Where Immortals Once Walked-Chapter 339: How Can We Just Sit and Wait to Die?

Wen Daolun’s divination and deduction skills were no joke. This meant that he had been living with dread for an entire year.

What surprised He Lingchuan was not just that. Actually, what surprised him even more was the specific undertone that the Red General’s words clearly carried. She was implying that this was Wen Daolun’s own choice, because his attitude had been so calm and so accepting.

Could it be that the chance to use the Generous Pot to bring his son back had been something Wen Daolun himself refused?

How is that possible?

Just then, another Gale Army soldier hurried over and reported in a low voice, “General, the old woman surnamed Ji has wasted away and died.”

“The ferry-crossing spawn and its human mother sustain each other. If one is harmed, both suffer,” the Red General said, not at all surprised. “Before she died, did she say anything else?”

“She said the attack on Master Wen was carried out under a heavenly god’s decree, that she was simply acting according to fate. She had no regret at all. She kept cursing, right up until she laughed herself to death.”

Before the end, the old crone had not only cursed Commander Zhong and the Red General. She had cursed all of Panlong City, calling them blind and witless, even when she was standing right at death’s door without even realizing it.

The filth she spewed was unspeakably vile, aimed low and cruel. The soldier would not dare repeat it word for word.

Both Sister Ji and Yun Gu had been human mothers who carried ghostspawn, yet their temperaments could not have been more different.

The Red General did not care about the old woman’s ranting in the slightest. “So the Ferry-Crossing Mother’s real target was Wen Daolun all along. The other attacks were just cover. It seems Yun Gu truly was the biggest variable. She forced their plan to downgrade.”

“Yun Gu?” That seemingly insignificant host-mother was being mentioned again. He Lingchuan searched his memory hard. “When you say variable... do you mean she went into labor early?”

At the end, Yun Gu had wept and confessed that the children’s premature birth had enraged the god, and she had been scolded for it.

If the ghostspawn had been born on schedule, what would have happened?

“This entire plan was built around the ravenous devourer. The odds of such a creature being born are extremely small, so small that even the heavenly gods can’t control it. Once a ravenous devourer arrives in the world, you must seize the opportunity.” She paused, then continued with chilling clarity. “If Yun Gu had given birth a few days later, if the Xianyou army had invaded White Crane Ridge, then I would have led troops to meet them. At that time, the city’s defenses would have been hollowed out, and the ravenous devourer Yun Gu birthed could have nested inside the city, devoured thousands upon thousands of living people in a short time, and grown into a malignant tumor that Panlong City couldn’t rip out for a long while.”

He Lingchuan immediately thought of the blood-and-flesh fortress in Demon Nest Swamp. The Jiana Tribe had not exterminated their ravenous devourer in time, and it had grown rapidly, feasting its way to the annihilation of an entire tribe.

That was how terrifying a ravenous devourer was when it fed without restraint. And Panlong City’s population dwarfed a tribal settlement. If it established a nest here, the strength it gained by eating people would skyrocket beyond imagining.

The Red General’s voice remained level as she continued, “As for that old woman surnamed Ji, she was likely stored as reserve power. Even though she didn’t produce a ravenous devourer, when Panlong City was beset both inside and out, her children could still be used to ambush key officials and weaken Panlong City’s leadership.”

The heavenly god’s plan had laid out the Red General, Panlong City, Zhong Shengguang, and the other leaders as though on a chessboard—neatly arranged, meant to be dealt with in one sweep.

And in the early stage, it was all frighteningly covert, leaving no time to defend.

Once he truly understood that, He Lingchuan drew in a quiet breath of cold air. Panlong City surviving this calamity really did feel like luck, pure luck.

“If they’d succeeded, then even if Panlong City wasn’t taken, it would have been crippled with its morale greatly shaken.”

Panlong City had always been synonymous with unbreakable unity, a fortress everyone agreed was the safest place on the wasteland. That was not just the locals’ belief; it was even the enemy’s psychological barrier.

If that shared certainty cracked, if people suddenly realized that Panlong City could be weak within and could be unstable, then the faith in the city could collapse overnight.

The Red General seemed to let out a faint chuckle. “But planning too perfectly is never wise. Change always comes faster than plans. The Xianyou forces invading White Crane Ridge replaced their commander at the last minute, and their fighting strength collapsed.”

He Lingchuan seized on the key phrase. “Then, what do you mean when you said downgrade?”

“The most important factor is timing,” answered the Red General crisply. “Yun Gu’s premature labor meant the ravenous devourer did not get born inside the city during the Xianyou assault. It couldn’t build a powerful blood-and-flesh fortress and become the seed of internal chaos. More than that, Yun Gu’s ghostspawn were all cleaned up. Their original objective became impossible. At that point, they could only put the old woman Ji on the board. Their target switched down to Wen Daolun.”

Wen Daolun could only be considered a second-best target in the city.

“Why target Master Wen?” He Lingchuan asked. “Just because he’s one of Lord Zhong’s most trusted strategists? It seems like the price they paid wasn’t small.”

Because Zhong Shengguang was too hard to kill, they dropped down to Wen Daolun?

Wen Daolun was important, yes—but to take his life, they were willing to expend an entire brood of ghostspawn? Even as spawn, they were still the offspring of the Ferry-Crossing Mother, who was also a god.

A goose that lays golden eggs, a god that births divine children, could they really be thrown away as cannon fodder?

“Gods understand very well that sometimes you must pay a price even to probe, let alone to win,” said the Red General. Then, she pointed east and said, “We follow this principle ourselves. To keep this fertile land safe, along with the millions of lives that exist with it, how could there be no price?”

The Red General then added, “Wen Daolun and Commander Zhong share a bond forged in life and death.”

Her words were heavy with meaning, but she did not expand further.

Even if He Lingchuan had not fully thought it through, he knew it was not something to press. He switched topics instead.

“After Wei City was reclaimed, I heard you went to the Guizhen Stone Forest and defeated Zhu Erniang?”

Otherwise, the burrow spiders would not have turned around so quickly and resumed being Panlong City’s “friendly neighbors.”

Strength decided relationships. Everyone was practical.

The Red General answered simply, “Yes.”

“Then where is Zhu Erniang’s weakness?”

The Red General turned and stared at him through the mask’s pitch-black eyeholes. “Why do you ask that?”

“Curiosity,” He Lingchuan said, the hollow darkness of those eye sockets making his skin crawl. “Last time I went deep into her den, she drove me into a dead end. I can’t help but feel resentful.”

The Red General did not pursue it. “Zhu Erniang is an ancient greater monster. Even though her cultivation has been cut down layer by layer, her methods remain, and she has countless offspring. She isn’t something you can deal with at your current level. And for me, what counts as a weakness may be for you equivalent to...”

To a rock? If He Lingchuan dared challenge Zhu Erniang alone, he would be an egg being thrown against a rock.

He rubbed his nose, unable to argue.

The Red General continued, “You’d best go with a group and wait for the right moment.”

“And if I’m alone and I still have to fight?”

Dong Rui was unreliable to the point of absurdity. He would be lucky if that man did not stab him in the back.

“If you insist on walking to your death alone...”

He Lingchuan could not help but sigh.

“Then so be it.” The Red General’s tone shifted. “Those strong like us, how can we just sit and wait to die? Win or lose, we still have to fight for our lives.”

She seemed to laugh softly. “Burrow spiders have a particular trait. If you can seize the timing, you might still have a sliver of a chance.”

Then, in a lower voice, she gave him a few instructions.

He Lingchuan listened with full attention, memorizing every word. He cupped his fists gratefully and said, “Thank you for the general’s guidance!”

It might be exactly what he needed right now.

“Anything else?” The Red General had already reached the gate. Her warhorse stood waiting there.

“My accumulated merits can be exchanged for a divine technique or combat technique[1] again.” He Lingchuan seized the opening. “Do you have any suggestions on what I should choose?”

“I’ve watched you fight.” The Red General considered briefly. “You have plenty of agility, but your burst damage is lacking. Go choose the Mirror Image Art.”

She’s actually of the same mind?

He Lingchuan froze for a heartbeat. The Red General had already mounted and ridden off, her entourage sweeping after her in a cloud of dust.

A little while later, the Wen Residence suddenly erupted in wailing cries.

Passersby stopped, craning to look toward the Wen Residence.

He Lingchuan sighed silently. Wen Xing’s wounds had been too severe. He had not made it.

Fourteen or fifteen—an age of bright, vigorous beginnings—only to wither halfway. And Wen Xing’s story was only a miniature of the Panlong Wasteland’s fate.

Wen Daolun watching his son die, He Lingchuan did not dare imagine what that did to a man’s heart. He turned at once and headed for the Bureau of Bright Prospects.

Everyone had their own calamity to endure. Everyone had their own long path to march.

* * *

Truthfully, He Lingchuan had wanted Mirror Image Art last time as well. But back then, the Golden-Armored Copper Man Art had looked more appealing. After several battles, he had come to understand more deeply that when killing an enemy, fast, precise, and ruthless meant fewer variables.

Still, before going to the Bureau of Bright Prospects, he took a small detour to Spirit-Nurturing Isle to pick up goods from the plump shopkeeper, Bai Guo.

Earlier, He Lingchuan had ordered seven ghost-shadow cicada shells here and paid a thirty percent deposit. The shopkeeper had promised they would arrive today.

At this hour, Spirit-Nurturing Isle had only a few customers browsing without buying. When He Lingchuan entered, the clerks looked so idle they could have started swatting flies for entertainment, while Bai Guo was arguing with a man at the counter.

The man was in his fifties, his face lined with deep wrinkles. His coarse cloth clothes were patched in several places. He did not look like the typical clientele of a magical artifact shop at all—more like an old farmer dragged straight from the fields.

As He Lingchuan drew closer, he realized this “customer” was not really a customer at all, but a seller surnamed Wang.

Old Man Wang’s grandchild was sick and needed money. He wanted to sell a thin old book, which seemed to be an ancestral treasure, in exchange for funds for medicine.

Calling it a book was generous; in fact, it would probably be more apt to refer to it simply as a scroll. It was a thin sheet of beast-skin paper, yellowed and worn, the ink so faded it was close to vanishing.

Bai Guo wanted to unfold it and examine it carefully, but Old Man Wang refused, saying he was afraid Bai Guo would “accidentally” spot the key information and then deny him a fair price.

The two sides were locked in a stalemate when He Lingchuan arrived.

The moment Bai Guo saw him, the impatience on his face transformed into a warm, ingratiating smile. “Brother He! You’re here? Come, come, I’ll take you to your goods!”

Toward a wealthy, capable landlord-customer like He Lingchuan, Bai Guo was all enthusiasm.

He Lingchuan swept his gaze over the counter. Only a small corner of the beast-skin paper was visible, yet the characters on it were unmistakable.

Hm? It’s actually ancient immortal script. Interesting.

He tilted his chin toward the counter. “What’s going on here?”

“Someone selling something.” Bai Guo led He Lingchuan toward the back, and only once they reached the inner hall did he lower his voice. “He claims it’s an antique. However, it doesn’t feel like one when I touch it. Our appraiser happens to be on leave, visiting family. I can’t read the writing on that roll, so I can’t judge it.”

“So you’re not buying?”

“If there’s risk, I can’t buy it.” Bai Guo glanced at him and offered a well-meaning warning. “Does Brother He want it? There are plenty of scammers.”

“We’ll see,” He Lingchuan said, already half decided.

He finished the transaction for the ghost-shadow cicada shells and came back out. Old Man Wang was still there, looking wilted. He had already drunk another cup of water.

“Shopkeeper Bai, please think of a way. I really need money!” He rubbed at his eyes. “My grandson... my grandson is seriously ill!”

1. Honestly, this is probably just a martial technique. This author really likes using multiple sets of different words for the same term. ☜