He Chunhua immediately followed up, "Venerable Divinity, I have always harbored a question. Pray enlighten me."
"Speak."
"Why are the gods so fiercely obsessed with pursuing the Dafang Pot?"
From Mitian more than a century ago, to the unidentified celestial god who descended upon Nian Songyu two years back, to the gods of Lingxu, and now this Nailuotian whom he served—every single one coveted the Dafang Pot.
Their passion ran deeper than a mouse's love for honey. Why?
Nailuotian knew this was He Chunhua demanding a show of good faith, a prerequisite before signing a divine covenant with Kunsu.
If Nailuotian refused to divulge even a small secret, why should He Chunhua wager his own life and fortune?
These cunning mortals. Hah!
It spoke slowly. "In truth, Lingxu fears it falling into the hands of other celestial gods far more than seeing it held by mortals."
"Why?" He Chunhua instantly thought of Panlong City and Mitian.
Taken that way, had Mitian—wielder of the Dafang Pot over a century ago—been the one the gods feared most?
Well, that seemed to fit. Otherwise, why would Panlong City and Zhong Shengguang have met their end in such tragic, heroic defiance?
Slaughtering an entire city was in itself an expression of hatred and fear.
"Very few even in the divine realm are privy to this secret." Which meant that knowledgeable celestial gods were also a tiny minority. Nailuotian's avatar hesitated before continuing, "Even I... can only draw deductions based on the intelligence in my hands."
So even Nailuotian did not dare make guarantees? That only stoked He Chunhua's curiosity.
What kind of secret was it that even an orthodox god of such dignity and power could not fully comprehend?
"Your Venerable Divinity's deductions must be sound and authoritative." Flattery came cheap and easy, so he let it flow.
Were He Lingchuan here, he would have understood the subtext in Nailuotian's words:
It had originally been nothing more than an obscure wild deity, just like Shi Nan. Only after utilizing the Dragon-Torture Pillar to hoard massive quantities of nightmare energy did its power skyrocket, allowing it to climb to the rank of an orthodox god. But having entered that circle so recently, its grasp of ancient secrets was bound to be inferior to that of long-established orthodox gods.
Even so, deductions from Nailuotian still carried weight.
"The gods of Lingxu have always suspected that Mitian never truly perished."
He Chunhua was astonished. "More than a hundred and fifty years ago, when Panlong City fell, did they not see Mitian's demise with their own eyes?"
"No! It seems you truly know nothing." Nailuotian's tone turned strange. "Mitian had already perished much earlier. Even the Emperor's Flowing Dew descended upon the mortal realm. The divine realm has long confirmed this; there is no mistake."
"..." He Chunhua stared, stunned and at a loss for words. "What?"
If Mitian had fallen before the final battle, then who was it that led Panlong City in holding out until the very end?!
"How... how did Mitian perish?"
"Unknown."
"How could that be?" Even the God of Fate could not divine it? But on second thought, He Chunhua remembered his own experience tonight—the God of Fate was clearly not omniscient.
It had been outwitted by He Lingchuan, after all.
"Mitian fell, Zhong Shengguang and Panlong City were defeated, and the Dafang Pot merged into the Panlong Ruins. Everything appeared to be concluded," Nailuotian continued. "However, Mitian's vessel was excessively powerful, defying common sense and remaining an inexplicable mystery. Coupled with the fact that Mitian had disappeared for a long time prior to that demise, certain celestial gods believed—"
Nailuotian paused before resuming, "—that Mitian had attempted to use the Dafang Pot to descend upon the mortal realm!"
"?!" Had he heard correctly?
Before He Chunhua could speak, Nailuotian's avatar added, "When I say descend, I do not mean an avatar's divine descent!"
"You mean Mitian was able to breach the boundary between the two realms using the Dafang Pot and directly—" He Chunhua gestured vaguely at the ground, "—descend into the mortal world in true body?"
"A deduction! This is merely a deduction!" Nailuotian corrected. "Reliable sources suggest that Holy Venerable Lingxu believes so as well. As to whether this deduction is true or false, there is no way to prove it yet. But the Dafang Pot is extraordinarily unique; if it truly possesses such capability, I would not find it surprising."
"Do you understand now? On one hand, the gods of Lingxu fear that other celestial gods might use the Dafang Pot to descend directly in their true bodies. Once that occurs, it would mean utter catastrophe for the entire divine realm. On the other hand, they suspect that although Mitian perished, the divine soul remains indestructible, surviving in some alternative manner—such as living inside the Dafang Pot."
"Therefore, whoever possesses the Dafang Pot becomes a target for all."
"So that's how it is." Remembering how that singular treasure had slipped through his fingers, He Chunhua felt his throat go dry.
Ah, well. He simply lacked the fortune for it.
"In any case, the strife stirred by the Dafang Pot is strictly an internal affair of our divine realm and has nothing to do with you mortals," Nailuotian said indifferently. "Even if we cannot obtain it, the descent of the gods will only be delayed a little longer."
He Chunhua's eyes went wide at the final sentence.
What did that mean?!
Surely... surely it wasn't what he was imagining?
"Your choice to seek a master now is wise." Nailuotian mentioned it only in passing before immediately changing the subject. "Regarding He Lingchuan, how do you intend to explain matters to everyone else? As I see it, he will not be showing himself again anytime soon."
He Chunhua forced himself to regain composure. "Your Venerable Divinity is wise; I believe so as well."
After the Panlong Realm dissolved, he had briefly worried that He Lingchuan might turn back for an ambush. But thinking it over calmly, he felt he had been overly anxious.
If He Lingchuan truly wanted to kill him, the best opportunity had been inside the Panlong Realm when father and son confronted each other, with only Zhao Qinghe by He Chunhua's side.
Yet his 'eldest son' had never struck, showing that his intent to kill was not particularly strong.
After emerging from the Panlong Realm, He Chunhua was once again surrounded by troops and commanders. He Lingchuan was shorthanded and possessed no power base in the Yuan Kingdom; the balance of strength had reversed.
That young man was meticulous and would never put himself in jeopardy. Therefore, just as Nailuotian said, He Lingchuan was unlikely to reappear anytime soon.
The clearest proof was that the Mount Rong sect members had all vanished.
Across these vast yellow sands, finding He Lingchuan and that dozen-odd people would be all but impossible.
Yet he had brought his eldest son along, only to return without a living soul in his place. He truly needed to provide an accounting to his household and to the outside world.
He Chunhua said slowly, "Both internally and externally, I shall declare that Chuan'er died in battle at Panlong City. As for the disciples of Mount Rong, they returned home after the expedition to the Panlong Desert concluded."
At any rate, the funds loaned by Mount Rong to the Yuan royal court had already been delivered.
Nailuotian grunted in acknowledgment, then asked, "Once you return to Yazhou, do you intend to march north against Dong Haoming?"
"No, certainly not." He Chunhua glanced down at his wounds. "I am severely injured and require proper recuperation."
Nailuotian chuckled softly, its voice dripping with mockery.
After that, the incense on the low table burned out.
***
The sky was bright; it was near the end of the Hour of the Sheep, around three in the afternoon.
Returning to reality, He Lingchuan found himself standing within the ruins of Weicheng, a good five li away from Panlong City.
The Dafang Pot was quite considerate. Knowing that the Panlong Ruins were currently crawling with outside lookouts, it had deposited him outside altogether.
Yet this also demonstrated the Dafang Pot's degree of control over this desert.
Weighted with heavy thoughts, he walked outward. The Weicheng ruins were completely deserted at present. When he raised his head, he saw something swimming through the yellow sands, coming to a halt right before him.
Another earth dragon.
Practice made familiar. He Lingchuan leaped onto the earth dragon's back, and the creature shot forward swiftly and steadily.
Though he had been toiling for hours, he felt no fatigue; instead, his mind raced with clarity.
The past night felt like a dream. While this venture into the Panlong Desert had seen its share of twists and turns, the primary objective had ultimately been achieved: successfully baiting Nailuotian into sending down an avatar, only to trap it inside the Dafang Pot.
This was the fruit of months of meticulous scheming and arduous effort.
He was finally free.
He was finally safe.
This release, devoid of any lingering worries, made even the hot wind whipping against his face feel gentle.
He Lingchuan exhaled a long, heavy breath.
The earth dragon traveled faster through the desert than any other creature, yet by the time they reached Baiyuan Post Station, night had already fallen.
Before entering the sight of other humans, the earth dragon set He Lingchuan down, then turned and swam back into the sea of sand.
Fastening his cloak and veiled bamboo hat, He Lingchuan entered the post station to rendezvous with Qiu Hu and the others.
Those fellows were dining inside a guest room, having sent only the squirrel, Xiao Qiao, outside to act as a lookout.
A quick head count confirmed everyone was present; even his mount, the rock sheep, and the eyeball spider had been brought back by Qiu Hu.
After tossing up a sound-dampening barrier, He Lingchuan inquired about the whereabouts of He Chunhua and his retinue. Upon learning that his father had regrouped with his troops and was heading south back toward Blackwater City, He Lingchuan instinctively seized a cup of wine and drained it in a single gulp.
He Chunhua had survived. Perhaps this was the will of Heaven.
Chapter 856