Chapter 38: Did You Not Die?

If Guan Huchen hadn’t deliberately held back.

As for the Emperor of Nanzhan Zhonghua, he didn’t truly know much about him.

In his account, he only endlessly emphasized how vast the territory under the Emperor’s rule was—the Four Regions of East, South, West, and North—with countless kingdoms acknowledging Zhonghua Da Qin as their suzerain, and Da Qin’s generals each stronger than gods and immortals, impossibly formidable...

In truth, Da Qin’s strength needed no further emphasis from Huchen.

Simply the fact that the Marquis of Relying Sun crossed the Liusha River and crushed the thirty-six western kingdoms was enough to perfectly prove Da Qin’s authority.

She wanted to understand the root of Da Qin’s greatness.

How could the Emperor bestow titles upon ghosts and gods, and how did he suppress the two dominant supernatural groups—the demons and the immortals?

Huchen didn’t know.

To the people of Da Qin, he was merely a barbarian from the frontier.

Unlike other frontier vassal states’ “barbarians,” Huchen had an ancestor who was a City God.

That ancestor, Old Lord Guan, seemed restless.

Though he had already become a ghost god, with mortals and spirits on separate paths, he remained deeply entangled with his living family.

Yet thanks to Old Lord Guan’s affection and care for his descendants, Huchen’s understanding of Da Qin far surpassed that of other westerners.

Now, after hearing Huchen’s detailed accounts of numerous events, she was no longer completely clueless about Da Qin.

For instance, the prophecy: “Those who destroy Qin are the Hu.”

The root of the chaos in the thirty-six kingdoms lay in this prophecy.

“Hu” meant the Hu people—the barbarians—all non-Zhonghua ethnic groups beyond the southern frontier.

Huchen didn’t know the exact time when this prophecy emerged.

He wasn’t even certain how many people in the western kingdoms knew of it.

Before Old Lord Guan explained Da Qin’s situation to him, he had never encountered any related information.

In fact, when telling Xiao Yu this prophecy, Huchen hesitated repeatedly.

Considering Xiao Yu was born with innate wisdom, wasn’t foolish, wouldn’t spread rumors carelessly, and was herself a “Hu” yet intended to serve the Emperor in Xianyang Palace, he decided it was best she first understood Da Qin’s greatest taboo—and whispered it to her.

Once she learned the prophecy “Those who destroy Qin are the Hu,” Xiao Yu suddenly understood many things.

Why had the Qingsong Daoist boy traveled thousands of miles to Shahu, insisted on dragging her out, and ultimately severed the tiny “barbarian dragon” beneath Shahu...

“The First Emperor’s resolve was too great, too ruthless; Da Qin’s execution capability was terrifyingly strong. Da Qin may truly... be on the verge of collapse.”

Xiao Yu silently sighed within.

For the sake of one prophecy, Da Qin unswervingly carried out its “suppression of foreign ethnic groups” plan.

Eliminating all threats and hidden dangers from foreign Hu barbarians didn’t make her feel Da Qin’s rule was secure.

On the contrary, she felt this astonishingly powerful “Immortal Dynasty” was on the brink of total collapse.

With Da Qin’s current strength, it was nearly impossible for foreign ethnic groups to overthrow it.

Even if Da Qin were to fall, it could only fall from within.

Conversely, as long as Da Qin’s internal affairs remained stable, the external “Hu” could never destroy Qin.

Yet now, the Emperor seemed to direct more attention and energy toward surrounding foreign ethnic groups.

The western vassal states, established by Zhonghua migrants, were all being suppressed.

Of course, Xiao Yu didn’t deny her own speculation.

Her conclusion that “Da Qin will fall” stemmed largely from comparing it to the outcome of Qin in her past life.

In Huchen’s description, the Emperor was at the height of his power—the heavens might collapse, but Da Qin would endure, with not the slightest hint of danger or instability.

Da Qin and the Emperor were still too distant from her; Xiao Yu asked Huchen to end the “Da Qin information exchange.”

“Father, there’s still time before lunch. Teach me another sword form.”

Huchen didn’t refuse. He returned with her to the herb-drying yard, used a sword instead of a knife, and taught her the training method of the “Rip the Sky Saber.”

After lunch, Xiao Yu wanted to continue learning, but Huchen declined.

He was ultimately a Commandant of the Shu Kingdom’s Iron Cavalry.

After resting two days at home, he needed to return to the Prefect’s office to reorganize his troops.

But Huchen left Guan Zhong at home.

Guan Zhong wasn’t a martial arts master, nor had he cultivated the heart mantra or breathing techniques of the “Tiger Soul Seven Kill,” but he knew its training method.

The training method could strengthen the body and handle ordinary bandits.

Guan Zhong’s technique was terrible.

Having seen Huchen’s swordplay, Xiao Yu always thought the old servant moved stiffly and clumsily.

Not to mention spiritual essence—even his movements weren’t fluid.

But Guan Zhong was obedient.

Xiao Yu wanted to learn all forty-nine forms, and Guan Zhong didn’t, like Huchen, urge her to progress gradually step by step.

He faithfully demonstrated each of the forty-nine forms in sequence and explained them in detail.

When Huchen returned in the evening, he corrected Xiao Yu’s mistakes in Guan Zhong’s forms, spending nearly two hours.

“You’re too eager. Martial skill isn’t forged in a day. Even if you, Yu’er, have extraordinary talent, you still need time to slowly refine your forms and physique.”

Afterward, Huchen sternly warned her again not to be restless or impatient, lest she injure her body through improper practice.

Xiao Yu carefully memorized every word he said.

Whether or not Huchen’s talent and realm were superior, his experience cultivating the “Tiger Soul Seven Kill” far exceeded hers.

Yet when she returned to her own courtyard, Xiao Yu still practiced the forms in the open space.

The courtyard assigned to Xiao Yu by the Guan family wasn’t large.

Inside the walls, there was only forty to fifty square meters of space; at the corners beside the gate, purple bamboo and camellias had been planted.

To the east stood a swing; to the west, several rock formations and a fish tank with lotus, containing seven or eight small goldfish.

For living, the courtyard had a certain charm; for martial training, it was far too cramped.

She couldn’t freely move left and right; she had to constantly watch her steps, avoiding the walls.

Yet she still trained with great ease, entering a state of absorption, unaware of time passing.

When she felt exhausted, her mind grew dazed, her movements stiffened, and her forms became disordered, she stopped.

“Huh? Why is it so dark? Where are Xia Zhi and Yong Xue? Why didn’t they light the lamps? Did they get too tired and go to sleep already?”

The front yard was dim, the rooms without any light.

Even at a distance of several meters, the shapes of the houses were blurry.

Around her, silence reigned—no insect chirps, no dog barks.

“Xia—” Xiao Yu, confused and bewildered, was about to call for her maids, when a loud shout came from afar.

“Come over, hurry over, everyone gather here! There’s a grand show!”

“Who’s shouting?”

Xiao Yu frowned and took a few steps toward the sound.

Still no one in sight.

The night guards and retainers, who normally patrolled, were nowhere to be seen.

The gate stood wide open; the alleys and corridors held no lights.

Two large lanterns hung at the main gate, yet they were dark, unlit.

Outside the gate, Xiao Yu faintly heard singing from the south, accompanied by distant, elusive music of strings and flutes.

The street was empty and equally dark.

The houses on both sides resembled black beasts, holding their breath, lurking—filling her with inexplicable unease.

“Come quickly! The grand show’s starting! There’s a feast waiting for us!”

Xiao Yu heard the voice again, clearer than before.

“Wang Er, slow down—I’m slow on my feet, wait for me!”

Another voice, seemingly a young man.

“Gui Sheng, I can wait for you, but the Sun Squire won’t wait for me! Hurry up, you’re small—I’ll carry you.”

“Thank you, Brother Wang.”

Gui Sheng seemed already lifted onto his back; his voice rapidly faded.

“By the way, Gui Sheng, where’s your father? Why didn’t he come?” Brother Wang asked.

“Ah, my father has a headache—he can’t come,” Gui Sheng sighed.

Brother Wang said: “So he didn’t attend last night’s grand banquet at General Guan’s?”

“No, his headache was too severe. My legs are slow, and we live far out at San Cha Ridge—too distant from General Guan’s mansion. I couldn’t go! Brother Wang went? I heard General Guan is Shu’s greatest general—what kind of grand display did they put on?” Gui Sheng asked curiously.

Xiao Yu wondered: Were they referring to Guan Huchen?

What grand banquet had the Guan family held last night?

She quickened her pace, wanting to catch up and ask.

“Dedede~~~~” A crisp sound of hooves approached from behind.

Xiao Yu immediately stopped and turned around, seeing an old man wearing a blue futou and a hemp robe, riding a small donkey and galloping forward desperately.

Soon, the donkey carried the old squire to her side.

The elder greeted her: “Little girl, are you also going to the Sun Squire’s for the vegetarian feast?”

Xiao Yu’s mind was especially foggy; she mumbled a response, still considering how to answer, when she suddenly noticed the old man’s hemp robe was strange.

The hemp robe was a “Hanfu,” with a right-slanting lapel.

The lapel is where the two sides of the garment overlap and meet.

In modern times, lapels are fastened with zippers or buttons.

At this moment, Xiao Yu noticed a distinct lapel on the robe, but when she blinked and looked closely, the lapel seemed to have no seam.

His lapel was not formed by two pieces of fabric overlapping—it was as if both sides were originally one single piece of cloth.

Like a lapel was “painted” onto a pullover.

Superfluous.

She wanted to examine it more closely, but the old squire never slowed down; in a blink, he dashed past her side, calling out quickly: “Girl, you can’t move so slowly! If you’re late, you’ll miss the grand opera, miss the vegetarian feast, and not even pick up a single yuanbao coin—wasting your whole night for nothing!”

“Hey, isn’t that Master Qin? Why are you here too?” Guisheng called out.

Seeing Wang Er and Guisheng, Master Qin patted his donkey and slowed his pace.

“If you and Wang Er can come, why can’t an old man like me?” Master Qin chuckled.

“You’re joking—how could a mere boy compare to you? You yourself are a squire; why bother rushing to Sun Squire’s vegetarian feast? He’s hardly as wealthy as you.”

“Besides, I know Master Qin lives on the southern bank of Feixian Ferry—making the trip to Sun Village is no small feat,” Guisheng said with quick wit.

Wang Er added: “Last night, General Guan hosted such a grand banquet—so many people attended. Yet you, Master Qin, didn’t show up. Didn’t you hear about it? Didn’t you know?”

Master Qin dismissed it: “Someone did invite me, but Guan’s house had only a banquet—no grand opera.”

“I don’t lack money or food—I only love watching grand operas.”

Guisheng said: “If you love opera, why not arrive earlier? Look and listen—up ahead, the performance has already begun.”

Master Qin sighed heavily: “Yesterday morning, I fed my donkey and set out early, determined to reach Sun Village before the opera started. But halfway, I ran into a cursed spirit and got lost.”

Wang Er exclaimed: “In these three villages and eight hamlets nearby, how could you get lost? Even someone like you, a local squire, let alone Guisheng—a newcomer who’s only been here two years—has never gotten lost.”

Master Qin’s voice was thick with misfortune and resentment: “Between Feixian Ferry and Sun Village, I’ve walked this path hundreds, even thousands of times in my life—how could I not know the way?”

“But tonight, I encountered a cursed spirit who changed the very road!”

“What cursed spirit? How did it change the road?” Guisheng asked in astonishment.

“I didn’t know him. I only saw he was terrifyingly massive, carrying two large flags—one white, one black. He unfurled the black flag and planted it beside the road... Hey, can you guess what happened?”

“What happened?”

“The flag turned into a dougong archway. The road was still the same road—but once you walked through it, mist and clouds swirled around you, as if you’d flown into the clouds, and the path ahead vanished completely! I circled around countless times, wasting one or two hours before—”

Before Master Qin could finish, a small head suddenly popped up from behind, looking bewildered: “Old sir, you just said ‘in my life’—does that mean you’re dead now?”

“Do you think I’m not dead?” Master Qin turned around, his voice cold and sinister.

In an instant, Xiao Yu’s hair stood on end.