Shao Jian snorted. "From the founding of Beijia to this day, the wars it has plotted, instigated, or even taken part in directly number in the thousands. It survives and grows strong precisely by doing this kind of dirty work for the celestial gods!"
"Tell me—" he said, enunciating every word, "aren't these demon emperors, demon kings, and national preceptors traitors to the mortal realm?"
"...They are," He Lingchuan replied cautiously. "Yet over the past ten years or so, Beijia doesn't seem to have waged any wars?"
"It hasn't made a move itself, but what of the Ju Kingdom? What of the Dai Kingdom?" Shao Jian asked coldly. "When the new sovereign of the Ju Kingdom instituted his reforms, rebellion erupted overnight. Over twenty thousand died in less than six months. The sovereign himself was hacked to pieces beneath a forest of blades, and then the various rebel factions plunged into endless slaughter over the throne. It was truly mowing down human lives like grass, and even now the killing hasn't ceased.
"As for the Dai Kingdom, it enjoyed less than twenty years of peace before going to war once more against its mortal enemy. The generational feud only deepens; who knows what year it will ever end?" Shao Jian shook his head. "Beijia pulls the strings behind the chaos in both nations. These are merely the ones I know of. As for what I don't know—heh, it's beyond counting.
"The celestial gods aren't fools; harvesting nightmare energy unchecked would be draining the pond to catch the fish." Shao Jian's expression always darkened when the celestial gods were mentioned. "The mortal world also needs periods of respite to recover, which fosters the restoration of spiritual energy. Otherwise, if everyone dies off, how would the celestial gods reap nightmare energy? Conveniently, the flourishing of humanity and the spiritual energy resurgence occur almost concurrently. So long as the celestial gods regulate the intensity and frequency of warfare through Beijia, they can guarantee an uninterrupted supply of nightmare energy—abundant and rich in quality."
"Put that way..." He Lingchuan weighed his words carefully. "Doesn't that make the mortal realm a pasture for the celestial gods?"
When the population swelled, reap a harvest; when numbers ran low, let them breed and recover.
How was that any different from rearing pigs and cattle?
"Who says it isn't?" Shao Jian gave a long, wistful sigh. "The celestial gods and Beijia are the very root of this world's endless turmoil!"
He Lingchuan's gaze shifted slightly. "Since the celestial gods rely on reaping mortal nightmare energy to survive, why is Lady Mitian helping us?"
Betraying her own origins to take a stand against her entire race—would any normal deity do such a thing?
"That? You'd have to ask Commander Zhong." Shao Jian wiped the mutton grease from his knife. "I know nothing of the terms in the pact he forged with Mitian."
He Lingchuan felt the man had not revealed the whole truth.
"In short, you must understand that Panlong City is no utopian haven. Sooner or later, the celestial gods will cast their gaze here. When that day comes..." The hatred in Shao Jian's eyes could no longer be contained. "You cannot even fathom their evil, madness, and cruelty, nor Beijia's. Since Brother Zhong has chosen this righteous yet arduous path, you can only press onward without looking back!"
No turning back? He Lingchuan looked up at the starry sky, quietly inhaling a breath of chill air.
***
At the first crack of dawn, He Lingchuan went out to stroll about.
Having only just arrived, he was a nobody. Virtually no one in the vast expanse of Lingxu City recognized him, which made it the perfect opportunity to do some sightseeing.
It had been nearly dark when he entered the city yesterday, and he had only taken fleeting glances along the way. This morning, he could explore properly.
The core of Panlong City was limited to a few spots around Wanglin Avenue, but Lingxu City had no single "core." Its bustling urban quarters were simply too massive, encompassing whole swathes of marketplaces. Moreover, the main city and auxiliary districts each had their own central hubs—what He Lingchuan considered commercial business districts.
This was a central hub for the circulation and distribution of the world's wealth and goods. As he walked along, he even spotted specialties from the Yuan and Fu Kingdoms in roadside shops.
Goods from north and south, rare treasures from across the world—so long as one had the coin, anything could be bought here.
Venture behind the tall buildings and grand mansions, and one would find row upon row of eateries—both lavish restaurants and small diners, bustling with brisk business and a steady flow of patrons.
He Lingchuan spotted a diner with a modest storefront, yet its signboard boldly read "Fierce Seafood," and he walked right in.
Outside the entrance stood a potted evergreen pine, where a pair of peach-faced lovebirds were preening and nuzzling each other. Inside, the environment was clean and elegant. Four neat sets of rosewood tables and chairs furnished the room, three of which were already occupied.
He Lingchuan looked around, but saw no seafood anywhere. Upon asking, he learned that the saltwater tanks were all kept in the back, lest displaying them up front be deemed unsightly.
In small diners like this in his past, nobody had ever cared about being "refined." Lingxu City certainly lived up to its name; even a humble little shop maintained high-class pretensions.
Before long, the seafood congee he ordered arrived, bubbling softly as it was placed on the table.
He gave it a stir with his spoon. Well now, they hadn't skimped on the ingredients. Aside from the squid and dried scallops, which were rehydrated dried goods, the oysters, peeled prawns, clams, and baby octopuses were all prepared fresh, their natural sweet savor impossible to mistake.
The congee had been simmered until the grains blossomed, savory and fragrant, cooked to sheer perfection.
Taking a couple of spoonfuls, He Lingchuan felt the autumn chill driven clean away, leaving his stomach wonderfully soothed and warm.
Next came the crab butter noodles.
The so-called "yellow butter" referred to crab meat and crab roe. Its decadent flavor went without saying, and this shop had also fried a bit of pork lard into the mix, adding an extra layer of savory aroma.
He Lingchuan happened to know that grand restaurants were even more exacting, using only pure crab roe and fat without a single shred of meat—a true luxury dish.
He wasn't that fussy; so long as it tasted delicious, it was fine by him.
After that came two large plates of innkeeper worm and fish dumplings.
Freshly minced mud carp meat was beaten into a paste, then blended with chopped innkeeper worms to form the filling. Even the dumpling skins were pitch black—dyed with octopus or cuttlefish ink.
Truth be told, the flavor was exceptional; the portions were just on the smaller side. He Lingchuan patted his belly, estimating he was at most twenty percent full.
When he paid the bill, it came to exactly one tael of silver.
That was a full thousand copper cash.
He hissed softly through his teeth. With his appetite, filling his belly would cost five taels of silver for a single meal. That price was certainly far from cheap.
Lingxu City was nowhere near the sea; transporting fresh seafood here incurred substantial carriage fees. Not to mention, this was the main city quarter, where every inch of land was worth its weight in gold...
Glancing at the neighboring tables, he saw young men and women chewing slowly and delicately, their spoons and bowls barely making a sound.
Indeed, this was no place intended for gorging oneself.
He Lingchuan bade farewell to the smiling shopkeeper, stepped outside, and turned down several alleys. Deeper in the back rows, he found a baozi stall and ordered ten large pork buns in one breath, each the size of his fist, along with two large bowls of millet multigrain porridge.
Slurping down the porridge and wolfing down the buns, he was finally full.
Leaving the stall, He Lingchuan looked up to take in his surroundings.
Lingxu City could be called a model of harmonious coexistence between humans and demons. The streets were filled with demons of every shape and kind. The one collecting coins inside the baozi shop just now had been a baboon demon, licking its fingers between counting copper cash to give him change.
In the sky and among the tree branches, the shapes of flying beasts could be seen from time to time.
In an environment like this, He Lingchuan had no idea whether he was being watched. He could only hope that, as a newcomer, no one was keeping tabs on him yet.
He also browsed through two tailor shops and several souvenir stalls, picking up a few sets of clothes and local gifts, before heading to a teahouse where he ordered two pots of morning tea and listened to a round of storytelling.
Lately, strange and baffling occurrences had broken out in the smaller realms northwest of Beijia. The storyteller embellished the events with flourishes of drama and a healthy dose of speculation, weaving them into compelling tales. Because the news was fresh, the audience listened with rapt attention, frequently chiming in with questions.
And so, a leisurely morning came and went.
He Lingchuan wasn't worried about the Chiyan Crown Prince's safety in the slightest. The man's status and standing were unquestioned, and as the future Chiyan demon king favored by the deities, Lingxu City would surely treat him with courtesy.
Sure enough, an eyeball spider soon relayed news: Fu Shanyue had returned to the post-house, freshened up, and headed out again.
At the foot of the Imperial Throne, socializing was likely among the most crucial pursuits for the upper crust. Visiting only two households a day wouldn't get through the list in two or three months.
The Chiyan Crown Prince had plenty of people to call upon.
He Lingchuan was in no hurry either. He continued his sightseeing around the city, even paying a modest fee to join a guided tour.
Lingxu City was so developed that if there was a way to earn coin, someone was doing it. With many famous sights in the vicinity, there were indeed people running dedicated tours, carting sightseers around in spacious, privately chartered deer carts.
In truth, the guide was not human at all, but an obese, white-browed gibbon demon.
This ape demon was slicker than any mortal, spouting eloquent fabrications about the sights along the way—it could spin a foul drainage ditch into a mythic stream where jiaoren rinsed their silks... Best of all, the cursed monkey dragged them off to shop!
Souvenir shops peddling regional trinkets, mediocre yet pricey diners, and the guide's sour face and sneering sarcasm if anyone refused to buy—it stirred a deep sense of nostalgia in He Lingchuan, which perversely made the ape demon feel rather congenial.
Partway through, a tourist grew tired of the nonsense and demanded a refund to leave, only for the gibbon to bare its fangs. Behind it stepped two massive, muscle-bound shanxiao, staring the man down in stony silence with their brightly painted, mask-like faces.
"..."
The tourist promptly declared that the itinerary was simply too marvelous, and anyone who failed to see it through wasn't a proper human.
Through a few minor incidents along the way, He Lingchuan noticed that the gibbon was thoroughly familiar with the main city and Beikan District, possessing all manner of petty underworld connections. It even claimed that if guests could afford the price, it could take them on a stroll through the Floating Isle to see what sort of earthly paradise the ultra-rich lived in, promising it was like an entirely different world.
However, one could not wander freely there; everyone had to heed its orders and watch its cues.
Seeing that the deer cart had reached his intended area, He Lingchuan didn't bother listening to any more of its blather and left the group on his own in Xidui District.
Naturally, there were no refunds for uncompleted sights.
After navigating several more stretches of road, He Lingchuan soon arrived in an ordinary residential district and turned into Diliu Alley.
Here, a row of street shops stood out front, with a small canal running along the back. It had little to do with secluded tranquility, but offered the convenience of daily domestic life.
After all, this was still Lingxu City; every household's residence was modest in size, at most two or three times the size of He Lingchuan's lodgings in Panlong City, lined up shoulder to shoulder, one adjoining the next.
Entering the alley, He Lingchuan counted the doorways as he walked until he reached the sixth door.
He raised a hand to knock, but heard laughter coming from within—and from more than one person.
Hm?
This didn't sound like the target he was looking for.
He Lingchuan circulated his true power, listening in. Inside, people were chatting casually, accompanied by the clinking of vessels—
They were drinking.
He glanced back once or twice and noticed an elder sitting on a threshold soaking up the sun, watching him with half-closed eyes, while a young boy played with straw hobbyhorses in a courtyard, shouting and yelling in mock battle.
In alleys like this, people had been neighbors for decades; the arrival of a stranger was conspicuously obvious.
After a moment's thought, He Lingchuan turned and walked away.
***
Moments later, a knock sounded at the sixth door.
A drinker inside poked his head out, looking left and right. There was nobody there.
"Down here!"
He looked down, only then noticing a small boy standing right before him, holding up a slip of paper: "A letter for Tong Wei!"
Tong Wei? Who in the world was Tong Wei?
Chapter 552