Chapter 47 – Xiaohan Town

Upon hearing this, the two Bureau of Patrol officers actually let out a sigh of relief. They glared fiercely at the innkeeper’s attendant. “That makes things easier then. Although the Dream Marten has the ability to pull people into dreams, its offensive power isn’t strong. Without this rogue cultivator’s assistance, it can’t amount to much.”

“Wait until we bring him back and interrogate him properly. Then we’ll give everyone a satisfactory answer.”

The attendant sneered but didn’t say a single word.

At that moment, someone asked: “Where is your so-called Overseer? Why hasn’t he returned yet?”

With the attendant captured and the truth of the matter uncovered, the disappearance case of cultivators that had troubled the Bureau of Patrol for over a year was finally coming to a close. Zhang Hu was brimming with satisfaction, sweeping away the humiliation of having been deceived along with the dozen or so others. He smiled and said, “The Dream Marten’s range of ability is limited. They’ve probably woken up from the dream and fallen asleep somewhere out there.”

Though he said as much, the two still deliberated briefly. Zhang Hu stayed behind to guard the attendant while Zhao Long went into the mountains to search.

“The mountain forests are so vast, who knows where they might have wandered off to. This Poor Monk will go with you.” The linen-robed elder instructed the young man to look after his junior sister, then stepped to Zhao Long’s side.

Zhao Long was dark-complexioned and of a quiet disposition. Seeing Daoist Shanshi offer his assistance of his own accord, he sincerely cupped his fists and bowed. “Many thanks, Senior.”

Zhan Changfeng felt something was amiss. “It was able to control all of you into heading into the mountain forests — there must be a purpose behind that. Why not gather the Bureau of Patrol’s full forces before going in to search?”

“This—” Daoist Shanshi had not even finished speaking when Zhang Hu’s eyes went wide with fury. “We cultivators defy the heavens and forge ahead — how could we not even dare to go in and find a few people? Besides, the rogue cultivator is already in our hands. What is there to fear?!”

“Hmph.” Zhan Changfeng flicked her sleeve and turned back toward the inn. “Do as you please.”

“Hey, this kid!” Zhang Hu laughed in spite of his anger. “What airs he puts on. Does he really think the cultivation world can tolerate the temper of some pampered young master from a wealthy family?”

“Don’t fuss over it, don’t fuss over it.” Daoist Shanshi offered a few words of comfort, yet didn’t take Zhan Changfeng’s words to heart either. Though this child was clever, his cold and contrary nature truly needed tempering.

These people were not subjects of the Yin Dynasty — she owed them nothing. What’s more, she had offered them a well-meaning reminder and been met with such poor attitudes. Zhan Changfeng couldn’t be bothered.

She entered the inn and walked to one of the tables.

The table still held the remnants of a half-eaten meal. As she had suspected, the Bureau of Patrol’s people had fallen into their dreams right in the middle of eating.

When she had first heard the flute’s melody, she had struggled for a moment before regaining her senses. These people were no weaker than her — how could they have been so easily bewitched?

Turning it over in her mind, the only difference between herself and them was whether or not she had eaten the food provided by the inn.

“Your Highness, are you hungry? Would you like me to go prepare something in the kitchen?” The coachman, seeing her gaze fall on the table, assumed she was hungry.

“Come, let’s go to the kitchen.”

“Ah, allow me to cook for you, Your Highness.”

“…I’m not hungry.”

In all her years, this was Zhan Changfeng’s first time entering a kitchen. It was simply filthy and disorganized. She casually pointed at some vegetables. “What is this called?”

“Your Highness, that is green vegetables.”

“They look a bit different from the Agricultural Atlas illustrations. And this yellow one?”

“That’s called yellow vegetables — also known as yellow sprout cabbage.”

“And this, is it white cabbage?”

“…Your Highness, that is taro. With the skin peeled off.”

Zhan Changfeng’s expression didn’t change. She even carried a hint of approval. “You’re doing well. Tell me the names of everything in here, one by one.”

The coachman swallowed. Good lord — was that sarcasm or sincere?

“…This is crucian carp…”

“Keep going.”

“Yes, alright. This is sweet potato… mushrooms… hind leg meat. The jars contain soy sauce… cumin… salt. This one should be fine white sugar, let me taste it…” The coachman picked up a ceramic jar, dipped a finger in, and put it in his mouth.

“Hm? There’s no flavor at all…”

“Thud.”

The coachman collapsed to the ground. The ceramic jar rolled far away, its contents spilling out and trailing a thin white line across the floor.

That was likely the culprit — worth investigating.

Zhan Changfeng took an empty ceramic vial, scraped some of the powder into it with a spoon, then walked out of the kitchen and called to the others outside: “Someone has fainted in here. Come help carry him.”

Zhang Hu barked, “Did you go touching something you shouldn’t have? Everyone stay in your rooms and don’t move around until the Bureau of Patrol says otherwise!”

“Patrol Officer Zhang had better keep a close eye on his own prisoner.” The only Prenatal realm cultivator present curled the corner of her lips. “As it happens, someone else may have already found your culprit’s instrument for you.”

Without so much as a glance at Zhang Hu’s darkening expression, she waved her hand. “Anyone who can move, come lend a hand.”

“What did he touch to faint? The white powder on the ground?”

“Precisely.”

Several cultivators examined the powder closely but didn’t dare taste it. After looking it over at length without making heads or tails of it, they worked together to carry the coachman to his room.

At that moment, an enraged shout came from one of the rooms: “What’s all this noise?! Will you let a man sleep?!”

Everyone exchanged glances — there was still someone else here!

Bang — the door was kicked open. The man inside, bleary-eyed with sleep, was startled awake. When he made out the ferocious crowd at the doorway, he immediately clutched his blanket to his chest. “Wh-what do you want?!”

One person went over and felt around him briefly, then came back shaking their head. “He’s a mortal.”

“It seems it really was targeting cultivators specifically.”

Indeed, every person who had been caught was either a martial cultivator or a method cultivator — not a single ordinary person among them.

“Check the other rooms as well.”

The group dispersed and felt their way toward each closed door.

The Prenatal realm cultivator leaned against the wall, listening to the sounds of doors being forced open elsewhere. “How did you, young friend, discover that we were within a dream?”

Zhan Changfeng replied humbly: “For one, I hadn’t touched the food the kitchen provided, so I was more clearheaded. For another, the dream was too real.”

The Prenatal realm cultivator leaned forward, puzzled. “How so?”

“Are you familiar with the roads of Xiaohan Town?”

“Yes.”

“But I am not.”

They knew the roads of Xiaohan Town, so within the dream it was as though the scene had been faithfully recreated — they naturally had no reason to doubt the path they were walking.

But Zhan Changfeng did not know them. In her mind, the roads of Xiaohan Town could not be reconstructed. And being the observant person she was, she had quickly noticed the discrepancy.

The Prenatal realm cultivator’s expression stiffened, then softened into a light smile. “So that’s how it was. Even so, young friend, your powers of observation are not to be underestimated. If not for your warning today, we truly would have been made fools of.”

“Senior flatters me. However, there is one matter this junior does not understand and would humbly ask Senior to enlighten me.”

“Speak freely.”

“What place is Xiaohan Town?” Past the inn there was indeed a town called Wuhe Village — that was where they had planned to make their stop. But she had never heard of any place called Xiaohan Town.

“It is not difficult to find. Any cultivator can see it,” she pointed and said. “Thirty li west of Wuhe Village.”

“Only, what with the recent Night Procession of the Hundred Ghosts and the opening of the Heavenward Path, many have come to this area — all manner of people, the good and the unscrupulous alike. Young friend, you would do well to be careful.”

Having said her piece, the Prenatal realm cultivator departed briskly.

The group investigated several rooms and found only ordinary mortals without any cultivation — no further clues to be had. They settled in to wait until dawn before making further plans.

The inn returned to quiet.

The candle flame on the table burned in silence. A drop of wax rolled down the body of the candle, hardening into one long trail.

Zhan Changfeng rested her chin in her hand and carefully recalled the events of the day, finding them all quite remarkable — a Dream Marten wearing human skin, a collective dreamscape, and a talisman tossed out by a Daoist that, though so small and thin, had conjured roaring flames from thin air.

Before coming to Huangzhou, she had also encountered voodoo bugs, and spirits, and the strange and varied methods of Gongsun Jing — and even her own cultivation by devouring the Pure Yin power of the Hundred Ghosts.

But at the time, all her thoughts had been on the Yin Dynasty and its future, and she had never probed deeper into any of it. Only now, belatedly, did it occur to her that she had been touching a whole new world.

And of this world’s nature and its rules, she knew nothing at all.

Judging by today alone, it was undoubtedly a world of danger, strangeness, and wonder.

“Life and death, struggle and strife — it is not confined to the mortal realm alone.”

(End of Chapter)