Chapter 239: Songyang Mansion Branch

His weapon of choice had always been a giant axe as thick and heavy as a door board, so this massive wooden mace was nothing to him.

He hefted the wolf’s fang mace one-handed and slapped the head of it twice with his other palm. “Come.”

He Lingchuan tightened his grip on the changdao and drew a long breath.

Against an opponent built like a hill, was using skill to overcome strength and lightness against heaviness really the best approach?

He immediately used the Swallow’s Return movement technique. Like a swallow skimming a pond, he dipped low and slid right up to Meng Shan. As he got close, he thrust his changdao straight for the top of the man’s foot.

No one’s instep could be armored that thoroughly. If the blade pierced through, Meng Shan’s mobility would definitely be compromised.

But then the light from above suddenly disappeared, and utter darkness ensued.

* * *

“Holy—!”

He Lingchuan cried out and flipped upright into a sitting position.

The medicine ape, Ling Guang, was in the middle of eating a slice of melon; it startled so badly its claws jerked, and the honeydew thunked to the floor.

As it stooped to pick the melon back up, it shot He Lingchuan a wounded look. In this freezing weather, it was not easy to get fruit this sweet.

He Lingchuan was drenched in sweat. He reached back to rub the back of his head; he could swear the spot where Meng Shan had hit him still throbbed dully.

That really had been a mountain-crushing blow. There had been nowhere to dodge. Amid the audience’s collective gasp, he had been smashed clean off the arena. The pain had been like the back of his skull splitting open, though perhaps that had literally been the case.

Right before he was thrown out of the dreamscape, he had even heard a crisp little crack from inside his own skull.

The sound was not loud, but it was definitely hair-raising.

He knew that there was only one reason, other than being forcibly shaken awake, that would make him exit the dreamscape unnaturally. That reason was none other than death.

Tch. Did my head really get smashed open?

That bastard Meng Shan actually went for the kill!

Fucking hell, he’s a true and professional skull-splitter.

Seeing him clutching his head, gasping for breath, eyes still unfocused, Ling Guang asked, “Are you alright?”

It could not help but feel concerned for its employer. He Lingchuan’s face looked like he had just come back from the brink of death, and his body was even dripping cold sweat. This could only mean one thing: a nightmare.

“I just had a nightmare,” He Lingchuan muttered after fighting down a wave of nausea. “I got killed in it.”

No wonder Meng Shan could fight Colonel Xiao to a draw; at one point, he had even had the upper hand against Xiao Maoliang.

He Lingchuan had thrown everything he had at him and still been knocked flying. Honestly, however, his losing to Meng Shan was not exactly unfair.

Regardless, the smugness and swagger from defeating Hook earlier had been obliterated in an instant.

That plan he had made to use lightness against heaviness? It was utter crap. It did not work at all.

He was not the first to think of it, either. Who knew how many people had tried that logic before him? Without exception, they had all lost.

Meng Shan was vicious, truly so. But he was also one hell of a good opponent.

He Lingchuan brought his palms together with a sharp clap.

Alright. For now, I’ll set Meng Shan as my target.

So far, he had been killed four times in the dreamscape.

Heh, I really hope I don’t get addicted to dying.

“Oh, then it’s fine,” Ling Guang said, reassured. Nightmares were not an illness, so no treatment was required. It promptly returned to the main topic. “By the way, your foundation establishment is already complete. I’ve spent the last few days running to pharmacies to find the ingredients according to your recipe for the next stage of yin and yang pills you require. I’ve hit up about nine stores, and I can only say that the ingredients are very expensive and very scarce.”

The secret to He Lingchuan’s rapid rise in cultivation was taking yin-yang pills.

Put simply, he was using the power of money.

Now that the first stage of the Meridian Art was complete, the yin-yang pill formula had to be adjusted accordingly. However, stronger medicinal properties usually meant higher prices.

He had been mentally prepared for this. “How much more expensive?”

“Roughly four times the original price.” Ling Guang took out a tiny sprig of grass. “The main cost is all in ashglow herb. It’s the principal ingredient for the yin part of the pill, but the shops in Dunyu barely have any. At most, there’s half a month’s supply. After that, you’ll have to think of something else.”

Short supply naturally drove up prices.

The little herb was a pale ash-gray, almost transparent from root to leaf, with two berry-blue fruits clinging to its stem. It looked so fragile that it seemed as though it would snap or maybe even disintegrate at a touch.

“Four times...” So much for mental preparation. He clearly had not been prepared enough. Still, he said, “Buy it.”

With the war on, logistics were bound to suffer. All goods heading toward Xia Province would be military supplies first. The only other things that could entice merchants to risk the trip would be Xia Province specialties, whose prices kept rising as they moved inland.

As for rare goods like ashglow herbs, one could only hope to find them in Dunyu these days.

That silver note for one hundred thousand taels was still tucked away in his storage ring. He was going to have to cash it. A few days ago, his problem had merely been spending more than he earned.

𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

Sigh, I really miss the old days.

He yawned and asked, “Where’s Father and Little Two?”

“They went to the grand opening of Songyang Mansion,” Ling Guang said, tilting its head toward the door. “Only you, Master, slept till now.” The sun was nearly three poles high[1].

He Lingchuan snapped fully awake. “Huh? Songyang Mansion’s new branch opens today?”

Wasn’t it set to open tomorrow?

No, wasn’t it supposed to be the day after tomorrow?

“They only just arrived in Dunyu!”

Doesn’t a new storefront need time for renovations?

And why didn’t Father call me along?

He remembered that he had promised Li Fubo he would show up to lend support to the opening of Songyang Mansion’s branch. Hence, he rushed to wash up and change. By habit, he checked in on the progress of the broken saber’s repair, and then he hurried out the door.

He had not been in Dunyu for more than a few days, but he could already sense that the number of people on the streets and in the alleys had thinned. Either households kept their doors shut, or the shops along the main thoroughfares had their shutters down. Early spring air bit at the skin, and a bleakness seemed to blow straight into the face.

Did everyone get scared by the news that Xun Province’s army had invaded Xia Province?

Dunyu’s main street was long and wide, with a steady flow of traffic. Urging the driver to move faster, He Lingchuan did not bother reading the signs of the shops on either side.

He did not need to.

Soon, a thick scent of black powder[2] reached his nose.

“It’s up ahead.”

Thirteen to sixteen meters farther on, the ground was carpeted with the red paper skins of exploded firecrackers. A gust of wind sent them scudding and swirling.

Two servants were out with brooms, sweeping the street.

He Lingchuan got down from the carriage there and looked up. As expected, the signboard bore two gilded words: Songyang Mansion.

The storefront had a grand façade, and even the doorboards were made of redwood. The four doors came together to form an openwork carving of a whole scene of pines and cranes in a mountain forest.

People were gathered just to gawk at the doorboards, especially children, who stared without blinking—

The reason for this was not only that the picture was beautiful, but also that it actually moved.

Strictly speaking, it was the pines in the carving that swayed with the north wind, a live display of the soughing of the wind in the pines. As the trees moved, the cranes perched among them occasionally flapped their wings, and fish in the pond at the edge of the forest leaped out of the water, sending ripples across the surface.

It was no less captivating than a shadow play.

He Lingchuan knew that this was most likely the work of an illusion array. Even so, the carving on the doors was exquisitely lifelike, and it simultaneously showcased Songyang Mansion’s prowess. After all, keeping an array active costs energy every single second it runs.

So on opening day, Songyang Mansion’s Dunyu branch was the flashiest cub on the whole street—no, the flashiest storefront. Customers came and went in a happy bustle. The foot traffic for Songyang Mansion was at least ten times that of the shops on either side.

A single look was all it took for He Lingchuan to know that he was late.

There were no servants or carriages out front; the officials and nobles who had come to show their support had already left. Only the regular folk, drawn by the spectacle, still lingered.

How had he managed to sleep halfway to noon just because he had had a nightmare?

He stepped into the shop. As a clerk greeted and saw guests off, he said, “Is Grandmaster Artisan Li Fubo in?”

Before the clerk could answer, a voice called from the back, “Young Master He?”

He Lingchuan turned. “Hm? Steward Zhao?”

Back in Shihuan City, it had been Steward Zhao who received him at the Songyang Mansion’s branch there and facilitated the exchange of the violet-gold pestle for Wu Metal. He had not expected the Marquis of Songyang to bring him north as well, and he had not seen him on the road at all.

However, it was probably because he himself had been too engrossed in cultivation, ignoring pretty much everything that happened in the outside world.

Steward Zhao’s signature squinting smile appeared. “You’re here! Grandmaster Li and Her Lordship were just asking after you.”

“My family already came, didn’t they?” He Lingchuan scratched his head.

“Yes, yes. Governor-General He and Second Young Master He just left. You’ve only missed them by a step or two.”

Whether that was a polite turn of phrase, who knows?

“Her Lordship will be delighted to see you,” Steward Zhao continued smoothly. “Please, this way.”

He led He Lingchuan toward the rear rooms. As they walked, He Lingchuan glanced left and right and noticed that this new branch had a layout very similar to that of the main branch in Shihuan City. The front hall was packed with a dazzling array of goods, and plenty of clever little curios were set out to catch the eye.

Only then did he notice that Songyang Mansion had actually refined some toys into magical artifacts. Once the seven and eight-year-old young masters came in, they could not tear their eyes away, insisting that their elders buy them on the spot.

Fathers would ask the price, feel as if a thousand horses were stampeding through their hearts, and then—under the child’s urgent and intent stare—still open their purse.

The rooms in the back were all private chambers reserved for business talks and appraisals.

Passing a row of doors, he found that seven or eight of the rooms were already occupied.

Steward Zhao led him farther in and up a staircase to the second-floor loft.

Everything bore the mark of recent renovation. He could still smell the scent of fresh pine.

The loft was not large, and it was very quiet. By the window stood a guqin.

He had barely stepped inside when the Marquis of Songyang drifted out from behind a screen with a smile. “Young Master He.”

The room was warm as spring. She wore plain white, with only a sprinkling of gold at the collar and cuffs. A dark-patterned gold belt, a palm wide, cinched her waist into the slenderness of a willow tree.

The gold belt she was wearing could have come off as vulgar on the wrong person. But on her, it only presented with allure and not a shred of vulgarity.

“My apologies.” He Lingchuan handed over a wrapped gift and lied with a straight face. “Something came up at the last moment, causing me to end up coming late.”

“No matter. You’re here, and that brings light to my humble shop.” Li Qingge accepted the present and passed it to the maid behind her without opening it.

They both understood that it was just a token and not actually something of importance.

“You opened incredibly fast. I thought it would take at least half a month for you to go from taking over a shop to finishing renovations and opening doors.”

Li Qingge led him to seats by the window. “That was my assumption, too. But once I walked through this shop, I found everything exactly where it should be. There was hardly anything to deliberate. With that being the case, how could we not save time?”

A maid served tea. He Lingchuan took a sip, savoring the fragrance that bloomed across his tongue. The warmth from the sip of tea slipped down his throat to settle soothingly in his belly. A moment later, a sweet aftertaste rose up, with the faintest hint of flowers.

He could not help but praise it, “Excellent tea!”

“Your father said the same just now.” Li Qingge smiled and beckoned. Another maid brought over a delicate little box. “This is a jasmine dragon pearl. I’ve already set aside a piece for you.”

“Who’s giving gifts to whom now?” he joked, but he accepted it without a shred of courtesy.

They chatted idly for a while, and then Li Qingge brought up the broken saber’s repair, “Li Fubo tells me that the progress on the saber’s restoration is proceeding much slower than expected.”

1. This just means that it’s already late in the morning. I’m not 100% sure of the origin of the saying, but it might be referring to some form of a sundial, but a bit different? ☜

2. Note that this is just gunpowder. ☜