Where Immortals Once Walked-Chapter 302: Negotiations

Once Sun Fuling had gone, the carriage started rolling again.

Skinny immediately latched onto He Lingchuan’s good arm, eyes shining. “Home? Home! You little brat, you’re already getting fame and glory, and you still get to enjoy the favor of a beauty!”

The naked envy of a lifelong bachelor was written all over his face.

* * *

Two claps of thunder boomed across the sky.

He Lingchuan sat up and stretched lazily.

One of the best things about drinking in a dream was that even if he drank heavily, he would not have a hangover once he woke up.

Hu Min had arranged a celebration banquet for him at Yixiang Tower. It had started as just the four of them, but somehow, the more they drank, the more people appeared. By the end, even Willow and Doorboard had shown up.

Watching those two making eyes at each other across the table, He Lingchuan had decided they were definitely up to something.

Of course, that was all before he got completely, thoroughly drunk.

How many jars of wine had he put away? He had no idea. All he knew was that one blink later, he had snapped back into reality.

Come to think of it, Sun Fuling still had not fulfilled her promise.

They just had not gotten the chance.

He scrubbed his face hard, got up, and lifted the tent flap. Outside, the rain still drummed down in a steady, relentless sheet.

The heavens have been pouring water over the earth for days on end; does it never get tired?

He had asked some of the local soldiers about it. They told him that the northern region of Xia Province was entering its flood season. It would rain for thirty to forty days straight, with only short breaks in between.

Compared to that, Heishui City’s rainy season had never dragged on this long.

Weather like this was a nightmare for grain storage. Still, that was not the most pressing problem. He had only just finished getting dressed when a messenger arrived from He Chunhua, summoning him.

When he reached the command tent, a meeting was already underway. He waited in the side tent, listening to the discussion inside.

They were mainly talking about relocating the camp.

At this point, it was basically confirmed that the Han River’s main flood season had arrived early. After several days of heavy rain, the riverbanks were liable to soften and collapse at any moment, so the Yuan troops were best off pulling back another three hundred-odd meters from the shoreline.

The ground south of the Han River, which was where they were currently camped, was mostly soft soil, while the northern bank was rocky. In years of flooding, the south always went under first, then the north.

No wonder Zhao Pan was on edge. The main camp had to move, and fast. But they also could not retreat too far and hand the enemy cheap ground on a silver plate.

Striking the balance between safety and control would fall squarely on his shoulders.

When the meeting finally adjourned, He Chunhua stepped out and saw his son.

“Father, is something up?” For the past two days, He Lingchuan had been completely focused on his cultivation, to the point that he had almost forgotten they were at the front lines of a war.

He Chunhua spread a crumpled letter on the table. “You’re coming with me.”

The letter was damp and wrinkled, and the ink was blurred and runny, but the words were still legible: Second quarter-hour of the hour of the monkey (3:30 P.M.). Soaring Dragon Peak, Baiming Gorge. If you don’t come, you will lose the front line.

That must be...

He looked up, and his father supplied the name. “Hong Chenglue insists on meeting us.”

As expected.

“To be precise, he wants to see his wife. He wants proof that she’s safe and sound.” He Chunhua added solemnly, “The day before yesterday, I had men loose a dozen arrow-messages into the woods, demanding that he withdraw from Xia Province. It appears that Hong Chenglue got them. What you’re seeing there is his reply.”

He had counted on the enemy’s scouts shadowing the grain convoy even after it reached the front. If Hong Chenglue’s riders were still in the rear, they would intercept the arrow-messages sooner or later.

Sure enough, the arrows he had shot out into the woods had found their way into Hong Chenglue’s hands.

“If you don’t go, the front will be lost?” He Lingchuan arched a brow. “Someone sure thinks highly of himself. The tens of thousands of Xun Province troops across the river can’t break us, but he says he can turn the tide all by himself?”

He Chunhua did not respond. His gaze flickered slightly.

“But you still plan to go and hear him out?”

“Better to err on the side of caution.” He Chunhua was, at heart, a careful man. “Besides, he has barely a hundred riders. Why should I fear him?”

“Get ready. We leave in two hours.”

He Lingchuan hesitated for a beat, but in the end, he only bowed his head and left to prepare.

* * *

An hour later, He Chunhua led more than six hundred riders through the rain toward Baiming Gorge.

Of those, four hundred were from the grain convoy, while Zhao Pan had assigned another two hundred elite troops. When He Lingchuan looked them over, he saw they all carried large bows strapped across their backs.

“In terrain like Baiming Gorge, bowmen are most useful.” That was what Zhao Pan had said.

A carriage traveled with them as well. Hong Chenglue’s wife, A’Jin, lay inside.

It was no longer the shabby, civilian carriage they had used before. Before departure, the attendants had bathed her, changed her clothes, and applied a light touch of powder so that she looked a little less wan.

A’Jin was very quiet, letting them fuss over her without protest.

Another two hours brought the group to Baiming Gorge.

Once they arrived, He Lingchuan understood Zhao Pan’s intentions. The gorge was cupped in a ring of mountains, the slopes bare with exposed rock. Jagged boulders jutted everywhere, and countless holes pocked the cliffs.

Terrain like this was perfect for concealment. It was no wonder Hong Chenglue had chosen this as the meeting point.

Led by a local guide, they found Xianglong Peak—a low peak at the very mouth of the gorge that was not hard to climb.

He Chunhua sent several scouts up first. They returned to report that everything was normal and that there was no sign of an ambush.

Even so, He Chunhua did not climb. Instead, he ordered the troops to halt on the flat ground at the gorge’s entrance.

He had a chair brought down from the carriage and sat on it with an easy, spread-out confidence.

The message could not have been clearer: I’ve come to Baiming Gorge as agreed, but I will not dance to your tune. If you want to see your wife, come out and meet me.

Baiming Gorge’s terrain was far too convoluted. There was no way He Chunhua would let himself be led blindly into its depths. Who knew what traps Xianglong Peak might hold?

The elite troops he had brought scattered to the nearby high ground, taking up positions. The archers lay in ambush.

It seemed that Heaven was showing them some favor, as just as He Chunhua reached the gorge, the rain tapered off.

The rich scent of wet earth lingered in the air, and birds began to call in the woods.

The gorge lay quiet and secluded, with no trace of human movement.

Impatience never cooked hot tofu. He Chunhua simply closed his eyes and rested.

After about half an hour, the ground sixteen meters ahead of him suddenly began to tremble, gravel skittering and bouncing everywhere. His personal guards immediately surged forward, forming a tight ring around him.

The loose stones on the ground pulled together rapidly, as if dragged by some unseen force. In less than ten heartbeats, the soil subsided, forming a pit more than three meters across and a meter or so deep. From that pit, a stone man climbed out. The stone man was taller than a man by nearly two heads, and it trudged toward He Chunhua with slow, heavy steps.

The guards drew their weapons with a shout. “Halt!”

But He Chunhua lifted a hand. “Let it come.” Whatever that thing is, it carries no killing intent.

The stone man trudged forward a few more steps, then stopped. When it spoke, its voice was low and grinding, like words forced through a stone mill, “Lord He!”

He Chunhua’s eyebrows rose. “Hong Chenglue?”

“Where is my wife?”

“Business first.” He Chunhua’s gaze swept the distant slopes. The stone man was clearly a puppet projection, conjured through some puppet technique. Techniques like that had a limited range. That meant Hong Chenglue himself had to be hiding somewhere nearby. By now, Zeng Feixiong and his men were surely scouring the area, searching for the man’s true location.

“I don’t want your life, and I don’t need you to abase yourself. All I ask is that you withdraw from Xia Province and stay out for one full year,” He Chunhua said slowly. “Your wife will be treated as an honored guest under my roof. She’ll eat and drink better than she does wandering through wind and rain at your side. A year from now, I’ll return her to you.”

With Hong Chenglue roaming freely behind Zhao Pan’s lines, he was a constant threat to all of Xia Province. Burning the grain had been bad enough; what worried He Chunhua more was the thought of endless acts of sabotage yet to come.

And the man was slippery. Catching him would be no easy task. So He Chunhua had decided to take the next best path, which was to force him out.

“No.” Hong Chenglue’s answer, delivered through stone lips, was as crisp as a cut. “Return A’Jin to me now. Otherwise, I will help Xun Province break your lines. Within half a month, Zhao Pan will be defeated.”

He Chunhua could not help but laugh.

Nian Zanli, with his heavy forces, was camped just north of the Han River and could neither cross the natural barrier nor crack Zhao Pan’s defenses, yet Hong Chenglue dared make such a threat?

Hong Chenglue fell silent, letting him finish laughing.

The stone man’s face had no expression to begin with, making it impossible for He Chunhua to read his mood.

Negotiation was an art. Without seeing a counterpart’s expression, one loses a wealth of information. He Chunhua was deeply displeased by this.

“You claim you can topple General Zhao, yet you don’t even dare show your face to me? Come out and talk like a man. I don’t trust anyone who hides his head and shows only his tail.”

The stone man said nothing.

After a moment, a flicker of movement appeared in the distance.

Father and son narrowed their eyes, focusing. On a low peak a little over thirty-three ahead, two figures had appeared.

So that’s Hong Chenglue?

He Lingchuan had never seen Hong Chenglue before, but he recognized the other man beside him, Dong Rui.

That man’s life was tougher than a cockroach’s. Every time they tried to catch him, he slipped away. Every time they thought he was dead, he popped back up again.

He Chunhua’s eyes swept left and right, and at once, several men slipped away, moving stealthily toward the small peak.

The stone man spoke again. “Lord He, don’t bother with those little tricks. You won’t catch me.”

How would we know if we don’t try? He Chunhua smiled. “General Hong certainly has nerve. But you were born a man of Yuan. Why side with Nian Zanli, a defeated general, to strike at Yuan? Let’s do this instead. Withdraw from Xia Province, and I swear that within three months, I will release your wife.”

The situation at the front could change in a single day. Even if Hong Chenglue did pull his forces out of Xia Province now, there was no guarantee he would or could come back later.

So the real fulcrum of their contest lay in that one word: withdraw.

If Hong Chenglue withdrew, He Chunhua would gain a massive political victory, as the feat could be claimed to be “driving off an enemy general without moving a single soldier.” It would strengthen the front lines, secure Xia Province, and earn him credit with the royal court. His prestige would become untouchable.

But that same withdrawal would dump a heap of trouble on Hong Chenglue himself.

First, the men under him right now were all Xun Province roving cavalry, not Beijia troops. They had been working together for less than ten days. After the fiasco at the abandoned mine, the Xun soldiers were already resentful and muttering in private, grumbling that those not of their homeland must harbor other hearts. If Hong Chenglue tried to pull them back out of Xia Province over a personal matter, how could the Xun Province men possibly accept it?

Second, his raids behind enemy lines were a direct order from Beijia command. Withdrawing now of his own accord would be disobeying orders, and that was one of the gravest sins in the military. He had only just clawed his way back into service. Was he really going to cut off his own path again?

And yet, the leverage He Chunhua held was very real.

No one else could truly grasp the bond between a man and his wife.

He Chunhua was aiming straight at his future.

Hong Chenglue was used to making hard decisions between bad options. Even so, his hesitation now was visible to the naked eye.

Dong Rui nudged his arm with an elbow. “Hey...”

Hong Chenglue lifted a hand at once, cutting him off.

Seeing that, He Lingchuan understood at once. That bold claim of “helping the Xun forces defeat Zhao Pan within half a month” was very likely something Hong Chenglue could not back up with evidence. At the very least, the evidence was not something that he was willing to show them.