Deductions of Fate

Chen Hao clenched his jaw. "Yuheng City has meticulously developed twelve kinds of torture. If you can endure three, I’ll respect you as a real man." He Lingchuan clapped his hands. "All right, take him away!" Having watched the fierce clash from the sidelines, the surrounding merchants and travelers had barely recovered from the shock before stepping forward one after another to offer their thanks. Amid the crowd’s cheering send-off, He Lingchuan and his men escorted the prisoners and severed heads north, heading back to the city. Only after they departed did a white bird emerge from a large tree beside the lotus pond at Qinglang Courier Station. It peered after the receding backs of the Yuheng City patrol guards, then flapped its wings and flew away. It flew east toward Longchuan, carrying trouble along with it. …… Yuheng City. Returning to the magistrate’s yamen, He Lingchuan changed out of his bloodstained clothes and wiped off his sweat—damn this wretched weather, it wasn’t even the seventh month yet and it was already sweltering like an oven. He had just sat down and drunk a cup of water when Wen Daolun walked in. "I hear you landed a big fish? Congratulations! Commander He, your half a month of effort hasn't gone to waste." "Chen Hao is heavily relied upon by Fu Shanlie. For the past two months, he led the Xiji puppet troops in murdering people and plundering goods, causing us no small amount of trouble." He Lingchuan tilted his neck, eliciting a crisp pop. "Capturing him is like lopping off one of Fu Shanlie's arms. I've already arranged men to interrogate him." "Fu Shanlie is a fierce general of Lingxu City, yet he actually came to Longchuan to stir up trouble?" Wen Daolun frowned. "It seems Beijia never truly feels at ease regarding Panlong City." With Beijia meddling in the background, the Longchuan water bandits were no longer merely a minor nuisance. He Lingchuan stroked his chin and said, "With Chen Hao captured, I pinned the blame on the Globe Amaranth Gang for tipping us off. Now let’s see whether Fu Shanlie can swallow this down. If he endures it in silence, I’ll chop off Chen Hao’s head and send it to him." Wen Daolun couldn't help but chuckle. This Commander He's greatest talent was driving people out of their minds. He Lingchuan pondered for a moment, then suddenly asked, "I’d like to consult Mr. Wen on a matter. You once examined my fortune, so tell me: can someone versed in the arts of fate accurately predict their own future destiny?" Wen Daolun replied without hesitation, "No one can predict it accurately. The future itself is hazy, never an unobstructed view that can be seen through to the very bottom at a glance. So-called 'mastery of fate arts' is nothing more than finding the greatest probability among myriad choices. Yet no matter how skilled one is, when divining one's own destiny, that 'greatest probability' becomes even harder to pinpoint." Was it because one lost objectivity? He Lingchuan hesitated briefly before asking, "What if it’s a god that governs destiny? Could such a being accurately foresee its own fate?" "A God of Fate?" Wen Daolun mused. "Lady Mitian did mention that there were once three ancient gods in the divine realm, one of whom was the God of Fate. Yet in the end, all three of those ancient gods perished without exception. Even the so-called 'God of Fate' failed to escape destiny's conclusion. Therefore, I do not believe a celestial god can accurately foresee its own destiny. "A celestial god's methods of deduction might differ from ours, but I believe all paths lead to the same great truth. Whether mortal or god, none can escape this fundamental law." He paused, then added, "Speaking of which, I've been feeling restless lately. I cast two divinations for myself, and neither boded well. One result was 'auspicious on Chou, but ill for the subordinate.' Yet as to when and where it will come to pass, I don't have the slightest clue. You see? Even skilled diviners struggle to divine for themselves—this is proof of that." He Lingchuan was slightly startled. "Why didn't you mention this earlier, Mr. Wen? I'll assign you two more personal guards—actually, I'll transfer Hu Min to you as well." Wen Daolun did not decline. "Very well. I’d also like to see whether this bad omen will come to pass again." When he said the word "again," He Lingchuan immediately thought of his son, Wen Xing. Back then, Wen Daolun had also divined an ill omen for him, and in the end, Wen Xing had indeed died right before He Lingchuan and Wen Daolun. Afraid of stirring up his grief over past wounds, He Lingchuan quickly shifted the subject. "One more question: if someone is merely preparing an action in secret without putting it into practice yet, is it possible to alter their future destiny because of that?" "No!" Wen Daolun answered even more decisively. "Karma judges deeds, not thoughts. So long as it hasn't been put into actual practice, no matter how you scheme or what you think, karma will not be stirred." A huge weight was lifted from He Lingchuan's mind, and he immediately thanked him. In other words, so long as he didn't make major moves in the waking world, Nailuotian would have a hard time calculating any shift in his destiny, right? Wen Daolun asked, "Is there something troubling Commander He to prompt such questions?" "Nothing, just a casual inquiry." He Lingchuan stood up. "I'm going to check on Chen Hao's interrogation." *** The mighty river surged, and the party of He Lingchuan, Dong Rui, and Zhu Daniang finally arrived at the banks of the Han River. Spring had returned to the world, and wild blossoms were in bloom along the shore, weaving a dense, neglected floral carpet. The riverbed was only half-submerged. Everywhere were long islands, dense thickets, flat sand, flowing water, and swooping gulls and egrets. Wild vigor and tranquil beauty, vast openness and delicate charm—all blended here in perfect harmony. In early spring, the Han River was gentle, unlike the violent tempest it had been the previous summer. He even managed to find the high ground where the two armies had clashed last year. Back then, this place had been covered in rain, blood, and mud, but now the riverbank was lush and green. The ferocity of war had been casually veiled beneath the newly sprouted reed shoots. He Lingchuan leaped down from his rock sheep and lightly stroked a large boulder. The rock still bore the gouges and cuts of blades and axes. Back then, he had stood his ground here against the enemy, dodging two strikes and cutting down three Xunzhou soldiers. The past remained vivid in his mind, as clear as if it had occurred just yesterday. Yet while the scenery remained, the people had changed; his mindset, cultivation, and experience had made him a completely different man compared to last summer. Every change had begun with his fall into the Han River. He still remembered the words Wen Daolun had used to inspire him: "Leave upon encountering water." From the divination slip left behind by the old turtle demon all the way back to the prophecy granted to him by Venerable Muling, his destiny had shifted from the known to the unknown, from preordained by heaven to utterly enigmatic. What encounters awaited him in the future, and where his final destination lay, even Venerable Muling could no longer calculate. To write his own Book of Life and Death—that was for the best. Watching from the side, Qiu Hu couldn't help asking, "Were you present at the Battle of the Han River as well, My Lord?" He could read He Lingchuan's expression; it was full of both nostalgia and wistful reflection. No one who hadn't lived through it would wear such a look. "I was." He Lingchuan pointed toward the high ground. "Hong Chenglüe ambushed the Chief Administrator of Xiazhou right there." Qiu Hu was slightly surprised. "Beijia's General Qingwu?" "You know of him?" "I've heard of him. Why did he come here?" How could a general of Beijia appear on the front lines of the Yuan Kingdom? "Official duties and personal vengeance." Back then, Hong Chenglüe had been dispatched by Beijia to secretly assist Nian Zanli; that was official duty. His wife, A-Jin, had been kidnapped by He Chunhua and committed suicide by poison; that became personal vengeance between the two sides. By now, Hong Chenglüe had probably already reached Beijia's eastern front, hadn't he? Just as He Lingchuan stood up, a figure suddenly darted out from the woods along the bank, accompanied by sharp chittering screeches. Qiu Hu stepped forward, a faint gleam flashing in his hand as he prepared to summon his bronze rod. He Lingchuan, however, strode forward and laughed heartily. "Come here!" He opened his arms, and the creature leaped right into his embrace. The squirrel perched on He Lingchuan's shoulder jumped in fright, only to realize that the newcomer was actually a monkey wearing a conical bamboo hat.