"Hmm, the token he mentioned is a turtle-shell tally. Do you have it?"
"Yes." Among the contents of the ring he had slipped off Master Dongli's finger was a small piece of a turtle tally.
"As a token of gratitude, you may help yourself to whatever is inside Guihua Pagoda."
Now that made sense. If you asked someone for a favor, shouldn't you offer compensation? "What's in there?"
"He didn't say."
The Dahuan Sect had been desolate for countless years; Master Dongli probably wasn't sure how much would still be left inside either. But Sun Fuling added, "Master Dongli studied divination under Venerable Muling, which was always the Dahuan Sect's forte."
He Lingchuan felt a stir in his heart, recalling the turtle demon's prophecy. "Didn't they say divination became unreliable after the celestial cataclysm?"
"The Dahuan Sect excelled in that art, so Master Dongli couldn't have been its only successor," Sun Fuling said with a smile. "That immortal sect was once teeming with talent. If Master Dongli could recalibrate divination, why couldn't others?"
Her words were an awakening.
The turtle demon's divination stemmed from the Dahuan Sect. If he wanted to break that prophecy in this modern era where information and methods were scarce, wouldn't his best bet be to make a trip to the Dahuan Sect to look for clues?
Besides, Master Dongli had also said that as long as his relics were returned to his sect, there would definitely be a reward.
It had been an age since then; he hoped the "reward" was still there.
"Mount Shou'an—where is that? I've never heard of it."
"Have you heard of the Six Kaiyuan Sects, then?"
He Lingchuan shook his head honestly.
"The Dahuan Sect was one of the Six Kaiyuan Sects, commanding Mount Shou'an—which is Mount Xu today!"
"Mount Xu?" The name sounded somewhat familiar. "Wait, isn't that within the borders of the northern demon kingdom?"
Right, he had heard it mentioned in theatrical plays back in Blackwater City. So he would have to figure out a way to travel to the demon kingdom later on?
"That's all. His last words end here."
He Lingchuan took back the rubbing he had copied. "Thank you so much. Otherwise, I wouldn't have known where to find someone to decipher it."
"The divine arts and miraculous powers that survive today were mostly refined by the immortals before being passed down," Sun Fuling said softly. "In the remnants of immortals discovered now and then, new techniques, mental arts, or lengthy chants occasionally turn up. So mastering the immortal language is quite necessary. If you want to learn, I can teach you."
He Lingchuan was delighted. "Wonderful! I'd be imposing on you then, Miss Sun!"
"Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime. Once you learn, you won't need to trouble me; you can look up books in the archives yourself." Sun Fuling rested her arms on the wall, looking down at him. "When do you plan to start?"
"Now?" He Lingchuan thought about it. No time like the present. "If you don't have other plans."
Sun Fuling ducked back down, and only then did He Lingchuan realize they had actually been chatting over the wall for so long.
He heard the sound of her stepping down the wooden ladder to the ground. The sparrowhawk didn't fly off, perching on the roof tiles to preen its feathers.
He Lingchuan asked it, "Don't you have a mission to run?" Didn't it have anywhere else to go?
The sparrowhawk let out a satisfied belch. "I just finished a high-intensity mission. I'm going to take a nap."
It had taken down three fat magpies today and was stuffed to bursting; it needed a rest.
Only today did He Lingchuan discover that a sparrowhawk could roll its eyes.
Flapping its wings to take a stroll through the Ghost Needle Stone Forest alongside General Red counted as a high-intensity mission?
A few breaths later, the sound of an opening door and knocking followed one after the other.
He Lingchuan invited Sun Fuling inside and offered habitual pleasantries: "Care for some tea? I still have some tea leaves from Xiluo, given to me by the other patrol guards."
Tea from the Xiluo Kingdom was top-grade merchandise here, served only at grand taverns for guests.
Sun Fuling had already removed her face veil and answered brightly, "Sure."
The moment He Lingchuan opened the door, she saw the half-filled courtyard, with piles of gifts like miniature mountains. "People really like you."
He Lingchuan scratched his head. "I'm sorry."
Sun Fuling's older brother, Sun Jiayuan, had likewise given his life in the battle of the Ghost Needle Stone Forest and been posthumously honored as a martyr, yet Sun Fuling's doorway remained quiet and deserted, with no one sending gifts.
"Sorry for what?" Sun Fuling looked at him strangely.
"...Nothing."
"Oh, are you talking about my brother?" Sun Fuling realized what he meant and shrugged. "He didn't live here, so people wouldn't send gifts to this address. I went to his place twice, packed up all the gifts, and donated them."
"Donated?" A thought struck He Lingchuan. "There's too much stuff in my courtyard for me to use up, and selling it wouldn't feel right. Is there a place to donate it?"
"Of course. In a place like Panlong City, are widows, widowers, orphans, and the childless ever in short supply? The families of fallen soldiers need special care too." Sun Fuling picked up a wind chime crafted from polished shells and gave it a gentle shake. It chimed with a clear, melodious ring. "If you're willing, I can help you donate them."
"Wonderful." He Lingchuan was overjoyed. "Then I'll trouble you, Miss Sun, to pass along everyone's goodwill."
Sun Fuling nodded.
He Lingchuan brewed the tea and brought it over, after which both fell silent.
*Whoosh.* A gust of cold wind swept past, swirling up fallen leaves from the ground.
Er, what had he invited Sun Fuling over for again...?
He Lingchuan rubbed his hands together to break the awkward silence. "What should we do now?"
Sun Fuling set a thick book down on a bench with a solid thud. "This is a reference guide comparing ancient and modern scripts. Memorize all of it."
"..."
So thick! It was as wide as his palm!
After finally passing the age of having to memorize books every single day, was he really going to pick up his old schoolwork and bury his head in hard study inside a dream?
A recurring nightmare?
"Your expression looks identical to my students'." Sun Fuling couldn't help laughing, her almond eyes curving into crescents. "Don't worry, it's not hard. Modern script evolved from the old characters, so there are traceable patterns. I'll teach you. If you apply yourself, you can master it in two to three months at most."
Just like regular script and seal script?
"Sit. Take out that rubbing. We'll start with it, adding annotations and comparisons."
He Lingchuan led her into the kitchen.
The room was too small, the courtyard was too cold, and only the kitchen had a small table.
He hurriedly added charcoal to the brazier, then dutifully took out the rubbing.
Before the door closed, the sparrowhawk took the chance to dart inside as well. Fluttering its wings to shake off the chill, it perched beside the brazier to warm itself.
With a brazier to bask beside, who would want to stand outside and freeze?
"Don't touch my stuff!" He Lingchuan warned it. In a basket on the stove, two parcels of roast chicken were hidden away, each weighing four jin—snacks he had bought on his way back to go with his wine.
*Hmph.* The sparrowhawk ignored him completely and went back to preening its feathers.
Sun Fuling breathed warm air onto her hands. "Paper, ink, brush?"
"Uh..." He didn't have any. In this house, he was either practicing martial arts or taking a bath; when would he ever have need of a brush?
Sun Fuling somehow produced all three items out of nowhere. Just as she was about to grind the ink, He Lingchuan showed good initiative: "Allow me."
He poured a little clean water onto the inkstone and gently rubbed the inkstick.
Over on her side, Sun Fuling had just smoothed out the rubbing when she heard him ask, "When I entered the city, I saw the former prefect of Weicheng leading the commoners out through the South Gate to return to their homes. There were at least thirty thousand of them."
"I know, I saw them too. In Panlong City today, that's huge news; all the streets and alleys are talking about it." Sun Fuling dipped her brush in ink and began annotating. "This is only the first batch. More Weicheng residents should be returning home one after another."
"I asked an acquaintance from Weicheng why they were going back. He only said they weren't used to it here."
"Different waters and soils nurture different people. Master Dongli also asked you to return his relics to the Dahuan Sect. That's just how people are—attached to their native soil, hoping fallen leaves return to their roots." Sun Fuling shifted the topic. "Have you gotten used to living in Panlong City?"
"Very much so," He Lingchuan replied without hesitation. "Life here is straightforward and carefree."
In the dream, he could be himself. He was either training or fighting, and in between, he could chat and boast with good friends. It was far more relaxing than reality, with no need to deal with He Chunhua and the others.
"That's because you chose the fastest path to advancement: throwing yourself into battle and accumulating military merit," Sun Fuling said softly. "In Panlong City, military merit earns you almost everything. Conversely, for those who can't earn it or accumulate it too slowly, life isn't so pleasant."
He Lingchuan recalled Liu Sanjiu and his wife, and the bitter smiles on their faces.
Neither of them was good at fighting. They were ordinary townspeople, able only to trade their hard but steady labor for daily necessities. Hoping to save enough to trade for military merit?
"Difficult" was an understatement.
Yet Panlong City was not a place where one could argue that "to each his own." If you couldn't provide what it needed most, then sorry—to the back of the line you went.
Living in this harsh land, the city's rules of survival were equally harsh.
"I heard some Panlong City residents even tried to fish in troubled waters by leaving with them, only to be rejected when registering at the government office."
"A bit foolish," He Lingchuan said, shaking his head. "For the lower classes, life isn't easy anywhere. Panlong City at least guarantees security."
"They'll understand once they're out." Sun Fuling continued, "The prefect of Weicheng was named Sun as well, wasn't he?"
"Yes. Back when Captain Xiao went to receive them, Prefect Sun fled with thirty or forty chests of family wealth. He even blocked the ramp so the refugees behind him couldn't get through."
Without looking up from her annotations, Sun Fuling seemed to smile faintly. "Though this Prefect Sun is wealthy, under Panlong Law, the most he can buy in the city is a Golden House. The three tiers of luxury residences above that all require military merit to redeem—something beyond his reach. If I remember correctly, the troops he brought along were disbanded long ago, too."
Panlong City's luxury estates were divided into four tiers. The lowest was the Golden House, the only high-grade property wealthy individuals could purchase with money alone. Many wealthy merchants had already bought Golden Houses, so Prefect Sun lived in the same neighborhood with them. Looking around, all he saw were nouveau riche and unscrupulous merchants, which probably rubbed him the wrong way.
Furthermore, Panlong City forbade private armies, retinues, and other armed forces. Prefect Sun could at most keep a few yard guards. Worst of all, he couldn't even afford to employ servants here!
Yes, the right to employ servants also had to be earned with military merit! For the wealthy, living in Panlong City was simply too inconvenient.
Of course, there was another way: making substantial contributions to Panlong City could also be converted into military merit. Naturally, the definition of "contribution" was very broad, which did not bode well for Prefect Sun's purse.
He Lingchuan nodded. "Better to be the head of a chicken than the tail of a phoenix."
Rather than staying in Panlong City as a third-class citizen, Prefect Sun preferred returning to Weicheng to throw his weight around once more.
Chapter 222