Regrettably, the old water lizard in Longchuan had likewise only heard of Wen Daolun's death, without knowing the specific cause.
However, it did know that after the Kingdom of Jintao and the Longchuan water bandits succeeded in their first joint surprise attack on Yuheng City, having gained experience, such assaults on the city came one after another. Furthermore, Jintao harassed the border while the Longchuan water bandits preyed upon the trade routes. The two worked in seamless coordination, inflicting heavy losses on Yuheng City.
Panlong City was forced to dispatch reinforcements several times, hoping to help Yuheng City break the deadlock.
Yet the Longchuan water bandits were well-versed in the tactic of retreating whenever the enemy advanced, deliberately avoiding the Panlong City Army and the Gale Army while waging guerrilla warfare across the marshes.
The subsequent records left He Lingchuan even more stunned:
The Beijia general Fu Shanlie gradually absorbed the Longchuan bandit gangs, and the former Xiji army under his command grew increasingly formidable, even rivaling government forces. From initially raiding passing caravans and attacking official patrols, the former Xiji army escalated to directly assaulting towns and villages, burning, killing, and looting. They ran rampant across southern Xiji, becoming a terror that struck dread into everyone who spoke of them.
In those years, Longchuan was a festive haven for outlaws. The aroma of wine wafted through the water fortresses day in and day out, and the sound of blades grinding against whetstones never ceased. Countless desperados flocked from all directions to join this feast of defiance.
A few years later—five years after Panlong City had conquered the Kingdom of Xiji—it was forced to abandon Yuheng City and the old capital of Xiji one after the other.
With that, Panlong City relinquished all its occupied territories in Xiji, retreating once more to the Panlong Wasteland!
It had been a truly helpless retreat.
When He Lingchuan finished reading, his heart remained unsettled for a long time.
Could the bandit scourge in Longchuan have wrought such lasting catastrophe?
He was currently experiencing that era firsthand in the Panlong World, and he knew for certain that the bandit problem in Longchuan had begun as nothing more than a superficial nuisance. No one could have foreseen that it would later fester into a gaping wound that even Panlong City could not mend.
As for Xiao Maoliang penetrating deep into Longchuan and killing six hundred people during the bandit purge, records existed in Yuheng City, and He Lingchuan understood full well what that entailed. No matter how one sugarcoated it, an army was a machine of war, naturally inclined toward violent solutions. The more He Lingchuan learned about Panlong City's past, the clearer it became to him that neither Zhong Shengguang nor General Red were softhearted individuals.
Means inevitably served ends.
Moreover, though both the county gazetteer and local clan histories referred to the "Panlong troops," He Lingchuan knew very well that the force stationed in Yuheng City to suppress Longchuan was neither the Gale Army nor even the Panlong City Army. Rather, it was a locally raised force formed by absorbing local Xiluo and Changhou people—namely, the Yuheng City Army.
It had undergone little training and lacked anything close to the Gale Army's combat experience, so in terms of martial prowess, it could hardly be compared with the other two.
Could Panlong City have deployed the Gale Army to garrison Yuheng City solely for bandit suppression?
It was likely not that simple.
Though none of the books mentioned it, He Lingchuan knew Panlong City had constantly faced pressure from the west and the north. The Gale Army had to focus on guarding Panlong City itself; that was their home base.
Even if Zhong Shengguang could spare a portion of his troops for Yuheng City, it would merely be a drop in the ocean, incapable of altering the deadlock or shifting the grand momentum.
When all was said and done, bone had to grow its own flesh; Yuheng City had to figure out its own way to fend off external aggression.
From the perspective of later generations, regardless of why Yuheng City failed in its bandit-clearing campaigns, it inflicted severe repercussions upon its mother city, Panlong City. The gradual abandonment of the southern trade route forced Panlong City's access to the outside world shut, leaving it once again besieged on all sides and utterly isolated.
Was Fu Shanlie the mastermind behind the Longchuan banditry? Unknown, but he had won that round of the game.
Was Panlong City's ultimate decline related to this turn of events? He Lingchuan could not say for sure, but three feet of ice did not freeze in a single cold day.
As these disadvantages and predicaments steadily accumulated, they would inevitably trigger a qualitative shift.
So for him—for a He Lingchuan blessed with foreknowledge of history's course—was there any way to reverse this situation?
The Longchuan bandit crisis was indeed complicated.
Its geography was complex, its factions varied, and human hearts convoluted.
Yet could this very complexity, in turn, be put to his use?
He Lingchuan harbored an even bolder ambition:
In history, Yuheng City had failed.
If he could turn that failing tide, might it mean Panlong City, which had met the same doomed end, could also achieve a different outcome?
The temptation was simply too immense to resist.
Forget any ridiculous talk about "what good does altering an illusory history do?" An illusory history could not grant him real origin power, but Panlong City could.
If Panlong City could weather its tribulations and change its destiny, what would that mean for him, for the Dafang Pot, and perhaps even for the real world?
He was brimming with anticipation.
Time trickled by as he pondered.
The night grew deep, and Blackwater City sank into heavy slumber beneath the dark.
***
He Chunhua lay down fully clothed, on the verge of drifting to sleep.
This was a habit developed during his recent campaigning, making it easy to rise at a moment's notice during the night.
Quelling rebellions, suppressing bandits, and implementing policies in the south had taxed his mind and body. Then he had pushed west without pause to reach Blackwater City. After such a jarring journey, he desperately needed a good rest tonight.
Yet not long after lying down, he sat back up, rubbing his eyes as he went to close the window.
Afterward, he laid down a ward, took out a statuette and set it facing east, and lit seven sticks of incense—a routine he had performed so often it came second nature.
When the hazy gray smoke coalesced into a vague human face inside the room, He Chunhua's voice rasped with the huskiness of sleep deprivation:
"Greetings, Divine Lord."
"Have you arrived in Blackwater City?"
"Yes. Does the Divine Lord have any instructions?" He was utterly exhausted.
"Is He Lingchuan here as well?"
"He is. I must find a way to take him to the Panlong Ruins; anomalies have been occurring frequently there." He Chunhua briefly described how the crimson light had pierced the heavens tonight.
Yet Nailuotian questioned him in meticulous detail and fell into deep thought for a long while.
After waiting for some time without a response, He Chunhua could not help but ask, "Is there a problem?"
"When a divine artifact reveals itself, strange omens often appear," Nailuotian said slowly. "Yet this commotion is far too immense." It was too conspicuous.
He Chunhua's spirits lifted at once. "In the Divine Lord's view, should we still proceed?"
"Go," Nailuotian said. "The Heavenly Palace may send people as well."
If it backed down, and a divine artifact truly emerged, what if the Dafang Pot fell into the Heavenly Palace's hands...?
He Chunhua was startled. "What? Beijia has sent people too?"
"The Heavenly Palace, not Beijia," Nailuotian corrected him. "A treasure was lost from the Zhaixing Tower, one tied to the Dafang Pot. The Heavenly Palace will not let such a lead slip by. They might have arrived long ago."
If the Heavenly Palace was also entering the fray... He Chunhua steadied his nerves. "What are our chances of success?"
"You need not fear. The Panlong Ruins are hardly the Heavenly Palace's domain," Nailuotian sneered coldly. "Ancient Panlong City and the Heavenly Palace are old adversaries. The stronger the contingent the Heavenly Palace sends, the greater the resistance they may encounter within the ruins or the secret realm. Do not stick your neck out; let the Heavenly Palace trigger the traps first. Remember, your most crucial task is to choose the most opportune moment to summon me!"
Chapter 810