Chapter 37: Divergence

Except for him and Situ Han, the food the others had prepared for themselves was quite sumptuous. The dried salted meat Nian Songyu brought looked unremarkable, dark and reddish, but once toasted over the fire, it gave off a pungent, savory aroma, clearly seasoned with many spices. Cutting off two slices to pair with a fine white flour pancake made the expedition feel two parts like a picnic. He Chunhua mixed a bowl of oil-flour tea. Once hit with boiling water, the fragrance of sesame and peanuts drifted further than the scent of the meat. He even added some cashew nuts and walnuts, instantly elevating the quality.

He Lingchuan had always felt that drinking this sort of thing was only satisfying if you slurped it down like a storm, but his old man’s table manners were refined, quiet and soundless.

Hearing the State Preceptor’s words, He Chunhua pondered for a moment, and his expression changed: "Went at the wrong time? Wait, he couldn't possibly be talking about the Sandstorm Season, could he?"

"All treasure-hunting teams avoid the Sandstorm Season, and thus return empty-handed. Zhu Gen exhausted every known method and divine ability, yet could not detect the existence of the Great Square Pot. Therefore, he concluded that this treasure was likely well-hidden by Zhong Shengguang, or even by the deity he worshipped, and that finding it requires meeting a prerequisite," Sun Fuping said slowly. "Otherwise, even if latecomers searched every inch of the Panlong ruins, they would never find it."

He Lingchuan’s mouth was slick with oil, eating with gusto, but it didn't stop him from talking: "Zhong Shengguang resented the Allied Forces, so of course he wouldn't want them to get the Great Square Pot. Is there a possibility that the Great Square Pot was taken back by the deity and is no longer in the mortal realm? And all the strange phenomena in the Panlong Desert now are the work of vengeful spirits—uh, no, heroic spirits. After all, Three-Corpse Insects are born from human bodies; they aren't exclusive to the Great Square Pot."

He followed the principle that no matter how hard things get, you shouldn't make your mouth suffer; he first tore into a soy-braised goose leg, then crunched away on two fragrant noodle pancakes.

The noodles local to Heishuicheng were chewy and springy after being boiled, and after being dried with hot air, they were actually somewhat similar to his good companion from the other world: instant noodles. The locals would boil the noodles, coat them in flour, fry them into pancakes in a pan, and sprinkle them with chili and spices—it was a high-quality dry ration, suitable for both home and travel.

He Lingchuan had specifically requested extra meat and eggs at the time.

He cultivated the Martial Dao, so his appetite was much larger than others; he couldn't go a meal without staples and meat.

He was practically a glutton, and his eating habits were crude. Nian Songyu glanced at him with disdain: "The Three-Corpse Insects that can even invade a sorcerer must be a specialty of the Great Square Pot."

From the moment a person is born, the Three-Corpse Insects accompany them; the older they grow, the more mischief they cause, muddling thoughts, fueling greed, and spawning evil intentions. Thus, they are also known as the "Three-Corpse Gods," and are by no means as shallow as mere insects. For a person to cultivate and attain the Dao, a necessary hurdle is to wield the sword of wisdom and sever the three corpses, exchanging them for a clear mind and eye.

Of course, this refers to severing the Three-Corpse Insects within one's own body.

The Three-Corpse Insects lurking in the Panlong Desert can even infect sorcerers with clear minds and can remain active outdoors for long periods; they fear nothing but sunlight.

This enhanced version of the Three-Corpse Insects must have come out of the Great Square Pot.

He Lingchuan chuckled: "According to the State Preceptor’s logic, the Great Square Pot only appears during the Sandstorm Season?"

"Highly likely."

"Then we won't accompany you; you can stay and play at your leisure." He Lingchuan stood up abruptly and walked out without looking back, "Old man, let's go home!"

Sandstorm Season? Are you kidding me? There are thousands of ways to commit suicide; he didn't need to make a special trip here for that!

A figure flashed before his eyes; Nian Songyu stood with his sword, blocking the stairwell: "Go back and sit down, or I’ll send you on your way right now, no need to wait for the Sandstorm Season!"

"Oh?" He Lingchuan laughed instead of getting angry, "So soon, showing your true colors?" He turned to his father, "Old man, these two only want to use us as cannon fodder. Are you leaving or not?"

He Chunhua set down his half-finished tea, stood up, and said: "The State Preceptor has planned everything perfectly and holds victory in his grasp. It seems that even without the help of Heishuicheng, you can still seize the treasure and return."

Nian Songyu’s smile turned ferocious: "Do you think this is still Heishuicheng? Killing you is as easy as killing a chicken! With you two gone, this team of over two hundred will still be under my command; who would dare object!"

If the He father and son were dead, the highest-ranking person would naturally take power. This team would remain in their hands.

Ceng Feixuan had already stood up, and at this moment, with a "clang," his blade was half-drawn: "Commandant Nian, watch your words! We only support Governor He!"

The personal guards stationed outside the building heard the commotion and rushed in, surrounding everyone.

In just a few words, the situation had become tense.

He Lingchuan’s eyes darted around. What would happen if they tore off the mask now? Would the two of them dare to kill his father and him? Not to mention that Nian Songyu was a fierce man, could his own two hundred men handle State Preceptor Sun?

Was this a good chance to take them both out? These thoughts flashed through his mind, and the answers were obvious: they would dare, they couldn't, and it wasn't.

It seemed they couldn't escape unscathed; they had to think of another way.

"Young man, your temper is truly fiery." Sun Fuping dropped his pancake and gulped down a few mouthfuls of water, "Governor He, you have always had a reputation for being steady; why are you following this kid’s lead? If this were a certain death trap, would I travel a thousand miles to die?"

Before Governor He could speak, He Lingchuan answered for him: "You wouldn't; you’d only let us die."

These two old and young things had been harboring ill intentions from the very beginning.

Nian Songyu squinted at him: "Still trying to raise the price? Still think once wasn't enough?"

He looked at He Lingchuan, and the more he looked, the more disgusted he felt; He Lingchuan looked at him, and it was the same.

Neither of them bothered to hide it anymore.

"Everything else is negotiable, State Preceptor, but where the sandstorm passes, all life is extinguished. Not to mention playing around, we shouldn't even have the thought of trying!" He Chunhua coughed, "Besides, the food and water we carry can only last another three to five days, not enough to drag it out until the Sandstorm Season arrives."

He was trying to ease the atmosphere, and Sun Fuping was very cooperative: "If we can trigger the Sandstorm Season, I am confident I can lead everyone out safely; if we cannot, we will return to Heishuicheng before the real Sandstorm Season arrives, how about that?"

"Trigger the Sandstorm Season?" the sand bandit leader Situ Han couldn't help but interject, "Can this thing be triggered early?"

And then die early? He had been huddled in the corner the whole time, quietly finishing a naan bread and taking out a few black-skinned scorpions to roast. He knew he had no right to speak; everyone here was his superior.

But as he listened, why did it feel like he was on a path to nowhere? "Wait, please wait!" He thought about it, and his expression changed, "There are still people on the Red Cliff Road; if the Sandstorm Season appears early, they will surely die!"

"There are only a few days left until the Sandstorm Season; everyone knows better than to fight for the last copper coin." Nian Songyu was unconcerned, "Besides, in previous years, the Sandstorm Season wasn't specific to a certain month, day, or hour. Governor He, hasn't there been casualties on this road every year regardless?"

(End of chapter)