Chapter 560: A Surprisingly Familiar Tour Group
Shao Jian gave a cold snort. “Since the founding of Beijia, it has plotted, launched, and even personally taken part in thousands of wars. That is how it buys its own survival and strength, by doing this sort of work for the gods!” Then he said, one word at a time, “Tell me, does that make the monster emperors, monster kings, and state preceptors traitors to the mortal realm or not?”
“...Yes,” He Lingchuan said carefully. “But over the past ten years or so, Beijia itself does not seem to have waged any wars?”
“It may not have moved directly, but what about the State of Ju? What about the State of Dai?” Shao Jian said icily. “The State of Ju got a new ruler and began reforming the government, and then rebellion suddenly broke out. Within half a year, more than twenty thousand people were dead. The ruler of Ju himself was hacked to death amid the chaos, and afterward, the various rebel factions turned on one another in a struggle for the throne. People were cut down like grass, and that still has not ended.”
“As for the State of Dai, it enjoyed peace for less than twenty years before going back to war with its old enemy. Their blood feud only deepened, and who knows when it will ever stop?” Shao Jian shook his head. “Behind the turmoil in both of those states was Beijia’s meddling. That much, I know. As for all the cases I don’t know about...” He let out a short, bitter laugh. “Those would be beyond counting.”
“The gods aren’t fools either. If they did nothing but harvest nightmare qi without restraint, that would be like draining a pond to catch fish.” Whenever Shao Jian spoke of the gods, his expression was never anything but grim. “The mortal realm also has to be given time to recover, which is good for the restoration of spirit qi. Otherwise, if all the people died off, what would the gods use to gather nightmare qi? Conveniently enough, human flourishing and the recovery of spirit qi happen more or less in tandem. So long as the gods use Beijia to control the intensity and frequency of war, they can ensure a steady supply of nightmare qi, consistent in both quantity and quality.”
“In that case...” He Lingchuan chose his words with care. “Wouldn’t that make the mortal realm nothing more than the heavenly gods’ pasture?” When the population grows too large, they cull it. When it grows too small, they let it recover. How is that any different from raising pigs or cattle?
“What else would you call it?” Shao Jian let out a long sigh. “The gods and Beijia are the root cause of the endless chaos in this world!”
Light flickered in He Lingchuan’s eyes. “If the gods survive by harvesting human nightmare qi, then why is Lady Mitian helping us?”
To betray one’s own origin and stand against one’s entire kind, could any normal god truly do such a thing?
“That?” Shao Jian wiped the lamb fat from his knife. “You’d have to ask Commander Zhong. I don’t know the contents of the agreement he made with Mitian.”
He Lingchuan had the feeling he was holding something back.
“In any case, you need to understand that Panlong City is no secluded paradise beyond the world. Sooner or later, the gods will turn their gaze here. And when that day comes...” At last, the hatred in Shao Jian’s eyes could no longer be concealed. “The evil, the madness, the savagery of the gods and Beijia will be beyond anything you can imagine. Since Brother Zhong has chosen the correct but difficult path, all of you can only keep pressing forward!”
So there’s no turning back? He Lingchuan lifted his gaze to the starry sky and silently drew in a breath of cold air.
* * *
At first light, He Lingchuan went out wandering.
He had just arrived and was still a complete nobody. In a city as vast as Lingxu, hardly anyone recognized him. This suited him perfectly, as it gave him a chance to take a proper look around.
Yesterday, when he entered the city, dusk had already been falling, so everything he saw had only been a passing glance from horseback. This morning, he could finally explore at leisure.
Panlong City had only a few truly central districts around Wanglin Avenue. Lingxu City, by contrast, had no such single “core,” because its prosperous districts were simply too immense. Whole swaths of market streets had been incorporated into them, and both the main city and the auxiliary city had their own centers. In He Lingchuan’s mind, those were simply commercial hubs.
This was the place where wealth and goods from across the world gathered and circulated. As he walked, he even recognized local specialties from the States of Yuan and Fu in roadside shops.
Northern goods, southern goods, rare treasures from every corner of the world, if one had the money, one could buy them all here.
And behind the tall buildings and grand residences lay row after row of eateries, from massive taverns to tiny restaurants, all doing brisk business and seeing an endless stream of patrons.
He Lingchuan spotted a modest little restaurant with a signboard that grandly proclaimed “Sea Delicacies, Boldly Prepared.” So he went in.
Outside stood a potted old pine as decoration, with two yellow-cheeked parrots in the branches nuzzling and pecking at each other. Inside, the place was spotless and tastefully arranged. There were only four redwood tables and chairs, all neatly placed, and three of them were already occupied.
He Lingchuan looked around but failed to spot any seafood. When he asked, he was told the seawater tanks were all in the back; they did not keep them out front, lest customers find them inelegant.
In the past, whenever He Lingchuan had gone into little places this small, no one had cared in the least about “elegance.” Truly, this was Lingxu City. Even a hole-in-the-wall establishment carried itself with lofty pretensions.
Before long, the seafood congee he ordered arrived, still bubbling when it was set down.
He stirred it with a spoon and found it loaded with ingredients. The squid and dried scallops were likely rehydrated dried goods, but the oysters, shrimp, clams, and baby octopus had all clearly been prepared fresh and alive. The sweetness and freshness on the tongue did not lie.
The rice porridge itself had also been cooked to perfection. It was savory, fragrant, and simmered until the grains had fully bloomed.
After only two mouthfuls, He Lingchuan felt the coolness of autumn driven right out of his body. Warmth spread through his stomach, leaving him thoroughly comforted.
Next came noodles tossed in yellow butter.
This so-called “yellow butter” referred to crab roe and crab meat. There was no need to elaborate on how imperious that flavor was. This particular shop had also fried it together with a little pork fatback, making it even richer and more fragrant.
He Lingchuan knew that stricter, grander taverns served an even more refined version made from pure yellow butter—that is, with not a shred of crab meat at all, only crab roe and crab paste slowly rendered down. That was the truly luxurious preparation.
He was not so particular. As far as he was concerned, if it tasted good, that was enough.
After that came two large plates of sea-intestine-and-fish dumplings.
Fresh dace meat had been chopped and beaten into a paste, then mixed with finely minced sea intestine for the filling. Even the dumpling wrappers were black, dyed with the ink of octopus or squid.
To be fair, they tasted genuinely excellent. The only problem was that the portions were far too small. He Lingchuan patted his stomach. At most, he was only twenty percent full.
When he paid the bill, it came to exactly one tael of silver.
That meant one thousand copper coins.
He drew a quiet breath through his teeth. With his appetite, if he wanted to eat his fill here, would a single meal not cost five taels of silver? These prices were anything but cheap.
Then again, Lingxu City was nowhere near the sea. Bringing in fresh seafood must have cost a fortune in transport alone. And this was the main urban district, where land was worth its weight in gold...
A glance around showed that the neighboring tables were occupied by refined young men and women, all eating slowly and delicately, making scarcely a sound even when setting down bowl or spoon.
So that’s how it is. This isn’t the kind of place where one would come to fill their stomach.
He Lingchuan bade the smiling proprietor farewell, turned out the door, and wound through a few more streets until he found a steamed bun shop in a more out-of-the-way row. There, he promptly ordered ten large fresh meat buns, each one the size of his fist, plus two huge bowls of millet and mixed-grain porridge.
After demolishing that meal in short order, he was finally full.
Stepping out of the bun shop, He Lingchuan looked up.
Lingxu City truly was a model of harmonious coexistence between humans and monsters. Strange-looking monsters of every sort filled the streets. The one who had just been taking payment in the bun shop was a baboon monster, and it had counted out his copper change with fingers wet from its own saliva.
Flying birds could often be seen overhead or perched in the branches.
In an environment like this, He Lingchuan had no idea whether he was being watched or not. He could only hope that, as a newcomer, he still had not attracted anyone’s attention.
He wandered through two clothing shops and several specialty stores, buying a few sets of clothes and some gifts, then went to a teahouse and ordered two pots of morning tea while listening to a storytelling performance.
Lately, some vague and inexplicable incidents have taken place in a small state in northwestern Beijia. The storyteller took those events, added embellishment, stirred in a few personal guesses, and spun them into several fine tales. Because the material was so fresh, everyone listened with rapt attention, interrupting now and then to ask questions.
And just like that, a leisurely morning passed.
As for the safety of the Crown Prince of Chiyan, He Lingchuan was not worried in the slightest. The man’s status and position were what they were, not to mention that he was the divinely favored next Monster King of Chiyan. Lingxu City would surely treat him with the utmost courtesy.
Sure enough, the eyeball spider soon sent word that Fushan Yue had already returned to the post station, freshened himself up, and then gone back out again.
At the foot of the imperial throne, social calls were probably among the most important activities in upper-class life. If one visited only two households a day, it would still take two or three months to get through them all.
The Crown Prince of Chiyan naturally had many people he needed to call upon.
So He Lingchuan was in no hurry. He continued sightseeing through the city, and even spent a bit of money to join a guided tour.
Lingxu City was so developed that anything capable of turning a profit had someone doing it. There were many notable sights nearby, so there really were people who specialized in tourism, leading sightseeing groups about. The hired deer-cart they rode in was impressively spacious.
The organizer, however, was not a person at all, but an obese white-browed gibbon.
This ape monster was cleverer than many humans. As it introduced the sights along the way, it spoke so floridly that even a stinking drainage ditch became, in its telling, the place where merfolk once rinsed their silk. However, the most extraordinary part was that the damned ape also took them shopping!
Local souvenir shops, mediocre restaurants that were neither especially expensive nor especially tasty, and if you refused to buy anything, the guide turned sour-faced and began sniping at you with sarcasm and disdain.
The whole experience stirred an odd homesickness in He Lingchuan. It was all so familiar that he found the ape monster strangely endearing.
At one point, a member of the group decided he had had enough and demanded a refund so he could leave. The gibbon bared its teeth, and behind it stepped out two large mandrills, their muscles bulging under their fur, their painted faces fixed on the man in silence.
“...”
The tourist immediately declared that the itinerary was simply too enjoyable and that anyone who failed to stay with the group to the very end would not be human.
Still, after several minor mishaps along the way, He Lingchuan discovered that the gibbon knew the Main City District and North Kan District extremely well, and also had all kinds of petty channels and side connections. It even claimed that so long as the customers were willing to pay, it could take them up to the floating island for a tour, where they could see for themselves the earthly paradise in which the wealthy lived.
Of course, once up there, no one would be allowed to wander about freely. They would have to obey its every instruction and follow its cues.
By that point, however, He Lingchuan saw that the han carriage had reached the place he wanted. Without waiting to hear any more of the ape’s nonsense, he left the group on his own in West Dui District.
Naturally, any sights not yet visited were non-refundable.
He Lingchuan made his way along for another stretch before quickly reaching an ordinary residential quarter and turning into Ground Willow Alley.
There was a row of street-facing shops in front and a small canal running behind them. It had nothing to do with peace amid bustle, but it did at least offer convenience for daily life.
Even so, this was still Lingxu City. Every household here was small. At most, their homes were only two or three times the size of He Lingchuan’s residence in Panlong City, and they stood packed tightly together, one against the next.
He entered the alley and counted the doors as he went, until he reached the sixth one.
He raised a hand to knock, only to hear laughter inside, and more than one voice at that.
Hm?
That did not sound like the target he had come to find.
He Lingchuan circulated his true energy and listened more closely. He heard people chatting idly and the clinking of utensils.
They’re drinking?
He Lingchuan turned and glanced back a couple of times, noticing an old man seated on a threshold in the alley, basking in the sun with half-lidded eyes fixed on him. In another courtyard, a young boy was playing with a toy horse woven from grass, shouting and yelping all the while.
In lanes like this, the neighbors had all known one another for decades. A stranger stood out immediately.
He Lingchuan thought for a moment, then turned and walked back the way he had come.
* * *
Not long afterward, there was a knock at the sixth door.
One of the drinkers inside poked his head out and looked left and right.
No one.
“Over here!”
He lowered his gaze and found a little boy standing nearby with a note held up in his hand. “A letter for Tong Wei!”
Tong Wei? Who’s Tong Wei?
