Chapter 37: Disagreement

Everyone except him and Situ Han had prepared an abundance of food. Nian Songyu's dried cured meat looked ordinary, reddish-black, but when heated over the fire, it released an exceptionally fragrant aroma, clearly seasoned with many spices. Cutting off two pieces to eat with fine white flatbread made the expedition feel a bit like a picnic.

He Chunhua prepared a bowl of oily noodle tea. When hot water was added, the aroma of sesame and peanuts wafted even further than the scent of meat. He had also added some cashews and walnuts, instantly elevating its quality.

He Lingchuan always felt that drinking such a concoction was most satisfying when slurped down quickly, but his father ate gracefully and silently.

Upon hearing the Imperial Advisor's words, He Chunhua pondered for a moment, and his expression changed: "We went at the wrong time? Wait, he couldn't be talking about the Sandstorm Season, could he?"

"All treasure-hunting teams avoided the Sandstorm Season, only to find nothing. Zhu Gen tried every known method and supernatural power but couldn't detect the Great Square Pot. Therefore, he concluded that this treasure was likely hidden securely by Zhong Shengguang, or even by the deity he worshipped, and that certain preconditions must be met to find it," Sun Fuping said slowly. "Otherwise, latercomers could search every inch of the Panlong Ruins and still never find it."

He Lingchuan, his mouth glistening with oil from eating heartily, spoke without missing a beat: "Zhong Shengguang resented the allied forces, so of course he wouldn't want them to get the Great Square Pot. Is there a possibility that the Great Square Pot was taken back by the deities and is no longer in the human world? And that the current strange phenomena in the Panlong Desert are caused by vengeful spirits – no, wait, by heroic souls? After all, the Three Corpses Worms are naturally born in the human body; they aren't unique to the Great Square Pot."

Following his personal principle of "no matter how tough things get, don't let your mouth suffer," he first tore off a sauced goose leg and devoured it, then crunched on two fragrant noodle pancakes.

The local noodles in Blackwater City, after being boiled, were springy and firm. When hot-air dried, they surprisingly resembled instant noodles, a beloved companion from his other world. Locals would boil the noodles, re-dust them with flour, fry them into cakes, and then sprinkle them with chili and spices, creating an excellent dry ration suitable for both home and travel.

He Lingchuan had specifically requested extra meat and eggs at the time.

As a martial arts practitioner, his appetite was much larger than others', and he couldn't go without staple foods and meat at every meal.

"He's practically a glutton, and his eating habits are so crude." Nian Songyu glanced at him disdainfully. "The Three Corpses Worms, which can even invade spellcasters, must be unique to the Great Square Pot."

From the moment a person is born, the Three Corpses Worms accompany the human body, becoming more mischievous as one grows, disturbing thoughts, fostering greed, and creating evil intentions. Therefore, they are also known as the "Three Corpse Gods," far from being mere insects. For one to cultivate and attain enlightenment, an essential step is to wield the Sword of Wisdom and sever the Three Corpses, thereby achieving purity of mind.

Of course, this refers to severing the Three Corpses Worms within one's own body.

The Three Corpses Worms lurking in the Panlong Desert could even affect spellcasters with pure minds and could remain active outdoors for extended periods, fearing nothing but sunlight.

These enhanced Three Corpses Worms must have originated from the Great Square Pot.

He Lingchuan chuckled, "According to the Imperial Advisor, the Great Square Pot only appears during the Sandstorm Season?"

"Highly likely."

"Then we're not staying. You can stay and have your fun." He Lingchuan stood up abruptly and walked out without looking back. "Dad, let's go home!"

The Sandstorm Season? What a joke. There were a thousand ways to commit suicide; he didn't need to come all the way here for that!

A figure flashed before them, and Nian Songyu stood with his sword, blocking the stairwell. "Go back and sit down, or I'll send you on your way right now, no need to wait for the Sandstorm Season!"

"Oh?" He Lingchuan, instead of getting angry, chuckled. "So quickly, your true colors are showing?" He then turned to his father. "Dad, these two just want to use us as cannon fodder. Are you leaving or not?"

He Chunhua put down his half-drunk noodle tea and stood up. "The Imperial Advisor has made thorough plans and is confident of success. Even without Blackwater City's assistance, it seems he can still return with the treasure."

Nian Songyu's smile turned grim. "Do you think this is still Blackwater City? Killing you two is as easy as killing chickens! Without you father and son, I'll still lead this team of over two hundred people. Who dares to object!"

If the He father and son died, naturally the highest-ranking person would take charge. This team would still be in their hands.

Zeng Feixiong had already stood up. At that moment, his half-drawn blade scraped with a "clang." "Commander Nian, watch your words! We only support Commander He!"

The personal guards stationed outside the building heard the commotion and rushed in, surrounding everyone.

In just a few words, the tension in the room became palpable.

He Lingchuan's eyes darted around. What would happen if they seized this opportunity to openly confront them? Would the two opponents dare to kill him and his father?

Nian Songyu was a formidable individual, but could his two hundred-plus subordinates handle Imperial Advisor Sun?

Was this a good chance to eliminate them?

These thoughts flashed through his mind, and the answers quickly emerged: Yes, they would dare; no, his subordinates couldn't handle him; and no, it wasn't a good opportunity.

It seemed he and his father couldn't escape unharmed; they would need to find another way.

"Young man, you're full of fire," Sun Fuping said, dropping his biscuit and gulping down several mouthfuls of water. "Commander He, you've always had a reputation for being steady. Why are you joining this boy's antics? If this were a certain death trap, would I travel a thousand miles just to die?"

Before Commander He could speak, He Lingchuan interjected, "No, you wouldn't. You'd just send us to die."

Both the old man and the young one had been ill-intentioned from the start.

Nian Songyu squinted at him. "Still trying to negotiate for more? Not enough the first time?"

The more he looked at He Lingchuan, the more disgusted he became; the same was true for He Lingchuan looking at him.

Neither bothered to hide their feelings anymore.

"Everything else can be discussed, Imperial Advisor, but wherever the mad sands pass, life is extinguished. It's not a joking matter, nor should we even consider trying it!" He Chunhua coughed. "Furthermore, our provisions and water will only last another three to five days, which isn't enough to sustain us until the Sandstorm Season arrives."

He was trying to ease the tension, and Sun Fuping cooperated well: "If we can initiate the Sandstorm Season, I am confident I can lead everyone back safely; if not, we will return to Blackwater City before the true Sandstorm Season begins. How does that sound?"

"Initiate the Sandstorm Season?" Situ Han, the leader of the desert bandits, couldn't help but interject. "Can that even be initiated early?"

And die sooner?

He had stayed quietly in the corner, finishing a naan bread and then taking out a few black scorpions to roast. He knew he had no right to speak; everyone here was his superior.

But as he listened, it sounded like he was heading toward a dead end.

"Wait, please wait a moment!" His expression changed as he reconsidered. "There are still people on Red Cliff Road now. If the Sandstorm Season starts early, they'll surely die!"

"There are only a few days left until the Sandstorm Season; everyone knows they shouldn't try to make a last-minute profit," Nian Songyu said dismissively. "Besides, in previous years, the Sandstorm Season never started on a specific month, day, or time. Commander He, haven't there always been casualties on this road every year?"