What he needed to practice was his accuracy.
Having trained in martial arts for years, his stance and movements were steady. But after shooting several arrows, his hit rate proved abysmal, and two had missed the target completely.
So that successful flying-dagger throw in the Panlong Desert to save his father really had been pure dumb luck.
No, He Chunhua had been the lucky one—not getting his skull split open by his own son's blade.
He Lingchuan was not discouraged. Recalling how Hu Min shot with effortless precision, as if the bow were an extension of his own arm, he knew such skill was not mastered overnight.
After drawing the bow fifty times, He Lingchuan set down the heavy bow, relaxed his sore shoulders and arms, regulated his true qi, and began practicing with his saber.
This was what he had wanted to do ever since waking up.
Closing his eyes, he slowly recalled the desperate battle of the previous night.
Every parry, every dodge, every wound, every direct blow, and—
Every kill!
In the dream, he had slain six enemies and wounded or assisted in downing nineteen more.
Now, those images replayed with crystal clarity in his mind, freezing and magnifying, allowing him to calmly record every success and scrutinize every mistake.
He even remembered Commander Xiao's saber: crisp, clean, fierce, and decisive, without a hint of hesitation.
And Meng Shan—such ferocious, domineering presence, unyielding even in the face of a mountain of blades or a sea of flames, that even Commander Xiao had avoided meeting him head-on.
He Lingchuan felt as if he were back on yesterday's battlefield.
By the time he came to his senses, he had finished a routine of saber forms. His saber intent felt fluid and harmonious; many points that had once seemed obscure now suddenly became clear.
Just then, an osmanthus blossom drifted down. He Lingchuan slashed out, the edge of his blade stopping about an inch from the petal.
The blossom seemed to hesitate slightly in midair, then resumed drifting down along its original path.
Completely unharmed.
The servant standing in the corner of the courtyard could hardly bear to watch, but He Lingchuan seemed quite satisfied, even letting a faint smile slip.
Wielding a blade generated wind; the faster the blade, the stronger the wind.
The osmanthus blossom had been less than an inch from the edge yet remained undisturbed by the blade-wind. That was precisely his progress.
In truth, He Lingchuan had already developed a trace of blade qi, but controlling it at will was far harder than it sounded. Moving from overt release to restrained containment was a long road ahead.
Still, when had his memory become so sharp that he could recall every detail of last night, reviewing and savoring it frame by frame?
Thinking back, both dreams had been like this.
Most likely, this was the broken saber's doing as well.
He returned to drawing the bow, then practiced the saber again, repeating the cycle several times.
Seeing the sun slowly sinking in the west, the servant had to remind him, "Eldest Young Master, do not forget the Madam's instructions."
What had Madam Ying instructed? He Lingchuan pondered for a good while before recalling that she wanted him to distribute invitations widely among Blackwater City's high society, inviting them to the He residence tomorrow evening for a tail-burning banquet.
When an official was promoted and colleagues and relatives came to congratulate him, the host would prepare a lavish feast with music and dance, known as a "tail-burning banquet." Having performed great deeds and leaped several ranks, He Chunhua naturally had to host a magnificent banquet.
Wrap up practice, bathe, get to work.
By the time He Lingchuan finished delivering the invitations and returned home, the bright moon had already risen.
He glanced at the broken saber on the wall. Lying down to sleep, he felt a flutter of excitement, hoping he might dream of Panlong again tonight.
He urgently wanted to know the outcome of the battle on the riverbed.
Alas, the night was dreamless.
***
Three days flew by in the blink of an eye.
With Commandery Governor He's promotion, Blackwater City buzzed with festive excitement. Even the servants of the He residence enjoyed being treated like stars surrounded by planets whenever they stepped out.
The He residence was bustling with visitors; those arriving to offer congratulations and gifts nearly wore down the threshold.
Most of these guests were received by He Yue, as He Chunhua was busy finalizing the roster for his personal guard.
The Blackwater City troops currently numbered just over 1,300 men. He could not empty the ranks completely and take them all. After careful selection, he settled on three hundred.
These three hundred elites would be the foundation for his flourishing rise in Xiazhou. In that regard, loyalty mattered even more than martial prowess.
Among them were three commanders, including Zeng Feixiong.
He Lingchuan was quite surprised that this devoted filial son was willing to head north with them. Upon inquiring, he learned that Zeng Feixiong's father had passed away suddenly five days earlier. Before dying, his mind had cleared, allowing father and son a proper heart-to-heart at last.
Having fulfilled his wish to see his elderly father to his final rest, Zeng Feixiong had no remaining ties, and thus held no lingering attachment to Blackwater City.
In fact, one of He Chunhua's criteria for selecting guards was strong, youthful bachelors, preferably unburdened by families. Otherwise, traveling thousands of li on military duty with guards towing dependents would severely slow the marching speed.
Besides these, He Chunhua also brought along several advisors.
Madam Ying was busy settling wages and dismissing the household servants. Apart from the old steward, the He family took only two attendants on the road—one man and one woman—both loyal servants who had served for seven or eight years.
Everything on the road was kept simple; they could hire new staff once they reached their destination.
Uncle Hao was also willing to go to Xiazhou, but He Chunhua assigned him to remain in Blackwater City temporarily to help settle the family's assets, intending for him to head north in three to five months.
He Lingchuan also saw Situ Han. The sand bandits were not going.
"We can't go. Our families are all here, counting on us." By now, Situ Han and the sand bandits had been integrated into the city troops. Enlisted and drawing imperial provisions, they were content with their comfortable lives and unwilling to travel thousands of li into the unknown of Xiazhou.
Who did not know that going there meant fighting a war? When one could live peacefully, who would volunteer for the front lines? Situ Han shoved Maotao forward. "Only this brat insists on following you." No amount of dissuasion worked—reckless to the core.
He Lingchuan asked curiously, "Isn't your woman in Blackwater City?"
"We broke it off yesterday. She even slapped me twice." Maotao grinned, completely unfazed. "I heard the girls in Xiazhou have bigger, lovelier eyes, not like the rough broads around here. There are thousands of li of fertile plains out there—why should I tie myself to this scrap of barren dirt?"
Factoring in essential family members, baggage train, and logistical personnel, He Chunhua's party ultimately numbered over 430 people.
He Lingchuan had not expected that the first person he saw upon stepping out the door would be Liu Baobao. The fellow hurried up carrying a wooden box. "Eldest Young Master, this is what you told me to procure a few days ago. Consider it a parting gift!"
Intrigued, He Lingchuan took it and opened it, only to find several bottles of fine, white powder.
The bottles were absurdly large.
"Uh..." No matter how he looked at it, this stuff resembled contraband. "Did I really tell you to get something like this?"
No, absolutely not. How could he? He was an upstanding, promising young man.
"Didn't you ask for medicine that relieves pain immediately without hindering movement?" Liu Baobao pointed to the powder inside. "This is it! It's called Shituo powder."
He Lingchuan was relieved and gladly accepted it.
Beaming from ear to ear, Liu Baobao bowed in farewell. "When you rise to great wealth and prominence in the future, Eldest Young Master, do not forget your old acquaintances in this border town."
"Naturally!" He Lingchuan readily agreed.
That morning, the He family and their four-hundred-strong guard regiment drank their departure tea, bid farewell to the common folk, and departed Blackwater City amid the cheering crowds lining the streets, setting forth toward the north.
Chapter 95