Chapter 40: Zhong Shengguang's Cemetery

Sun Fuping stood up. "Since my views align with Governor He's, we shall begin our search from this clue."

"How?" Nian Songyu frowned. "Do you intend to pray for rain at the Panlong Ruins?"

"The success rate of praying for rain here is less than five percent, yet it requires five or six times the effort of usual," Sun Fuping said with a bitter smile. "I just tried to summon the Mountain and Marsh Deity, but received no response at all."

To attempt to summon the Mountain and Marsh Deity here was truly imaginative. He Lingchuan couldn't help but laugh. "This place is too parched; even the Earth God would have died of thirst by now."

"If we can't pray for rain, then we'll use water to irrigate. Perhaps that is how the Baling Kingdom's expedition did it," Nian Songyu mused. "It's impossible to summon rain for the entire city, nor is it necessary. We must pinpoint the exact location."

The Baling Kingdom's expedition couldn't have summoned rain to fall over all of Panlong City; they would have had to use their limited water supply with precision. With a successful precedent before them, State Preceptor Sun and his group could estimate the general area through logical deduction.

"Based on my analysis, there are only a few places where irrigation could trigger a Sandstorm Season: the Mitian Temple, the Zhong Shengguang Ancestral Hall, the Red General Ancestral Hall, Zhong Shengguang's tomb, and the mass graves of Panlong City," Sun Fuping added. "Those two ancestral halls were built while the individuals were still alive; they are rare 'living ancestral halls'."

It was common knowledge that only the dead or deities could enjoy the incense and offerings in an ancestral hall. To build a living ancestral hall for a person was not to worship them, but to harm them, for most living people could not bear such honor—at best, it would shorten their lifespan, and at worst, cost them their lives.

Clearly, Zhong Shengguang and the Red General were exceptions—figures who had been deified during their lifetimes.

He Lingchuan asked curiously, "Why not include the Red General's tomb?"

He Chunhua answered him, "He wasn't buried; at most, it's just a cenotaph. It's not worth searching."

Nian Songyu questioned, "Even if we find these locations, how do we determine which one to water?"

"We cannot, but the Three-Corpse Worms know." Sun Fuping ordered men to bring up several sealed glass jars, inside which a mist seemed to swirl.

As everyone looked closely, they realized it wasn't mist at all—there were clearly four or five Three-Corpse Worms swimming inside the jars!

They were quite lively, each pressing its head against the rim of the jar, looking somewhat like eels kept in a tank.

"They only move in one direction, away from the Great Square Pot," Sun Fuping explained. "That is to say, the opposite direction of their movement is where the Great Square Pot is located. Take these jars and walk a circle around the target locations, and you will find it."

*This old man is incredibly calculating; he plans everything in advance. If he were ever to harbor ill intent, it would likely be meticulously executed...* He Lingchuan stole a glance at him, his vigilance growing.

The group then took the glass jars and split up.

...

The He father and son naturally walked together toward Zhong Shengguang's tomb.

On a desolate, wind-swept night, walking through the ruins of a city, the sense of loneliness and decay reached its peak upon seeing Zhong Shengguang's tomb.

Located at the northwest corner of the South Gate Plaza—the very first place they had passed—the tomb was surprisingly large and magnificent. Built entirely of green granite, it covered a full two acres. Judging by the surroundings, the person who buried him had specifically demolished many houses to make room for this grand mausoleum.

The epitaph, however, was simple: *Tomb of Western Commander Zhong Shengguang*, followed by his birth and death dates.

After more than a hundred years, aside from traces left by later excavations, the entire tomb remained intact; even the stone slabs forming the mound lacked a single chipped corner.

Reaching this place, the He father and son both let out long sighs.

The stories of Panlong City and the Great Wind Army had been sung year after year, echoing endlessly in the current Blackwater City, but how many people had actually come to pay respects to this legendary general who had sacrificed himself for his country?

He Lingchuan remarked with emotion, "The enemy actually built him such a massive tomb."

Zhong Shengguang had committed suicide when the city fell, fulfilling his vow: "As long as the city stands, the man stands; if the city falls, the man perishes." After that, Panlong City was massacred, so naturally, no compatriots were left to bury him. The ones who built this tomb could only have been his enemies.

"The Xianyou Kingdom had no choice. After Zhong Shengguang died, his head was decapitated and sent to the Xianyou capital as a trophy. The whole nation celebrated, and the palace kept it as a collection. However, after that, the Panlong Wasteland suffered a series of strange occurrences—no humans or livestock could survive, and no vegetation would grow. The Xianyou Kingdom wanted a wasteland rich in minerals, not a desert where no living thing could enter. Thus, they sent people back into Panlong City to give Zhong Shengguang a proper burial, hoping to appease the wrath of his vengeful spirit."

"And they failed." There was no need to elaborate on what became of the Xianyou Kingdom or the Panlong Desert afterward.

He Chunhua produced two bundles of incense from somewhere, lit them, and handed one to He Lingchuan. "It's not easy to make a trip like this."

They should pay respects to the heroic soul.

After they had finished their solemn bows, He Lingchuan pulled a pouch of mare's milk wine from his robe and filled three cups.

The He father and son raised a toast toward the tombstone and drank it all in one gulp.

He Lingchuan gently sprinkled the wine over the mound and whispered, "General Zhong, please protect our safe passage through the Panlong Desert, so that we may have the chance to bring you wine again in the future."

He Lingchuan took out the glass jar and walked a circle around Zhong Shengguang's tomb, but the Three-Corpse Worms inside did not change direction; they continued to swim toward the southern wall.

This meant this grand tomb was not their target.

When he returned from his walk, he saw He Chunhua looking thoughtful. "Dad, what are you thinking about?"

"I was thinking, if we truly find the Great Square Pot and send it to the inland battlefield, the Sandstorm Season in the Panlong Desert will become a thing of the past, won't it?"

"Definitely. Isn't that a good thing? The Panlong Wasteland looks barren, but it's actually rich in resources; otherwise, the coalition forces wouldn't have fought so hard for Panlong City back then. If it lets us pass, the Qiansong Prefecture won't be so poor anymore." Realizing his tone, He Lingchuan quickly paused. "What, am I wrong?"

"You're right, but I feel that it's best if the Panlong Desert remains exactly as it is."

He Lingchuan was puzzled. "Why?" Who would want to guard a fickle, barren desert?

"The Panlong Desert is an obstacle, a calamity, and an uncertainty, but it is also a safeguard. The Great Yuan is no longer as powerful as it once was. If we remove this layer of protection, the consequences are unpredictable."

"How can the Panlong Desert be a safeguard?" He Lingchuan inwardly admired the Governor's subtlety, but outwardly he smiled. "If we can find the Pot, our whole family will move to the capital. Who would care about the Panlong Desert then? Whether it storms or rains here will have nothing to do with us."

This line of reasoning perfectly matched the personality of He Lingchuan's original self. Governor He looked at him and smiled. "You are quite perceptive regarding the ways of an official."

Regardless of promotions, the troubles would belong to the next local official; he could just pat his backside and leave. As his eldest son said, why worry for others?

When the sky falls, someone else will always be there to hold it up.

In truth, He Lingchuan understood immediately. The Panlong Desert served as a buffer zone among the major powers. It was difficult for anyone to cross it to attack the Yuan Kingdom, not to mention that the nearly half-year-long Sandstorm Season was a nightmare for almost all expeditionary forces. During this period, unless they could live off the land through warfare—where looted supplies could sustain the army—their logistics would be completely severed.