We Were All Deceived

He Lingchuan sneered. "Earlier, National Preceptor Sun told us to hurry back to the South Gate as soon as we finished, laying on both warnings and threats, and even set a limit of two shichen. Don't you feel overly flattered? They only treat you like beasts of burden; when have they ever been so considerate?" Maotao immediately recalled National Preceptor Sun's two solemn reminders to "remember this well." "What if..." "What if what?" Sudden concern usually concealed an ulterior motive. "If something unexpected happens, what difference does it make whether we're here or at the South Gate? If we truly need to rely on them, we can just rush over then." He added with equal earnestness, "Do they look like they care whether we live or die? If not, why should we care about theirs?" Maotao thought about it and nodded. "You're right, Young Master. I'll listen to you!" *** Inside the government offices, He Yue wrote furiously at his desk. The weather in Qiansong Commandery was far better than in the Panlong Desert, but late August remained sweltering, and everyone was waiting for thunderstorms to bring some relief to Blackwater City. Today was exceptionally stifling. As he reviewed and endorsed official documents, he wiped sweat from his brow. Seeing this, a bailiff behind him fetched a large cattail leaf fan. "Second Young Master, let me." Before he had fanned more than a few strokes, urgent news came flying in from outside: The Panlong Desert had lashed out—the wild sand season had arrived early. *Clatter.* The brush in He Yue's hand dropped straight onto the desk, smudging several documents. The wild sand season had begun, yet his father and eldest brother had not returned. This was an unequivocal disaster. The bailiff called his name softly several times before He Yue came back to his senses, his voice dry. "Assign more men to patrol the streets. The city won't be peaceful these coming days." Every time the wild sand season arrived early, it caused heavy losses of life and property. Disputes between victims, their families, and the merchant caravans spiked dramatically. In previous years, He Chunhua had often dealt with cases of brawls turning fatal in the wake of the wild sand season. At the thought of his father, He Yue felt a chill seize his chest. Madam Ying waited bitterly for news at home every day; should he carry this dreadful tidings back to her? That afternoon, he stayed in the office for several shichen without managing to process a single additional document. Only when darkness fell did the youth listlessly stand up, preparing to go home. Never before had heading home filled him with such dread. Just then, a courier arrived abruptly and presented eleven crumpled, wax-sealed letters before him. "The eastern road has reopened. These letters were backlogged at Jiaxin Pass and have all been delivered at once." Seeing so many letters, He Yue's heart skipped a beat. Just how many major events had occurred in the east? Qiansong Commandery was remote, with no direct water route connecting the east and west. Correspondence from the capital had to pass through Woling Pass and Jiaxin Pass to reach this place. The mountains along the way were steep and perilous. Detouring around them added three full months of travel over terrible terrain, so almost no one took that route. Before departing for the Panlong Desert, He Chunhua had been constantly worried about the situation in the east. Even if only to fulfill his father's unfinished wishes, He Yue had to read through every one of these letters. He picked up a letter and broke the seal. After reading just a few lines, his brow furrowed, and he hurriedly opened another. Then the next. "Outrageous!" He Yue slammed his fist heavily onto the desk. A thunderous *bang* startled all the surrounding clerks. The Second Young Master had always been gentle and refined, the very image of the commandery governor. Why had he suddenly flown into such a rage? He Yue's eyes were rimmed with red. Never in his life had he felt such grief, indignation, and hatred. "Father, Big Brother, you died for nothing!" he said through gritted teeth. "We were all deceived!" The youth rose and strode outside. Now, he had two pieces of devastating news to bring home. *** Nian Songyu hauled the final crate of crossbow bolts onto the parapet. Each crate weighed several hundred jin. Even with his advanced martial cultivation, hauling forty crates up the wall left his arms numb and his steps heavy. Sun Fuping was already standing atop the wall, gazing down. "All carried up?" Being elderly and of exalted status, he naturally would not stoop to such menial labor. With He Lingchuan and Maotao absent, the work had fallen entirely on Nian Songyu. "Yes, that's the last of them." Nian Songyu panted heavily. "Who knows where those two scoundrels have died off to, moving so damn slowly!" After catching his breath for a moment, he began coating the weapons in a special oil, also known as fire oil. Whether using ballistas or catapults, igniting the projectiles multiplied their destructive power against enemies. Right now, however, what the two men valued was their ability to set the city ablaze. Nian Songyu casually opened another crate. He paused in surprise, then broke into a grin. "It's actually nail bombs!" Cannons had existed in the mortal realm for a long time, but their power was mediocre and the firing intervals were lengthy. They were passable for anti-personnel use, but against walls they left nothing more than craters—aside from making a deafening racket, they were barely more formidable than ballistas. Yet this crate of "nail bombs" consisted of cast-iron shells packed with tiny iron nails. Upon impact, they burst in all directions accompanied by flames, not only inflicting gruesome flesh wounds but also causing severe infections. Nian Songyu loaded a nail bomb into the cannon and dusted off his hands. "Two shichen should be up, right?" "Almost." Sun Fuping sat atop a crate, looking ahead. "The northern side still hasn't caught fire." "The north was assigned to the sand bandit. Could he have run off?" Nian Songyu walked over, shading his eyes with a hand. "Why don't we open fire first?" "Wait a little longer." Since the National Preceptor said to wait, they had to wait. In the blink of an eye, another half-shichen slipped by. The main street below the wall remained deserted. Nian Songyu gulped down a few mouthfuls of water. "What do you think?" "Give them a reminder?" Nian Songyu shrugged, drew in a breath, and roared, "He Lingchuan, return to the South Gate immediately!" He called for the sand bandit as well, though he didn't remember his name. He shouted three times in succession, his voice echoing across the southern district of Panlong City. Perhaps because the place was so vast and empty, his voice actually produced echoes. If He Lingchuan was on the road, he should have heard it. After waiting for a good while, the area below the wall remained completely empty. He shouted again, "We are igniting the South Gate! Your lives are your own responsibility!" Once the fires were lit, let alone any other mishaps, the flames alone might well burn those two wretches to death! After another half-shichen, Sun Fuping finally stood up. "The sand bandit is with He Lingchuan. They're on their guard; they won't be coming." The fire in the north had never been lit. If that sand bandit hadn't met with an accident, he had gone to join He Lingchuan. "That He family whelp has always resented me," Nian Songyu said to him. "What do we do now?" "The houses in the east and west have burned without anything unusual happening, so the crucial pivot to breaking the illusion is indeed in the south, just as I deduced. Those two brats—no, that He family boy grew suspicious. He isn't as reckless and straightforward as we thought." The distant flames seemed to dance in Sun Fuping's eyes. "Does he think he's safe that way? Naive! Light the fire." Those last three words were directed at Nian Songyu. Nian Songyu hesitated slightly. "What about your original plan for the Blackwater City army?" "They are standing right inside my array." With that single sentence, Nian Songyu's doubts vanished. He set the fire alight and loaded the ballista.