He Chunhua said in a heavy voice, "There are, but it was by no means intentional on our part."
"Human lives are precious, but every second counts in the central theater of war. If we fail to bring back the Dafang Pot in time and the rebels push downriver, the national capital could face a bloodbath!" Sun Fuping let out a long sigh. "When that happens, the innocent civilians killed won't be merely in the hundreds or thousands... but tens of thousands!"
He Chunhua parted his lips, but no words came out. On one side lay loyalty and righteousness to the realm; on the other lay human lives on the frontier. Which carried more weight?
Seeing that he had fallen silent, Nian Songyu also let out a quiet breath, covertly relaxing the tension coiled in his muscles.
Had Commandery Governor He proven pedantic, he wouldn't have minded striking swiftly with his blade.
"The wild sand season usually arrives every September and lasts until February or March of the following year," Sun Fuping said, knowing the background information by heart. "Yet there are occasional exceptions, aren't there?"
He Chunhua pondered for a moment, then gave a slow nod. "There are. The official historical records of Qiansong Commandery state that in a few years, the wild sand season did not arrive on schedule, resulting in severe casualties among people and livestock."
"What is the scene like when it arrives?"
"First come gale-force winds, torrential rain, and thunder and lightning. After that, howling fills the desert like fierce ghosts, and the winds and sands thrash about like dragons and serpents." Hence the name wild sand season. "At such times, anyone venturing into the desert would be buried alive within breaths. And the sandstorms won't subside until the following year."
"I have looked through records as well. Over the past century or so, the wild sand season in the Panlong Desert has changed its timing a total of five times: three times arriving early, and twice delayed. The most recent instance was twenty years ago, when the wild sand season came early in mid-May."
He Chunhua remembered this as well. "That was not long after I arrived in Qiansong Commandery. The local residents talked about it for many years afterward. For the next seven years, traveler traffic on the Red Cliff Trade Route was even disrupted, only gradually recovering later."
People traveled the Red Cliff Trade Route purely for safety. If the Panlong Desert's temper flared unpredictably, who would dare risk their life for that money?
"What is interesting is a clue I obtained from Grandmaster Zhu Gen. Twenty years ago, he dispatched an expedition from Baling Kingdom to probe Panlong Ancient City once more. He did not go in person, but reckoning by the timing, that expedition should have arrived here right around April or May!"
This time, even Nian Songyu was astonished. "National Preceptor, do you mean... the early arrival of the wild sand season that year was man-made?"
"Highly likely! At the very least, the timing aligns," Sun Fuping said. "That expedition was personally led by Grandmaster Zhu Gen's prized grand-disciple. Before setting off, he must have received direct instructions from him. Upon arriving here, he successfully triggered the premature onset of the wild sand season."
He Lingchuan kept a straight face. "Did they make it back alive?"
Sun Fuping sighed and shook his head. "That failure dealt a heavy blow to Grandmaster Zhu Gen. Later, Baling ceased organizing expeditions to Panlong City."
"Doesn't that prove it's a one-way trip?" He Lingchuan laughed out of sheer exasperation. "Then what are we even doing here?"
"What if I tell you that when the wild sand season descends, the safest place in the entire desert is actually Panlong Ancient City?" Sun Fuping angled his body, gesturing toward the complete set of coarse porcelain wine vessels on the counter. "Look at that. Are those things capable of withstanding a sandstorm? Yet however they were when the allied armies left the Panlong Ruins, they remain exactly that way now."
Everyone's expressions shifted, and they couldn't resist looking around.
Indeed, this tavern was open to the wind on three sides, yet the tables and chairs in the front hall and the stove utensils in the kitchen remained neatly arranged. From Situ Han's angle, one could even see two clay jars on the hearth, holding either salt or lard. If the wild sands descended here every year, how could any of this have survived? For that matter, this tavern, these two rows of street-facing shops, and so many dwellings in the city were century-old wooden structures—why hadn't they collapsed in the fierce gales and raging sands?
When entering the city, none of them had thought too much about it until Sun Fuping pointed it out.
He Chunhua exhaled softly. "The eye of a storm is usually calm."
Therefore, even if the wild sand season began and sand and stones flew outside, Panlong City within remained untouched.
"You should have said so earlier, then we wouldn't have had this misunderstanding." He Lingchuan chuckled toward the ceiling, no longer squaring off against Nian Songyu, and walked back over to sit and drink some water.
Situ Han mumbled in a quiet voice, "Still, the wild sand season lasts at least four or five months. What are we going to eat and drink during that time?"
Living people had to eat, and they had only brought a few days' worth of food and water.
Everyone in this party was a vigorous, hearty man—a regular chowhound, not some sorcerer capable of inedia.
Before anyone else could speak, He Lingchuan mocked him, "Use your head. If the Dafang Pot is retrieved by the National Preceptor, how could it keep generating the wild sand season? Our journey back might turn out even smoother than coming here."
He Chunhua's brow furrowed slightly.
Brash as the boy was, he wasn't wrong. Sun Fuping relaxed slightly, stroking his long beard. "Precisely!"
Persuading this father and son to submit to his arrangements had taken an exhausting amount of breath. Yet if he were to simply strike them down, managing the rest of the ranks would become difficult.
Men's hearts were fickle.
When traveling away from home, local tyrants from such backwater regions might hold modest official standing, but they were genuinely troublesome to handle.
Little did he expect He Lingchuan to turn back and ask him, "National Preceptor, you still haven't made one thing clear. What if we summon the wild sand season, but fail to obtain the Dafang Pot? How do we return then?"
That was the crux of the matter!
Sun Fuping smiled, serene and unruffled. "Before departure, I received special authorization from our king to tap into the origin power of the sacred altars!"
Everyone brightened with delight, casting aside their worries.
Origin power was the convergence of dynastic fortune, popular will, and military morale.
It provided immense amplification to supernatural techniques, could intimidate all kinds of malevolent spirits, and could break through an enemy's divine arts and formations. It was one of the nation's most precious strategic resources, possessing myriad wonderful applications.
Kept as a national strategic reserve, origin power was sealed within sacred altars during peacetime, and not even civil and military officials could deploy it at will. Fortunately, that was precisely the National Preceptor's role, and Sun Fuping had even received special permission from the sovereign.
With this promise, the likelihood of everyone leaving the desert alive increased by more than tenfold. Although Yuan Kingdom's dynastic fortune could not compare to its zenith, shielding two hundred men as they exited the desert would hardly be a difficult task.
With matters settled to this point, He Lingchuan had also eaten and drunk his fill. He stood up, stretched languidly, and said, "In that case, do we get to work at dawn?"
Nian Songyu offered a hollow, mirthless smile. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Tired. Going to sleep." He Lingchuan yawned. "Aren't we going to be busy tomorrow? There are no lovely ladies to keep company here, no tunes to listen to—what else is there to do besides sleep?" This kid just loved making trouble for him.
"Who told you that you could rest?" Nian Songyu couldn't even be bothered to conceal his disdain. "You're doing the work tonight—you're doing it right now!"
"Do what?" He Lingchuan couldn't stand the sight of him. "You?"
Nian Songyu took a step forward, his face darkening. He Lingchuan took two steps back, planting himself beside Zeng Feixiong. "Vice Commandant Zeng, protect me!"
Sun Fuping gave a soft cough. "Serious business comes first. Bring the puppets up."
Only then did He Lingchuan recall that while still on the walnut boat, the National Preceptor had bound two puppets infested by Three Corpse Worms and brought them all the way into the city, where they were currently stationed outside.
Chapter 35