang has to send demon spiders to patrol the main southern road regularly and report any anomalies immediately."
Local powerhouses were indeed the best choice for such a task.
In the past, the agreement between Panlong City and the burrow spiders had been relatively loose and respectful. But since Zhu Erniang had struck at Panlong City's army this time, General Red showed them no leniency whatsoever.
"Factoring in General Nan Ke's setback, we lost a fair number of men in the Ghost Needle Stone Forest as well. According to General Red's original plan, she seemed intent on reducing the entire stone forest to ashes."
Having visited Zhu Erniang's lair, He Lingchuan knew full well that underneath lay a vast pasture. Now that the external threat had been temporarily repelled, it would not be easy for Panlong City to deal with the burrow spiders, but it was far from impossible.
Zhu Erniang had an extensive domain and countless offspring; finding another suitable habitat in the open Panlong Wasteland would be exceedingly difficult. That was likely why it ultimately compromised.
"However, before midwinter arrives, Panlong City must deliver five hundred camels, two thousand goats, one hundred roosters, and seven hundred hens to the burrow spiders as their winter provisions. In exchange, the burrow spiders will produce more demon spider silk every month to trade with Panlong City, which is excellent material for crafting magic artifacts. On top of that, they must supply fluorescent spores, fungal mats, aphid honeydew, and other such goods. The burrow spiders refused to offer these in the past, but from now on, they can only be sold to Panlong City and never to other merchants."
"They specifically demanded hens?" He Lingchuan asked in astonishment. "What do they want hens for—to lay eggs?"
Thinking it over, it did not seem entirely absurd. Those burrow spiders could cultivate moss and raise aphids like ants, running a massive ranch. What was so strange about keeping hens to lay eggs?
Indeed, the burrow spiders had suffered devastating losses in the fighting between the Baling forces and the Panlong army, with both their nest and pasture damaged by fire. Without an alternative food supply, they would very likely prey on passing humans to fill their bellies.
From now on, Panlong City would be the exclusive distributor of the burrow spiders' specialty goods. Seeing how furious Zhu Erniang had been, perhaps General Red had driven the hardest possible bargain?
Still, as the defeated party, the price it had to pay was bound to be steep.
"How would I know? I'm leaving." The sparrowhawk swallowed the last bite of meat and flapped its wings. "By the way, both General Red and General Nan Ke admire your bravery. I even heard General Nan Ke intends to recruit you into his guard. Interested?"
He Lingchuan sighed. "In other words, while General Red admires me, she has no intention of recruiting me into the Gale Army?"
He had hoped that after achieving such notable merit, higher-ups might grant him an expedited promotion track.
"To escape the subterranean cavern alive requires both quick wits and good fortune; yet you are too young and still need tempering." The sparrowhawk tilted its head. "Those were General Red's exact words."
He Lingchuan instinctively straightened his back. General Red had actually commented on him?
Just then, the creak of an opening door came from the neighboring courtyard.
Sun Fuling was back?
He Lingchuan raised his voice and called out, "Miss Sun?"
"Mm."
From just that single word, He Lingchuan recognized her voice.
He Lingchuan's job was as a patrol guard, traveling north and south all day long; by rights, he ought to have been the one rarely at home. Yet he felt this Miss Sun was the one truly elusive.
Since their first meeting, he had entered the dream three or four times, and the small courtyard next door had been empty every time.
So after a brief hesitation, he decided to seize the opportunity. "Did you retrieve the stolen expiation writ?"
"I did," Sun Fuling's voice drifted over the wall. "The authorities delivered it to me yesterday, and Liu Tailai from the west side of the city was taken in for interrogation."
"That's good, that's good." He Lingchuan cleared his throat. "I have something I'd like to consult you about, Miss Sun."
Sun Fuling did not answer.
Thinking she might be annoyed, He Lingchuan touched his face. Was his complexion not fair enough? Over the past two days, plenty of young women and wives in Dunyu City had been casting flirtatious glances his way.
Before long, however, a creaking crunch of footsteps on wood or bamboo came from the other side, and Sun Fuling's figure appeared atop the wall.
Her upper half, at least.
"What is it?" She looked down at He Lingchuan, still wearing her veil.
It turned out she had set up a ladder to climb the wall.
"You have a new bird?" She noticed the sparrowhawk in the courtyard as well.
"No, it serves in the Gale Army."
Having finished the magpie as a snack, the sparrowhawk flew up to the wall, took two steps toward Sun Fuling, and tilted its head to look at her.
Paying no mind to the speck of shredded meat lingering on its beak, Sun Fuling reached out and stroked its head.
He Lingchuan spoke a beat too late, terrified the sparrowhawk might peck a hole in her hand with a flick of its beak.
Fortunately, it did not.
As she gently rubbed it, the sparrowhawk even closed its eyes, wearing an expression of pure bliss.
"This monster doesn't seem very fierce after all." Sun Fuling scratched its neck. "What did you want to ask me?"
"Ah, there's something I'd like you to examine." He Lingchuan took a sheet of paper from his robes, raised it high above his head, and held it open for Sun Fuling to see.
Being tall, a stretch of his arm easily reached the top of the wall—proving the wall was meant only to keep honest folk out, not scoundrels.
"Do you recognize this script?"
He had once obtained a rubbing from an immortal's cave, which was one of only two relics left behind by that nameless "immortal." The other, of course, was the cave residence's core that had been devoured by the divine bone.
"The handwriting is quite ugly."
He Lingchuan smiled sheepishly. A rubbing was a physical object and naturally could not be brought into a dream. He had spent considerable effort memorizing each character's shape from the rubbing and then transcribed a copy after entering the dream.
Given that his divine soul had grown increasingly solid through cultivation, committing an unfamiliar ancient text to memory was far easier than before.
"But I do recognize it." Sun Fuling's answer overjoyed him. "Let me see—"
"Which subject do you teach at Shumin Academy?"
"Arithmetic and national history." Sun Fuling's gaze tracked along the lines of text. "Where did you get this?"
"A cave out in the wild." He Lingchuan did not disclose the exact location, but described the immortal's cave interior for her.
"I heard it was an immortal's dwelling. Were the remains inside truly those of an immortal?"
"Not necessarily, though they would have some connection to the ancient immortals, just as things other than mice can appear in a mouse hole," Sun Fuling explained. "This script was popular two to three thousand years ago and is also called the immortal language. Modern script actually evolved from it."
"Immortals taught it to humanity?"
"According to legend, what immortals taught humanity was far more than just this." Sun Fuling kept her eyes fixed on the paper. "Mm, the master of this cave was titled Master Dongli, a two hundred and twenty-seventh generation true disciple of the Dahuan Sect, belonging to the lineage of Supreme Venerable Wood Spirit. He lived to the age of seven hundred and sixty-seven before his end."
"This Master Chrysanthemum Gatherer—no, Master Dongli—lived for over seven hundred years?" He Lingchuan was genuinely envious; he would be satisfied living even the tail end of that number.
"He wrote it himself. Who knows if it was exaggerated?" Sun Fuling remained rational and objective.
"It also says here that he upheld his venerable master's instructions, once serving as an early guide to mortals, enlightening the ignorant so they would not forget their origins. Alas, the overarching trend was irreversible; mortals and immortals tread different paths and drifted ever further apart." Sun Fuling narrowed her eyes slightly, seemingly deciphering the text with care. "Ah, here is the crux. Spiritual energy waned day by day, making it impossible even for him to preserve his longevity. With gray hair, a wrinkled face, and slackening skin, he suffered in helpless agony. Consequently, he fell into demonic ways, turning to faith in gods and demons in a vain bid for longevity and power. Because of this, he committed many wrongs, not waking to remorse until just before his death."
"Turned to faith in gods and demons?" He Lingchuan thought of Sun Fuping and Nian Songyu, and then of Hong Xiangqian. All these people had firm faith in gods and demons; Nian Songyu had even offered his own body as a vessel to welcome divine descent.
Yet none of them met a good end.
Was that an exception, or the rule?
Involuntarily, his thoughts turned back to General Red. Everyone knew Zhong Shengguang offered sacrifices to the Heavenly God, and Panlong City worshipped Mitian.
Would the ultimate fate of this city, and these people, also...?
Sun Fuling's voice pulled his attention back: "Only then did he thoroughly comprehend the mental cultivation method left by his master and revise the *Passing Waters Collection*. This was originally a divination book handed down by Venerable Wood Spirit, but in later eras when spiritual energy vanished, discrepancies arose, resulting in repeated failures to divine correctly. Master Dongli made adjustments and renamed it, engraving it into a golden book for someone fated to find."
He Lingchuan's spirits rose upon hearing the words "divination book," but he quickly recalled having searched the immortal's cave thoroughly without finding a third usable item, let alone any golden book.
Sun Fuling asked him, "Have you seen the *Passing Waters Collection*?"
He Lingchuan shook his head. "An old turtle demon took it. No wonder it was so well-versed in divination, entirely unlike ordinary wild mountain spirits." So the old turtle had acquired a relic of an ancient immortal.
"Master Dongli wrote that time flows like passing water, never to return. In today's era of declining spiritual energy, those with foreknowledge are like fish in water; only by leaping up with all their might can they catch an occasional glimpse of what lies ahead, and even then it is but a fleeting peek, never the whole picture."
"...I see." He Lingchuan felt a wave of disappointment.
If even Master Dongli, who revised the *Passing Waters Collection*, held such a view, then his own hopes of changing future fate seemed all the more slender.
Sun Fuling sighed softly. "It turns out this is how the immortals finally vanished. Master Dongli died so mundanely."
"Hmm?"
"Whether you call it passing away in meditation or not, I think he just died of old age—like any mortal."
"..." So in the end, immortals simply died of old age? "What an utterly uninteresting end."
"No matter how vigorous a fish may be, stay out of water long enough, and it will die just the same," Sun Fuling said. "He asks that whoever comes after and sees this testament take his keepsake to the old site of the Dahuan Sect on Mount Shou'an and place it in Guihua Pagoda. Though the Dahuan Sect no longer exists, he still hopes that fallen leaves will return to their roots."
Chapter 221