After the Immortals disappeared

Outside the Suhong Hall was a small garden.

As father and son passed through the gate, they saw two figures already seated inside.

He Chunhua tilted his head slightly and spoke in a low voice, "The two you saw in the street the other day?"

He Lingchuan nodded quickly. "Yes, it's them!"

The same pair who had recklessly galloped through the crowded market, nearly trampling a child, before heading northeast out of the city.

Although He Chunhua hadn't been home for the past two days, it seemed he already knew about the incident.

Who informed him?

It was likely Uncle Hao. Once again, He Lingchuan marveled at his father's meticulous control—not just over his two sons but also over Heishui City itself.

It's a bit terrifying, really.

They stepped into the hall. He Chunhua addressed the unexpected guests, his tone calm but firm. "May I ask where you hail from?"

The white-robed youth whom He Lingchuan had seen days earlier had swapped his attire for a formal set of lake-green embroidered robes, clearly meant to show respect for the local host.

Now, for the first time, He Lingchuan saw the gray-clad man's face.

The man was nearing sixty, tall and lean, with hair streaked white. Despite his age, his eyes were sharp and penetrating, as if capable of uncovering the most hidden secrets.

The youth introduced himself with a smile: "I am Nian Songyu, Commandant of Yangwu in Yuecheng, Xun Prefecture. By my father's orders, I have come here!" He gestured to his companion. "This is the National Preceptor of Yuan, Master Sun Fuping!"

Even with his steady composure, He Chunhua was visibly startled. "What!"

Nian Songyu was surprising enough. He had anticipated someone sent by the Xun Prefecture governor, Nian Zanli, but not the man's second son.

But the presence of Sun Fuping, a National Preceptor, was entirely unexpected.

The National Preceptors of Yuan were legendary figures, each possessing mysterious and unparalleled abilities. In peacetime, they safeguarded the nation's fate; in war, they were devastating weapons capable of altering the course of battles with a single move.

To meet such a figure in this desolate frontier was utterly extraordinary.

He Chunhua's expression grew serious as he carefully scrutinized the elder man. Only after a long moment did he exhale deeply and bow slightly. "It truly is the esteemed National Preceptor. Forgive my rudeness!"

Sun Fuping offered a faint smile. "I recall meeting you at the sacrificial ceremony twenty years ago. You were there with your grandfather, Master He, were you not?"

"Time spares no one," He Chunhua said with a touch of melancholy before gesturing to his son. "This is my eldest son, He Lingchuan."

He Chunhua had spent many years in the capital and had seen Sun Fuping in various formal settings. Though twenty years had passed and the man had aged, his distinctive features were still recognizable.

He Lingchuan stepped forward to pay his respects.

Nian Songyu greeted him with a smile. "So we meet again so soon."

"Indeed," He Lingchuan replied with a bright grin, catching the subtle undertone in Nian's words. "It seems we are destined to cross paths, Commandant Nian."

He Chunhua's brow furrowed slightly. "You've met before?"

Before Nian Songyu could respond, He Lingchuan jumped in. "Father may not know, but the other day I happened to see them while dining on the street. Commandant Nian even saved a child from being trampled in the crowd. It was a most commendable act!"

Just as Uncle Hao entered the hall, he heard this remark and couldn't help but twitch.

"Oh?" He Chunhua's tone carried a trace of admiration. "So that's how it is. Commandant Nian, not only are you young and accomplished, but you're also kind-hearted. Truly remarkable."

The four of them smiled knowingly, each hiding their true thoughts.

He Lingchuan understood perfectly: Nian Songyu's rank was higher than his own, and his father's superior in Xun Prefecture outranked his own father. Any prior grievances would have to be swept aside quickly to focus on the matter at hand—which, he suspected, would be far from pleasant.

Nian Songyu wasted no time, his smile fading as he addressed He Chunhua. "Governor He, we have come on urgent business, traveling three days and nights to reach here."

He Chunhua, ever gracious, said, "You must be weary from your journey. Tonight, you shall stay at the Baishi Pavilion, the finest guest house in Heishui City." He then called for a servant to bring fresh tea.

Seeing that He Chunhua wasn't asking questions, Nian Songyu pressed on. "This matter will require your assistance, Governor He."

He Chunhua nodded. "I am at your service. Please, elaborate."

Nian Songyu's tone turned grave. "Governor He, are you aware that Woling Pass has fallen?"

The news was like a thunderclap. He Chunhua nearly jumped out of his seat. "What? Woling Pass has been breached?"

Woling Pass? He Lingchuan quickly searched his memory. The name sounded vaguely familiar—likely somewhere in the central regions of Yuan, near rivers and mountains.

"How is this possible?" He Chunhua's voice grew tense. "I heard that the rebel forces from Buxin and Hongchuan joined forces in May and began attacking Woling Pass. But the pass is a natural fortress, fortified repeatedly over the past decade. It is famously easy to defend and hard to attack. And with General Zhao Ronglue, the 'Ironclad General,' in command, well-supplied and well-manned, how could it fall so easily?"

By his estimation, Woling Pass should have been able to hold out for at least a year or two, long enough for the rebellion to collapse under its own weight.

Nian Songyu sighed. "Your knowledge of the central front is more thorough than many nobles in the capital. Unfortunately, General Zhao was gravely injured in battle and died of his wounds. With his death, the army's morale collapsed, and the officers began infighting. The rebels took advantage of the chaos, and two weeks ago, a traitor opened the gates, allowing them to storm the pass."

The hall fell silent, the weight of the news sinking in.

"You understand the strategic importance of Woling Pass to Yuan's heartlands," Nian Songyu continued. "It guards Fengling Crossing, the most vital ferry on the Hongchuan River. The rainy season has swollen the river, and if the rebels use it to bypass land defenses, they can sail directly to Shihuan City."

His voice turned cold. "From there, it's only fifteen miles to the capital."

Fifteen miles—a distance cavalry could cover in mere moments.

Even He Lingchuan, unfamiliar with Yuan's geography, grasped the severity of the situation. His family might be defending a remote border town, but if the capital fell, what was the point of their efforts here?

He Chunhua exhaled deeply, his breath icy. "Where are the rebels now?"

"They remain at Woling Pass."

Both father and son were taken aback. The rebels had seized the pass but hadn't advanced?

"Trouble with the river?" He Chunhua guessed.

"Exactly. Zhao Ronglue's deputy, Xu Dayou, rallied the remnants of the garrison and burned all the ships at the docks. The rebels, though victorious, are stranded without boats. Recent rains have further delayed any attempts to build new ones, which will take at least fifty days."

"Fate has granted us a reprieve," Sun Fuping interjected. "But the situation remains dire. Troops are rushing to Woling Pass, yet the odds are grim." He paused, his gaze sharp. "The survival of the Yuan dynasty may well depend on these fifty days."