He Lingchuan threw two more stones, and they met the exact same fate.
Did this mean guests were not welcome?
It was true that everyone had managed to get out after the black dragon died, but the passage connecting back to the secret realm had shut at the same time.
He Chunhua felt a wave of dejection wash over him.
After enduring untold hardships, suffering heavy casualties, and ending up killing high-ranking officials, there was no telling how Qiansong Commandery would face the wrath of the Governor of Xunzhou and the Grand Marshal.
After all, Nian Songyu, the son General Nian prized above all others, was dead, and Sun Fuping, who had somehow lost his position as National Preceptor, was dead as well.
And the He father and son had certainly played no small part in their deaths.
When the imperial court investigated later, wouldn't the blame fall on them?
Just thinking about it made the future seem utterly bleak.
"Chuan'er, what wish did you make to the black dragon?"
"I didn't even know I made one!" He Lingchuan smiled wryly, pointing at the nearby soldiers. "Ask them. Did I say a single extra word to the black dragon?"
Those who had been listening on the wall at the time, including Maotao and Situ Han, shook their heads like rattle-drums. In such a critical moment, who would have the leisure or inclination to make a wish?
"Here's the spoil of war." He Lingchuan held out the broken saber. "Dad, do you want it?"
He Chunhua answered listlessly, "Keep it."
After more than ten nerve-racking hours, everyone was exhausted. The only good news was that the sandstorm outside the city had temporarily died down, revealing the desert's murky undertone once more.
He Chunhua ordered the men to rest where they were and set off for home first thing tomorrow morning.
Because the Gale Army had also emerged from the illusory realm, they were now patrolling the Panlong Wasteland City, paying no heed to the living mortals while chasing off or slaying all the lurking resentful souls left within the city.
With these heroic spirits on patrol, the mortals felt much safer instead.
He Lingchuan led He Chunhua to a wind-sheltered courtyard to rest, and Zeng Feixiong and Situ Han followed naturally. Seeing Maotao hesitate, He Lingchuan looked back and called out, "Bring a pot in."
"Right away!" Overjoyed, Maotao went to the personal guards, asked for a large pot, and carried it into the courtyard.
Zeng Feixiong gave a wry smile. "Young Master, all the water was poured into the pool-well, so we can't boil anything. I still have half a waterskin of fresh water here for you."
He Lingchuan crooked a finger at Situ Han. "Come here, fill this pot."
Slightly embarrassed, Situ Han nonetheless pulled out a waterskin under the gaze of the other four and poured water into the pot with a steady gurgle.
Though the waterskin looked deflated, it filled the pot a good eighty percent full.
He Lingchuan chuckled. "Chief Situ was a sand bandit leader. Did you really think it would be that easy to pick his pockets clean?"
Situ Han laughed heartily. "Look at what you're saying, Young Master. I'm part of the regular border army now—on the official registry!"
Maotao then gathered some old, broken furniture and chopped it up as firewood to boil the water.
The group pooled what they had. Between them, they still carried plenty of rice cakes, naan, dried meat, and dried fish strips, and they dumped it all into the pot to boil. On top of coarse salt, Maotao unexpectedly even carried peppercorns and chili powder.
After the fierce battle, everyone had worked up a ferocious appetite and was eager to feast.
Just then, water began pattering against the roof tiles and wall coping—it was actually starting to rain.
The rain arrived swift and hard, turning into a downpour in the blink of an eye.
Fortunately, sitting beneath the eaves, they were spared a soaking. Hearing cheers erupt from the soldiers outside, Zeng Feixiong also beamed. "What timely rain! We'll make it back to Blackwater City alive after all!" With that, he stepped back two paces into the rain, letting the water wash the dust from his face.
Even if the resentful souls and the Three Corpse Worms no longer troubled them, and the heroic spirits escorted them through the stormy sand dunes, living mortals still needed water to survive. Sun Fuping and Nian Songyu had made everyone empty their skins to fill the pool-well, and the journey back would take over ten days. How could they manage without water?
Now that heaven had sent this sweet rain, their greatest looming crisis was resolved. How could they not be overjoyed?
"Actually, if you count the days, the rainy season should be arriving soon." The rainy season in the Panlong Desert usually arrived only in the ninth month. At this thought, He Chunhua paused. "By the way, what day of the eighth month is it today?"
The other four shook their heads. Time inside the secret realm had been utterly chaotic, and once outside, there were no points of reference left. Who knew how many days had passed?
Perhaps it was already the ninth month, in which case rain from the sky was perfectly routine.
He Lingchuan instructed Maotao to find every intact jar and jug to collect rainwater. Getting out of the desert depended entirely on them.
The men of Blackwater City needed no orders to do just that; everyone was already busy gathering water.
When Maotao carried an eighty-jin water vat into the courtyard, He Chunhua told his son to take off his shirt so he could dress his wounds personally.
He Lingchuan's injuries were not severe, but they were shockingly numerous. Most were claw marks left by the silk-binding rope; there were two gashes across his nose alone, and a chunk of flesh had been torn from the back of his hand.
He Lingchuan asked, knowing the answer full well, "Sun Fuping is dead?"
Although Sun Fuping's physical wounds had been healed by Nian Songyu, the magical power he had previously exhausted would not magically reappear, and he had still had to face the furious heroic spirits, the monstrous bird, and the Blackwater City troops. He Lingchuan saw no reason why the man could have survived.
"The Gale Army commander gave him the final blow—the one who attacked us in front of the divine temple."
"From beginning to end, he never used the State Token?"
"No." He Chunhua gave a cold sneer. "You were right. Stripped of his office as National Preceptor, he couldn't manipulate the dynastic fortune at all. Otherwise, even with the Gale Army's heroic spirits taking the field, bringing him down would have been difficult."
Shielded by the dynastic fortune, how could any ghost approach him? Even within a self-contained secret realm, that law still held some degree of sway.
Without the State Token, Sun Fuping was merely a somewhat formidable thaumaturge, and with so many men on their side, it was more than enough to finish him off.
He Lingchuan rubbed his hands together with a sly grin. "Didn't he leave behind any last words or belongings?"
This greedy look was all too familiar to He Chunhua. "Didn't you already get your trophy? A gift from the black dragon."
"It's just a broken saber, and I only found it thanks to my own sharp eyes. If not for my quick thinking, the black dragon might have swallowed us down one by one, too."
That was true enough; this boy had indeed been the primary contributor to everyone's escape. He Chunhua produced two spoils of war, both magical artifacts:
The silk-binding rope and the beast-head ritual staff.
"These two are the main treasures. Which one do you want?" He had plenty of other odds and ends, but he didn't bother taking them out.
"A man wrapping red cord around his wrist looks too sissy." He Lingchuan chose the staff. "The beast head is much easier on the eyes."
"It's yours." He Chunhua took back the silk-binding rope and tied it around his own wrist.
When not in use, the beast-head ritual staff shrank into a short pestle only a foot long, making it easy to carry. Twirling the short pestle in his hand, He Lingchuan mused, "Sun Fuping had both the skill and the cunning. Why was he stripped of his position as National Preceptor?"
If not for extraordinary luck, the He father and son and the Blackwater City troops would never have escaped Sun Fuping's schemes and would have ended up as sacrificial offerings.
"It seems many upheavals have taken place in the capital. Infuriatingly, our intelligence channels are blocked, and to this day we haven't received any news from the central and eastern regions." He Chunhua let out a sigh. Without first-hand intelligence, even with strong soldiers and sturdy steeds, they would have no chance whatsoever of pushing east.
Situ Han couldn't resist chiming in. "How could that black dragon be Zhong Shengguang? It's simply beyond belief."
Chapter 73