Chapter 38: The Capital to Return Home Safely

He Chunhua said in a low voice, "There is, but it was by no means intentional on our part."

"Human life is precious, but the battle in the Central Region is a race against time. If we fail to bring back the Dafang Pot in time and the rebels follow the river downstream, the capital could be washed in blood!" Sun Fuping let out a long sigh. "By then, the number of innocent civilians who die will be more than hundreds or thousands... tens of thousands?"

He Chunhua opened his mouth, but no words came out. On one side was the greater good of the nation and the state; on the other, the lives at the border. Which carried more weight?

Seeing that he would no longer speak, Nian Songyu also let out a soft breath, secretly releasing the tension he had been holding.

If Prefect He proved to be pedantic, he wouldn't mind drawing his blade swiftly.

"The Sandstorm Season generally appears every year in September and lasts until February or March of the following year," Sun Fuping said, having these facts well memorized. "But there are occasional exceptions, aren't there?"

He Chunhua thought for a moment and nodded slowly. "There are. The official history of Qiansong Prefecture records that the Sandstorm Season has been irregular for several years, causing massive casualties among people and livestock."

"What does it look like when it arrives?"

"First, there are torrential rains, lightning, and thunder. Then, it sounds as if vengeful ghosts are wailing in the desert, with wind and sand dancing like dragons and serpents." That was why it was called the Sandstorm Season. "At that time, if a person walks into the desert, they will be buried alive within a few breaths. And the wind and sand won't subside until the following year."

"I have also checked the records. In fact, over the past hundred years, the timing of the Sandstorm Season in the Panlong Desert has changed five times. Three times it arrived early, and twice it was delayed. The most recent occurrence was twenty years ago, when the Sandstorm Season was moved forward to mid-May."

He Chunhua also had a memory of it. "I had just arrived in Qiansong Prefecture back then, and the local residents talked about it for many years afterward. Even in the seven years that followed, the traffic on the Red Cliff Trade Route was affected before it slowly recovered."

The reason everyone used the Red Cliff Trade Route was for its safety; if the temperamental Panlong Desert flared up unpredictably, who would dare earn that blood money?

"What is interesting is that I obtained a clue from Grandmaster Zhu Gen: twenty years ago, he sent a team out from the Kingdom of Bali to probe the Panlong Ancient City once more. He did not go personally, but calculating the time, that team should have arrived here around April or May!"

This time, even Nian Songyu was astonished. "State Preceptor, are you saying... that the early Sandstorm Season that year was man-made?"

"It is highly probable! At the very least, the timing aligns," Sun Fuping said. "That team was led by Grandmaster Zhu Gen's most esteemed great-granddisciple. Before departing, he must have received personal instructions, and upon arriving here, they successfully triggered the early Sandstorm Season."

He Lingchuan said with a stern face, "But did they manage to make it back?"

Sun Fuping sighed and shook his head. "That failure was a heavy blow to Grandmaster Zhu Gen. Since then, Bali has no longer organized expeditions to Panlong City."

"Doesn't that prove it's a one-way trip?" He Lingchuan laughed out of sheer anger. "Then why are we even here?"

"If I told you that when the Sandstorm Season arrives, the safest place in the entire desert is actually the Panlong Ancient City?" Sun Fuping turned slightly, pointing to the complete set of coarse porcelain wine vessels on the counter. "Look, are these things capable of withstanding a storm? Yet, from the moment the coalition left the Panlong ruins until now, it remains exactly as it was."

The group's expressions shifted, and they couldn't help but look around.

Indeed, this tavern was open to the wind on three sides, yet the tables and chairs in the front hall and the cooking utensils in the kitchen were all neatly arranged. From Situ Han's angle, he could even see two earthen jars on the stove, filled with either salt or lard. If the sandstorms descended here every year, how could these things be preserved? Furthermore, this tavern, these two rows of street-facing shops, and the many residences in the city were all century-old wooden structures; why hadn't they collapsed under the fierce winds and sand?

Walking into the city, no one had thought much of it until Sun Fuping pointed it out.

He Chunhua let out a soft breath. "There is often no wind in the eye of a storm."

So, even if the Sandstorm Season began and rocks and sand flew wildly outside, the interior of Panlong City remained unaffected.

"You should have said so earlier; we wouldn't have misunderstood," He Lingchuan laughed it off toward the sky, no longer arguing with Nian Songyu, and walked back to sit down and drink water.

Situ Han murmured softly, "But the Sandstorm Season lasts at least four or five months. What will we eat and drink during that time?"

As humans, they needed to eat, and they had only brought a few days' worth of food and water.

The members of this expedition were all vigorous men—gluttons, not cultivators capable of fasting.

Before anyone else could speak, He Lingchuan mocked him, "Use your brain. If the Dafang Pot is taken by the State Preceptor, how could the Sandstorm Season be continuously produced? Our return trip might even be more peaceful than our journey here."

He Chunhua frowned slightly.

Though this fellow was reckless, he wasn't wrong. Sun Fuping breathed a slight sigh of relief and stroked his long beard. "Exactly!"

It took much effort to persuade this father and son to follow his arrangements; however, killing them indiscriminately would make it difficult to lead the expedition.

Human hearts are prone to change.

When traveling abroad, even a local snake in such a remote area could be quite troublesome, regardless of how low their official standing might be.

To his surprise, He Lingchuan turned back and asked him, "State Preceptor, you haven't made it clear yet. If we summon the Sandstorm Season but fail to obtain the Dafang Pot, how do we get back?"

That was the key point!

Sun Fuping smiled, calm and composed. "Before departure, I received special authorization from my King to invoke the Primordial Essence of the Divine Altar!"

Everyone was overjoyed, setting aside their worries.

Primordial Essence was the collective manifestation of a nation's destiny, the will of its people, and the morale of its army.

It provided massive empowerment to supernatural abilities, could intimidate all manner of ghosts and monsters, and could even break through enemy divine arts and formations. It was one of the nation's most precious strategic resources, possessing various miraculous uses.

As a national strategic reserve, Primordial Essence was usually sealed within the Divine Altar, and even high-ranking officials could not deploy it at will. Fortunately, the State Preceptor's job was precisely this, and Sun Fuping had specifically received the King's special authorization.

With this promise, the possibility of the group leaving the desert increased more than tenfold. Although the destiny of the Kingdom of Yuan was not at its peak, protecting two hundred people to leave the desert was not a difficult task.

By now, He Lingchuan had eaten and drunk his fill. He stood up and stretched. "In that case, shall we start working at dawn?"

Nian Songyu gave a mirthless smile. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm tired, going to sleep," He Lingchuan yawned. "Aren't we going to be busy tomorrow? There are no beauties to accompany me and no songs to listen to here; what else can I do if I don't sleep?" This kid just loved to pick fights with him.

"Who told you that you could rest?" Nian Songyu did not even bother to hide his contempt. "You're doing the work tonight. Do it now!"

"Do what?" He Lingchuan detested him most. "You?"

As Nian Songyu stepped forward with a dark face, He Lingchuan took two steps back, standing beside Zeng Feixiong and shouting, "Vice-Captain Zeng, protect me!"

Sun Fuping cleared his throat. "Business is more important. Bring the puppets up."

Only then did He Lingchuan remember that the State Preceptor had tied up two puppets parasitized by Three-Corpse Insects on the Walnut Boat and had brought them all the way into the city; they were currently stationed outside.

(End of Chapter)