Ahead of them stood a half peak[1]. It was barren and desolate, with only a few scrawny bushes clinging to cracks and corners. Yet any first-time traveler would find their gaze drawn to it, for its shape was too strange to ignore.

The upper half of the mountain was simply gone. It did not appear to have weathered or crumbled off, but sliced clean. The break was so unnaturally flat it looked as though some giant had swung a blade and cleaved it in two.

The severed edge was abrupt and decisive.

And this was no mere bamboo shoot; it was a jagged peak of rocks, weighing well over a million tons. No casual force could carve it like that.

Locals recounted a legend that in the distant past, an immortal had fought a battle here and, with a single sword stroke, split the mountain in two. Thus, the place came to be known as “Immortal’s Cleave.”

Such tales were prevalent throughout the world and difficult to verify. But years ago, the former He Lingchuan had climbed to the very top and seen the cut with his own eyes. The cut was smooth, eerily so. Across its vast surface, there was not a single bump or dent. Even the finest artisan could not have polished it so cleanly.

Whether manmade or not, it defied reason.

Sun Fuping stood gazing at this half peak, as though he could still feel the savage force and blinding sharpness of that long-gone strike. After a long moment, he exhaled. “The Dao has no end.”

As the road wound around the mountain saddle, a lone Euphrates poplar appeared at the roadside. Beneath its stiff branches, two bodies hung swaying in the wind.

As a breeze blew, the bodies swung.

A small crowd had gathered beneath the tree, pointing and whispering to one another.

As Sun Fuping’s group drew near, they saw two white boards tied to the corpses, each bearing a single word: “Courtesy” and “Reciprocity.”[2]

Nian Songyu and Sun Fuping’s expressions darkened at once. Their gazes were sharp as they landed on the small transparent tokens pinned to the lapels of both corpses. Each of the tokens was etched with the word “Donglai.”

These two individuals were clearly guards from Donglai Mansion, sent to hunt the sand leopards in the Western Mountains. Both of them were under Nian Songyu and Sun Fuping’s command, and they had vanished after heading toward Heishui City. It was just that when clues to the specific sand leopard they were looking for began to surface, they had not investigated its whereabouts further.

And now, the two were before them as corpses. They hung here, right along the path they were bound to take.

Nian Songyu saw the cause of death immediately. Both men had their necks snapped, and they had clearly been tortured first.

Sun Fuping saw Nian Songyu’s face flush with anger, the veins on his neck bulging. He quickly reached out to press a hand to his shoulder. “Don’t lose your temper! Is this not exactly what we expected?”

As the guards had been missing for some time, they had already assumed they were dead.

“But these men from Donglai Mansion were under us. That bastard is clearly taking revenge!” Nian Songyu gritted his teeth. You took out two of our guards just because I took out a mere sparrowhawk monster?

Donglai Mansion was far from the border. It was the Minister of War who had granted them access to these guards.

Sun Fuping’s tone turned stern as he said, “The bigger picture matters more. We can’t afford infighting right now.”

“Once we have the Generous Pot…” Nian Songyu bit down on the words, knowing full well that He Lingchuan had correctly judged they still needed Heishui City’s troops. He could not turn hostile, at least yet. He snapped his head around and barked, “He Lingchuan!”

He Chunhua, too, was stunned at the sight of the corpses. Aren’t these two supposed to be locked up at the Red and White Society’s farmstead?

But then, he remembered how willful his eldest son was.

Just because he had been more restrained these last two months did not mean that his nature had changed.

Nian Songyu called twice before He Lingchuan finally rode up slowly, facing the other party’s smoldering rage head-on with a lazy smile. “Commandant Nian, what seems to be the issue?”

“Do you recognize these two?”

He Lingchuan squinted at the bodies and felt a jolt of unease. Uncle Hao, did you vent all your frustration at once?

“Of course not. With so many people coming and going through Heishui City, how could I remember every face?” He paused, then added, “Hmm? They’re wearing Donglai Mansion tokens. How strange… How could such important men end up hanged in some backwater place like this?”

“Good, good.” Nian Songyu did not explode in fury. Instead, he smiled. Then, abruptly switching tones, he asked, “What do you usually do when a companion or associate dies out on the Hongya Route?”

He had already guessed that these two had been killed by He Lingchuan’s hand. The brat was obviously trying to make a statement. Any further questioning would only invite more provocation.

“There’s always sky burials[3] if we can’t bring the bodies back,” said He Lingchuan with a shrug. “If they were destined for a bad end, then let the desert’s creatures enjoy nature’s gift.”

He Chunhua stepped in. “Most are buried in the ground.”

“Then bury them in the ground.” They’re from Donglai Mansion, after all. Leaving them to rot would be unsightly.

He Lingchuan chuckled. “A trivial matter. Commandant Nian, it would be better for you to focus on the task at hand, lest you delay the entire unit.”

At last, he got to throw those words right back. It felt so good.

A flicker of venom flashed through Nian Songyu’s eyes, but he quickly masked it and ordered Zeng Feixiong to have the bodies buried on the spot.

The march, of course, could not stop. The expedition pressed forward.

Still, the feeling of Nian Songyu’s gaze lingering on him—like a venomous snake poised at his back—sent chills down He Lingchuan’s spine. He tugged at his father’s reins, slowing their pace to fall back into the center of the formation.

Someone as prideful as Commandant Nian would naturally lead from the front. He would not keep glancing back at He Lingchuan, right?

“What were you thinking?” He Chunhua scolded in a low voice. “Killing those two changes nothing—if anything, it’ll only deepen your grudge with Nian Songyu.”

He did not know that it was Uncle Hao who had done the killing.

“It was to vent!” He Lingchuan sneered, watching his father scold him as if it were no big deal. “Those two stooped to shameless schemes against us, and I’m not even allowed to slap back? Besides, he’s the one who needs us. Now’s the best time to put pressure on him, not back down.”

“If we make it back alive, then…”

“If we return with the Generous Pot, the Minister of War will be overjoyed, and he won’t care about a couple of dead thugs,” He Lingchuan said. “Father, you’re not old yet, so why are you so cautious?”

He Chunhua fell silent for a moment, then sighed, his expression dimming. “You’re right. I’ve been too cautious.”

He kept thinking about working in the same court with these people in the future, especially if they returned to the capital without a solid foundation. Fewer enemies would mean a smoother road.

That may not be wrong. But this timid, deferential mindset—always tiptoeing around the powerful—how could anyone accomplish anything significant like that?

He silently took himself to task, then turned to He Lingchuan. “Chuan’er, you’re still angry I brought you along, aren’t you?”

Should he answer honestly with a resounding “yes,” or lie through my teeth with a “not at all”? He Lingchuan gave a dry laugh. “How would I dare?”

“A father always wants his son to be safe and sound. But in this world, that’s just not how things work.” He Chunhua patted him on the shoulder. “You’re no child anymore. It’s time you had some real trials.”

He Lingchuan could not help grumbling, “Most people start with small trials and gradually work their way up.”

But you? You threw me straight into hard mode.

The complaint was written all over his face. He Chunhua chuckled. “Don’t blame your father for being ruthless. With you by my side, our odds of making it back go up by at least twenty percent. The grand shaman’s words weren’t spoken lightly.”

He Lingchuan rolled his eyes. If the original owner of this body really was a child of fortune, why did he die so quietly? Why did some random outsider like me end up in his place?

However, that retort stayed locked in his throat.

There was no point arguing anymore. And besides, He Chunhua was both a regional senior official and his father. He did not actually owe him an explanation.

1. This is not a reference to the Half Peak in the Rocky Mountains. Explanation is in the following paragraph. ☜

2. The words in the raws were actually “礼尚” and “往来” respectively. Together, they mean courtesy demands reciprocity, which basically refers to the importance of mutual respect and exchange in maintaining positive relationships. In this case, however, it seems to just refer to the common phrase “an eye for an eye.” ☜

3. This likely refers to the Tibetan funeral practice of sky burials. ☜