Where Is This?

After toying with it for a long while, He Lingchuan finally let out a yawn. "Fixing you won't be easy, but I'll do my best." Just as he was about to return the saber to where it had been, an idea struck him, bringing to mind the arrangement of Zhong Shengguang's quarters. Guided by some strange impulse, he hung the saber on the wall by the head of his bed as well before lying down. He also picked up the divine bone necklace and fiddled with it for a good while. The necklace was undeniably connected to Panlong City. He Lingchuan couldn't figure out what changes it might undergo for now, so he didn't bother dwelling on it. The artifact had previously saved his life from Sun Fuping's true fire, and he had no intention of taking it off. He slept exceptionally soundly. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself standing in a small grove of trees. Above him stretched blue skies and white clouds, and not far off lay lush green wheat fields crisscrossed by paths, with the distant sounds of chickens and dogs carrying through the air. By the edge of the field stood two farmers, both barefoot—one standing, one sitting—chatting away. Compared to He Lingchuan, their skin was dark to the point of gleaming, making their teeth look strikingly white whenever they smiled. One of them asked, "How much longer do you have to farm?" "Two months and twenty-six days." "Envious! I have to report back to camp tomorrow." The man picked up a sheepskin canteen, took a gulp of water, and said, "You still have time to spend with your woman and try for another chubby boy." His companion nodded. "Be careful out there. I heard the Tongluo Highlands to the west were hit by a surprise raid and just fell. The General is bound to send people to take them back. That place is easy to defend and hard to assault—it won't be an easy fight." "Every month is rough, but don't we get through each month all the same?" The man clapped him on the shoulder with a chuckle. "When I come back alive, I'll find you for a drink. Your treat!" "Fine. You can drink all the two-wen wine you want." The man laughed. "How long has it been since you bought wine? Grain's been tight lately, so wine prices went up with it. Where can you find two-wen wine these days? I heard from the granary folks that they're banning brewing soon—wastes too much grain... Huh? Who's there?" Both of them turned their gazes toward the grove. He Lingchuan had no choice but to step out from among the trees, wearing a genial smile. "Excuse me, gentlemen, could you tell me where this is?" He was merely a passerby, the smile on his face as warm as spring—something that would be completely ordinary in any other village. Yet this place was exceedingly eerie, because the two farmers weren't speaking the language of the Great Yuan Kingdom at all, and yet he understood every single word without missing a beat. The look in their eyes instantly turned wary. "Where are you from?" The other demanded, "What are you doing here?" "Uh, I..." He didn't know either. What had he been doing earlier, and how had he suddenly ended up here? With He Lingchuan hesitating like this, the two moved in, spacing themselves apart to form a pincer around him. One seized a shoulder pole, while the other grabbed an iron hoe. In an instant, the farmers turned aggressive, and from their stances, they looked nothing like ordinary tillers. One of them quickly blew a sharp whistle and bellowed, "A spy!" The fields were open and wide. Half a dozen or so farmers working not far off heard the shout, snatched up whatever implements were closest at hand, and came charging over. Not one of them hesitated. "Hey, don't go throwing wild accusations around!" He Lingchuan was dumbfounded. What kind of reaction was this? Not wanting to get into a pointless brawl, he had no choice but to spin around and sprint back into the woods. Behind him, whistles and barking dogs sounded in rapid succession, creating quite a ruckus. He Lingchuan could hear the wet slap of straw sandals churning through mud; far more than just one or two were giving chase. Fortunately, though the grove was small, the foliage was thick. With his speed, he twisted and turned until the footfalls behind him gradually faded into the distance. Then the view before him opened up as the trees came to an end. Stretching across He Lingchuan's path was a man-made canal, roughly chest-deep, with small fish and shrimp clearly visible nibbling on aquatic weeds against the sandy bed. The trouble was that it was a full five zhang across—about sixteen meters. There was no way he could clear it in a single leap. He Lingchuan sighed, slipped into the water, swam across the canal, and scrambled up the opposite hill. As he ran, the water sloshing inside his boots squelched with every stride, terribly uncomfortable. Soon, the mob of farmers burst out of the woods as well, only to be stopped by the canal. Presumably unwilling to soak themselves, they simply pointed wildly and shouted curses across the water. They were too far off for He Lingchuan to hear what they were yelling. "A pack of mad dogs. Screw you!" He Lingchuan gave them the middle finger and spat twice on the ground to vent his outrage at being chased for no reason. However, the expression on his face quickly froze, because footfalls approached from behind him once more. He turned around to see several soldiers charging toward him with aggressive momentum. At a rough count, there were about seven of them, all clad in light armor. The uniform looked somewhat familiar. Where had he seen it before? He Lingchuan couldn't recall off the top of his head. He had no time to ponder it; the soldier sprinting in the lead untied a knotted rope from his waist and barked, "On your knees! Hands up!" One look was all He Lingchuan needed to understand: these were likely city patrol guards, and the knotted rope in hand was probably soaked in special oils, tough and resilient and hard to sever. When dealing with suspects, they would slip the loops over the head and wrists without a word and yank tight, rendering the person helpless. These knotted ropes were far lighter and more portable than wooden cangues or iron chains, having long been standard gear for yamens and garrison guards. When they ordered someone to kneel, any suspect daring to flee had to face the risk of being killed on the spot. This man was fast, pulling a fair distance ahead of his companions. This time, He Lingchuan didn't run. Instead, he hurried forward shouting that he was wronged, bending his knees as if preparing to drop down. Seeing him act so compliant, the soldier naturally slowed his pace and leaned forward, ready to slip the knotted rope over his head. Who could have guessed that He Lingchuan would scoop up a handful of dirt and grass from the ground and fling it straight into his face? The guard instinctively raised a hand to block, turning his face away and shutting his eyes. He Lingchuan shot forward in a single stride, snatched the knotted rope right out of the man's grip, and looped it around him with a backhanded flick. The sequence was smooth as flowing water. Before the guard could react, still tasting the grit in his mouth, his head and one arm were already ensnared. He Lingchuan hauled him close by the rope, drew the saber from his captive's waist with his other hand, pressed it against the man's throat, and barked at the pursuing guards, "Back off! All of you, back off!" In an unfamiliar place, running and hiding over and over was no solution; he needed to find a way to seize the initiative. Wary of harming their comrade, the guards indeed halted, though their mouths were as fierce as ever: "Let him go, or we'll beat the yolk right out of you!" He Lingchuan jerked the rope, choking his captive until the man's eyes rolled back. "Where is this?" "Zhao Village! Are you blind drunk?" "And where is Zhao Village?" He Lingchuan frowned, an uneasy feeling growing stronger in his chest. "Which city? Which township?" The men looked at him as if he were an idiot. "Chipa Plateau, Panlong City, Wenze Township!" A loud buzz rang through He Lingchuan's mind. Panlong City? This lush land of green waters and thriving crops was Panlong City? Had he entered the illusion again? How did he get in? Wait, what had he been doing earlier? How could he have no recollection of it at all?