While that man was kept rushed off his feet, He Lingchuan happily acted as a hands-off boss. Aside from devoting himself to his cultivation, every few days he led his personal guards and rock wolf out on hunts.
Only three months had passed since the Emperor's Flowing Dew descended upon the realm, and newly spawned monsters were still running amok across Xiazhou. He Lingchuan took his new subordinates along to ply the trade he had practiced in the Panlong dreamscape.
Shan Youjun and Jiao Tai scouted several more stout fellows for him, bringing his guard retinue to an even twenty men. Naturally, the best way to test their mettle was to throw them straight into real combat.
Over the course of five days, they dispatched seven monsters, though the guard squad was reduced to eighteen.
One suffered a crippled leg, and one lost his life.
He Lingchuan provided generous compensation to their families and sighed. These were all formidable fighters Shan Youjun had thumped his chest and vouched for, far surpassing ordinary Xiazhou soldiers in skill. Yet judged by the past few days of actual battle, they still fell well short of He Lingchuan's patrol squad in the Panlong dreamscape.
It seemed there was still a long road ahead.
On the other hand, upon hearing that he was selecting personal guards, Li Qingge recommended a disciple of Songyang Mansion to him. Not only did the fellow possess considerable martial prowess, but he was also skilled in engineering and construction.
He Lingchuan happened to need an all-rounder like that and accepted with pleasure. Looking back at his squad now, he realized he actually had a field medic (the monkey) and logistics support—a remarkably lavish arrangement.
If only he could add an aerial scout to the mix, that would be ideal.
On this day, after wiping out a nest of bat monsters that preyed on the blood of young children, He Lingchuan led his squad back toward Dunyu when he felt a sudden coolness on his face.
Was it raining?
Surprised, he looked up, only to see tiny snowflakes mingling with wisps of drizzle drifting down from the sky, dampening everyone's clothes and hair, and wetting the horses' manes.
They happened to pass by Lake Qing, where the ice along the shore had already melted and floating algae was sprouting tiny specks of green. Schools of fish breached beneath the fragmented ice, filling the water's surface with countless mouths opening and closing.
Only then did He Lingchuan realize in a daze that spring had truly arrived.
The wind blowing against his face had shed some of its biting chill and taken on a hint of moisture, entirely distinct from the desolate bite of winter.
Upon returning to the He residence, He Lingchuan heard He Yue's voice before he had even stepped through the inner courtyard gate.
The family of three, plus him—everyone was present.
He Yue, who was usually far too busy to be seen, was rarely home today. He Lingchuan noticed the lad seemed to have grown a bit taller again, though he was visibly thinner, likely overworked by his duties at the provincial administrative office.
"Father, you're exploiting child labor," He Lingchuan complained on his younger brother's behalf.
He Chunhua gave a dry chuckle, his smile not reaching his eyes.
He Lingchuan took a seat with his legs spread wide, and Madam Ying promptly scolded him. "You don't even know to change your clothes first? Dragging all that dust into the house!" He had only switched his boots, and specks of mud still clung to the hem of his robe.
He Chunhua asked, "What monster did you rid us of today?"
He was naturally well aware of his eldest son's recent activities. Local village officials had even come to report, saying Eldest Young Master He had eliminated threats to the region, and the common folk were deeply grateful.
Going out on hunts while winning a reputation among the people for slaying demons and banishing evil—it was a worthwhile bargain.
"A nest of big-eared bat monsters that fed on children's blood," He Lingchuan replied with a smile. "Not many of them, only thirty-odd. Shan Youjun took them home and plans to roast them for a meal."
Madam Ying frowned. "Those things are edible?"
Why wouldn't they be? Once roasted, they tasted like chicken. He Lingchuan grinned. "What occasion is it today that the whole family is gathered?"
The words had barely left his mouth when he realized something was wrong. Behind their father's back, He Yue was frantically winking at him, his eyelids fluttering as if seized by a cramp, while Madam Ying wore an expression of sheer astonishment.
As for He Chunhua, his face shifted from cloudy to overcast, turning dark enough to wring water from.
"Good, what an unfilial scion! You actually dare forget what day it is today?"
No matter how displeased He Chunhua was with his eldest son on ordinary days, he had never branded him "unfilial." He Lingchuan secretly groaned in distress. What kind of blunder had he just committed?
Standing behind their father, He Yue gave him frantic hints, clasping his hands together and bowing as though burning incense before an altar, bowing at least three times.
"How could that be?" He Lingchuan offered a dry chuckle. "Of course I remember. Today we are to pay homage to..."
He Yue shook his head wildly.
Not homage? Then... "Sacrifice to..."
He Yue nodded, his finger pointing straight up at the heavens.
"...Heaven?"
He Yue rolled his eyes repeatedly, a look that practically screamed, *You're dead.*
He Chunhua turned his head suddenly, catching the lad right in the middle of that expression, and his brows twitched.
Both boys were grown now; did they dare cheat right before his eyes?
Taking advantage of the brief second his father looked away, He Lingchuan's mind raced, desperately trying to recall what made this day so special.
Right—He Chunhua had just reprimanded him as an "unfilial scion." That particular choice of words was telling.
Add to that the fact that today was the Spring Equinox—a year's plan begins in spring, tales of springtime... what on earth had happened in spring?!
He searched frantically through the sea of consciousness of his original self.
Perhaps because he had been dreaming his way into Panlong City so frequently of late, his divine soul had grown stronger, and from the vast ocean of memories, he actually fished out the answer!
Just as Madam Ying cleared her throat to help her eldest son out of the bind, He Lingchuan spoke first. "Today is our family's ancestral memorial day! Father, I would never dare forget!"
He Chunhua turned back around and gave a cold snort. "Loafing about all day long!"
Evidently, He Lingchuan had guessed right.
This was the single most important day of the year for the He clan, one that his original self had never dared treat lightly.
Both He Yue and Madam Ying secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
No wonder Father had instructed him before he set out to hunt monsters this morning that he had to return before dusk. At the time, He Lingchuan had agreed without giving it a second thought.
Every family had its memorial days, but the He clan's ancestral sacrifice was a thorn lodged deep in He Chunhua's heart. He never tolerated the slightest misstep.
Thus, within the He household, no one ever needed a reminder for this occasion; everyone bore it firmly in mind.
He Chunhua glared at him. "What are you still standing there for? Go bathe and change! The appointed hour is almost upon us!"
"Right away!" He Lingchuan hastily acknowledged and slipped away like a gust of wind.
The moment he returned to his courtyard, servants carried in a large wooden tub and filled it with warm water.
The so-called "fragrant bath" was naturally different from a casual wash. Herbs such as dahurian angelica, peach bark, and aucklandia root were steeped into the water to ward off evil, purge impurities, and refresh the body.
By the time He Lingchuan finished cleaning himself, night was falling. He changed into a plain white robe and white cap, removed every piece of jewelry, cleansed his teeth with willow twig and salt, and rinsed his mouth with bitter tea. Only then did a servant lead him toward the ancestral hall.
Renovations on the He residence were still underway, but the ancestral hall had been completed first. Its architecture was austere, with black tiles and gray walls, designed to blend inconspicuously into the surrounding complex in the future.
Beneath the eaves of the ancestral hall, newly hung white lanterns swayed in the mounting sleet and rain, flickering between brightness and shadow, casting shifting silhouettes across the faces of those assembled.
The entire He household was present. Butler Lao Mo directed the servants as they carried offerings onto the altar table in a steady stream.
Placed in the front row were the three great sacrifices: a whole pig, a whole ox, and a whole sheep, each roasted and held in shape.
Next came the five kinds of fruit, gathered from local produce—five common fruits of the region.
There were also sixty-four large and small bowls laden with various dishes.
According to the laws of the Yuan Kingdom, only imperial sacrifices or grand public rituals were permitted to use the three great sacrifices of pig, ox, and sheep. Everyone else, from high officials down to commoners, was limited to the lesser three sacrifices of pig, fowl, and fish.
The He clan's offerings breached ritual protocol, but He Chunhua clearly paid little heed to the rules. He Lingchuan recalled that ever since his father became the Commandery Governor of Qiansong, the family sacrifices had been conducted this way.
In the past, it was because the mountains were high and the emperor far away. Now that they had relocated to Xiazhou, why he still courted taboo was something He Chunhua undoubtedly had his own reasons for.
Besides, the He clan had always conducted their ancestral rites behind closed doors. At this moment, all outsiders were barred from entry.
Once everything was neatly arranged, Butler Lao Mo lit white candles upon the altar, and the ancestral hall fell into silence.
They waited for half an hour.
He Chunhua and his wife stood in front, while He Lingchuan and his brother stood behind them, eyes fixed on their noses and noses aligned with their hearts, motionless in silent contemplation.
Outside the windows, the rain seemed to quicken.
The candles before the altar remained unextinguished by the night breeze, casting their light over the dense rows of spirit tablets inside the shrine.
He Lingchuan knew that one hundred and twenty-six of those tablets bore the exact same date of death.
It had been the darkest, bloodiest day in the history of the He clan.
Butler Lao Mo spoke softly, "A quarter past the Hour of the Dog. The time has come."
In a clear, resonant voice, He Chunhua began reciting the prayer.
He had no need for a written text; every single word came straight from the depths of his heart.
Listening from the side, He Lingchuan sighed quietly to himself.
What a cruel world this was.
The He clan had originally been an eminent lineage in the royal capital, with the great-grandfather holding the rank of minister. No matter how turbulent the political climate became, his shelter had ensured the He family smooth sailing.
Nineteen years ago, the grandfather—He Chunhua's father—had been framed for the crimes of conducting a deity blood sacrifice, insubordination, and treason, directly striking the monarch's sorest nerve. In a fit of fury, the old emperor personally decreed the extermination of the entire clan, with immediate execution!
By the very next day, the emperor realized his mistake. But by then, nearly every member of the He clan had already been put to the sword, leaving only an eleven-year-old boy who had been far away in another province, temporarily spared from the purge.
The old emperor thought to himself, *I regret it, but I will never admit it.* Seizing the officials who had framed the He family, he executed their entire households in turn, adding the extermination of their nine familial relations for good measure. Then, with a grand wave of his hand, he decreed:
*The prime culprits have paid with their lives. Yet the He clan harbored and concealed their misdeeds, which was equally improper, rendering them accomplices. The court hereby pardons the youth He Chunhua from the death penalty, demoting him to Qiansong Commandery!*
What magnificent magnanimity.
From that day forth, the celebrated and brilliant third young master of the He estate, He Chunhua, saw his future snuffed out in an instant.
The only stroke of fortune amid misfortune was that He Chunhua had not been exiled as a convict, but "demoted."
The word "demote" was used with peculiar subtlety. He Chunhua had been a mere boy without an official post, yet he was officially "demoted" by imperial decree. This meant he had not been reduced to a commoner, much less a branded criminal, and was spared from having his face tattooed with ink.
His path to survival had not been cut off, nor had his chances of future promotion been completely severed. That was already the greatest mercy the old emperor had deigned to grant.
Sorting through the memories of his original self, He Lingchuan knew very well how He Chunhua had clawed his way up, step step by step, from a lowly post station clerk to his current station, receiving two exceptional promotions along the way. Pulling off such a reversal against all odds had demanded unspeakable hardship and suffering, as well as an immense stroke of luck.
After half the time it took to drink a cup of tea, He Chunhua concluded his prayer.
This year, there was far more good news to report to his departed kin, including his numerous meritorious deeds and his promotion to Chief Administrator of Xiazhou, making him a high official governing a border province. In terms of sheer power, he had already surpassed his forebears.
Consequently, He Chunhua's demeanor this year was far more spirited than in years past. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward two paces, knelt on the prayer mat, and began to kowtow.
He struck his forehead against the floor thirty-six times in succession, the thuds ringing loud and clear for all to hear.
Then, he took the incense offered by the butler and gently pressed it into the incense burner.
Chapter 252