Chapter 37: Divergence

Except for him and Situ Han, everyone else had prepared quite a lavish spread of food. The salted dried meat Nian Songyu had brought looked unremarkable, dark and reddish, but once held over the fire, it released an intoxicating aroma, clearly seasoned with many spices. Cutting two slices to pair with fine white flour buns made the expedition feel somewhat like a leisurely outing.

He Chunhua prepared a bowl of oily noodle tea. Under the pressure of boiling water, the fragrance of sesame and peanuts drifted even further than the scent of the meat. He even added some cashew nuts and walnuts, instantly elevating the quality of the meal.

He Lingchuan had always felt that the most satisfying way to drink such a thing was to gulp it down with loud slurping sounds, but his father had elegant eating habits, remaining quiet and noiseless.

Upon hearing the State Preceptor's words, He Chunhua pondered for a moment, and his expression changed. "Went at the wrong time? Wait, could he be referring to the Sandstorm Season?"

"Every treasure-hunting team avoids the Sandstorm Season, only to come up empty-handed. Zhu Gen has exhausted every known method and divine ability, yet he cannot detect the existence of the Great Fanghu. Therefore, he is convinced that the treasure has likely been properly hidden away by Zhong Shengguang, or perhaps even by the deity he worships; to find it, one must meet certain prerequisites," Sun Fuping said slowly. "Otherwise, even if later arrivals were to scour every inch of the Panlong Ruins, it would be impossible to find."

He Lingchuan’s mouth was glistening with oil as he ate heartily, but he didn't let it stop him from speaking: "Zhong Shengguang resents the Allied Forces, so of course he wouldn't want them to obtain the Great Fanghu. Is there a possibility that the Great Fanghu was reclaimed by the gods and is no longer in the mortal realm? And all the current anomalies in the Panlong Desert are caused by vengeful spirits—er, no, by heroic spirits. After all, the Three Corpses Insects are born within the human body; they aren't a specialty of the Great Fanghu, are they?"

He followed his own principle that no matter how hard life gets, one must never suffer in the mouth. He first tore into a piece of saucy goose leg before crunching on two pieces of fragrant noodle pancakes.

The local noodles in Blackwater City were springy and chewy once boiled, and when dried with hot wind, they were somewhat similar to the instant noodles that were his good companions in another world. The locals would boil the noodles, re-coat them with flour, pan-fry them into pancakes, and sprinkle on some chili spices—a high-quality dry ration suitable for both home and travel.

At the time, He Lingchuan had requested extra meat and eggs.

He practiced the martial path, so his appetite was much larger than most; he could not go a single meal without staples and meat.

*A total glutton with crude manners.* Nian Songyu gave him a disdainful glance. "The Three Corpses Insects that even a practitioner can be invaded by must be a specialty of the Great Fanghu."

From the moment a human is born, the Three Corpses Insects coexist within the body. The larger one grows, the more they cause trouble—disturbing thoughts, fueling greed, and breeding evil intentions. Thus, they are actually referred to as the "Three Corpses Deities," far from being mere lowly insects. For a person to cultivate and attain the Dao, they must pass the inevitable trial of wielding the Wisdom Sword to sever the Three Corpses, thereby achieving a pure and tranquil mind.

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

The Three Corpses Insects lurking in the Panlong Desert could even ensnare practitioners with tranquil minds; they could remain active outdoors for long periods and feared nothing except sunlight.

This enhanced version of the Three Corpses Insects definitely must have come from the Great Fanghu.

He Lingchuan let out a chuckle. "According to the State Preceptor's logic, the Great Fanghu only appears during the Sandstorm Season?"

"It is highly likely."

"Then we won't be staying to accompany you. You guys stay and play to your heart's content." He Lingchuan stood up abruptly and walked out without looking back. "Dad, let's go home!"

Sandstorm Season? What a joke. There are a thousand ways to commit suicide; he didn't need to make a special trip here for that!

A figure flashed before him. Nian Songyu stood there with his sword, blocking the exit. "Sit back down, or I will send you on your way right now, without waiting for the Sandstorm Season!"

"Huh?" Instead of being angry, He Lingchuan laughed. "So soon? Have you shown your true colors already?" He turned to his father. "Dad, these two just want to use us as cannon fodder. Are you leaving or not?"

He Chunhua set down his half-finished tea and stood up. "The State Preceptor has planned everything thoroughly and holds victory in his grasp. Even without the assistance of Blackwater City, it seems he can return with the treasure."

A sinister smile appeared on Nian Songyu's face. "Do you think this is still Blackwater City? Killing you would be as easy as killing a chicken! Without you two, I will lead this team of over two hundred men, and who would dare object!"

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

Zeng Feixiong had already stood up, and at that moment, with a *clang*, his half-blade left its sheath. "Captain Nian, watch your words! We only follow Governor He!"

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

In just a few words, the atmosphere became tense and hostile.

He Lingchuan's eyes darted around. What would happen if he took the opportunity to tear off the mask? Would the two of them dare to strike a lethal blow against his father and him?

Setting aside the fact that Nian Songyu was a fierce man, could his own two hundred men handle State Preceptor Sun?

Was this a good opportunity to take them both out?

These thoughts flashed through his mind, and the answer emerged almost instantly

*Dare, cannot, no.*

It seemed his father and he could not retreat unscathed; they had to find another way.

"Young man, you certainly have a fiery temper." Sun Fuping tossed down his pancake and gulped down a few mouthfuls of water. "Governor He, you have always had a reputation for being steady. Why are you joining this boy in his agitation? If this were a certain death trap, would I travel thousands of miles just to die?"

Before Governor He could speak, He Lingchuan answered for him: "You wouldn't. You would only make us die for you."

These two—one old and one young—had been ill-intentioned from the very beginning.

Nian Songyu glared at him. "Still trying to drive up the price? As if once wasn't enough?"

The more Nian Songyu looked at He Lingchuan, the more he felt disgust; He Lingchuan felt the same way about him.

Neither of them hid it anymore.

"Everything else is negotiable, but Lord State Preceptor, life is extinguished wherever the sandstorm passes. Even if it's not a joke, one shouldn't even have the thought of testing it!" He Chunhua coughed. "Furthermore, the food and water we are carrying can only last another three to five days. It is not enough to wait until the Sandstorm Season arrives."

He was attempting to ease the tension, and Sun Fuping cooperated. "If we can trigger the Sandstorm Season, I am confident I can lead everyone to safety. If we cannot, we will return to Blackwater City before the true Sandstorm Season arrives. How about that?"

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

And then go to an early death?

He had remained huddled in the corner, quietly finishing a piece of naan before taking out several roasted black-skinned scorpions. He knew he had no right to speak; everyone here was his superior.

But as he listened, why did it feel like he was being led to a dead end?

"Wait—please wait a moment!" His thoughts shifted, and his expression changed. "There are still people on the Red Cliff Road. If the Sandstorm Season appears early, they will surely die!"

"With only a few days left until the Sandstorm Season, any sane person knows not to scramble for the last copper coin." Nian Songyu said dismissively. "Besides, in previous years, the Sandstorm Season was never specific to a certain month, day, or hour. Governor He, there are casualties on this road every single year, are there not?"

(End of Chapter)