Chapter 41: Finding a Breakthrough

Once the Dragoncoil Desert loses its uniqueness, can the border of Great Kite still remain peaceful? That remains a huge question, as their neighbors are no pushovers.

Good and bad fortune come hand in hand. Had the Grand Marshal not offered such favorable terms, He Chunhua would not have wanted the Dragoncoil Desert to disappear.

He was silent for a moment, then murmured, "Chuan'er, do you think Commander Zhong's thirty-two years of steadfast defense were truly worth it?"

He Lingchuan figured that since his father was asking him, his father must already believe it wasn't worth it.

"No, it wasn't worth it," he said, feigning bluntness. "Dragoncoil City still fell, and the Xiluo Kingdom still perished. After an extra thirty-two years, he changed nothing."

"For the first twelve years, the Xiluo Kingdom was unable to advance west and reclaim lost territory; they didn't even know that a million soldiers and civilians were still holding out in Dragoncoil Wasteland. For the subsequent twenty years, the Xiluo Kingdom repeatedly attempted to cede Dragoncoil Wasteland to the Xianyou Kingdom in exchange for temporary respite. If I were Zhong Shengguang, dealing with a homeland so ineffectual and constantly dragging its feet would infuriate me to death!"

"The Xiluo Kingdom once had a formidable reputation. With a reign of two hundred and seventeen years, it was a rare long-lived state in this world." This continent rarely knew peace; the shortest-lived regimes lasted only a few dozen days, and most small states completed their entire cycle of rise, decline, and fall within twenty to thirty years, so the Xiluo Kingdom had endured exceptionally long. "However, when Zhong Shengguang defended Dragoncoil City, Xiluo was plagued by internal strife and external threats; the powerful indulged in festivities while the hungry were displaced, and foreign enemies relentlessly attacked. The death knell had already rung for its twilight years." After saying this, He Chunhua said no more, stroking Zhong Shengguang's tombstone with a sigh.

His father must have been thinking of himself, but He Lingchuan didn't voice it. Indeed, the current Great Kite Kingdom bore too much resemblance to the Xiluo of old.

At that moment, the clouds parted and the moon emerged, illuminating the desolate city.

"Commander Zhong, it must be quite boring guarding this place alone, isn't it? Let me join you for a couple more drinks." He Lingchuan couldn't help but pour two more drinks in honor of Zhong Shengguang. "It's a pity I couldn't pay respects to General Hong, nor admire his valiant presence!"

Both Zhong Shengguang and General Hong were legendary figures. As for He Lingchuan himself, he was more curious about the mysterious General Hong.

He asked He Chunhua, "There's a shrine to General Hong in the city, but no sign of his tomb, not even a cenotaph. Is it possible... he didn't actually die in the final battle?"

"General Hong was struck by seven bolts of heavenly lightning summoned at the cost of the Xianyou Imperial Preceptor's life, instantly turning to dust. Both sides' soldiers witnessed it firsthand, so there should be no mistake. Otherwise, the morale of Dragoncoil City would not have suddenly collapsed." He Chunhua shook his head. "You are still young; you don't know the limits of human power."

He Lingchuan was about to speak, when suddenly two whooshing sounds came from the northeast.

Two signal flares shot into the sky and burst open.

They were the pre-arranged signals. He Chunhua saw them and immediately said, "They've found it. Let's go!"

***

Within thirty minutes, everyone gathered at the Mitian Temple.

It was located at the heart of Dragoncoil City, covering an area of ten *mu*, with numerous courtyards, pavilions, and halls.

One could imagine that during its heyday, when incense burned brightly, it would have been a bustling scene with ancient trees providing shade and crowds of visitors. However, it had now become a vast, desolate ruin, more than a hundred years after being ransacked and burned. The clear springs and lotus ponds had long dried up, and the once lush ancient trees had withered into dead wood, never sprouting new growth again.

At least half of the exquisite buildings had been destroyed, and the magnificent main hall, dedicated to Mitian, was completely ruined. It had been toppled first, then set ablaze. As the group approached the original site, they saw only a few charred wooden stumps lying haphazardly.

A touch was enough for it to crumble.

The Mitian divine statue was a stone carving; even just a section the length of its forearm was as tall as He Lingchuan. Unfortunately, no one could discern its original appearance, because after it was toppled, the entire statue had been cut into seven or eight sections, each hacked to pieces with knives and axes, then smeared with ink.

The allied forces hated Dragoncoil City and the Great Wind Army so intensely that they even detested their faith to the core.

Once everyone had assembled, Nian Songyu, holding a glazed jar, declared solemnly, "This is the place!"

He walked a circle around the pond directly in front of the main hall. The three-corpse worms in the glazed jar also changed direction accordingly. No matter which direction he moved, they always pointed towards the side wall furthest from the pond!

"The pond?" Situ Han asked, surprised. "Are you sure it's this pond? If we make a mistake, we won't be able to get any more fresh water."

The Chapa Highlands were rich in water, and the water features within the Mitian Temple were exquisitely designed. There were springs, small streams, and no fewer than six ponds.

The pond Nian Songyu pointed to was just outside the main hall. It was somewhat irregular in shape, resembling a wishing well where people tossed coins. Its area was approximately twenty-six to twenty-seven square meters.

Of course, it was now empty, with neither koi nor coins.

Sun Fuping walked around the pond, pressing his hand on the rim a few times. "There are several color variations in the masonry along the pond's edge," he noted. "It looks like it was sealed up later."

Everyone looked, and indeed it was true. There were several repairs along the pond's edge, crudely and unevenly done, differing greatly from the original craftsmanship of the pond. It was clear that these later repairs were just that—repairs, done quite perfunctorily.

"There's a considerable age difference between the old and new sections," He Chunhua mused. "And the repairs are crude, not like the workmanship of Dragoncoil City's people who worshipped Mitian, nor like something the Xian-Ba Allied Forces would do. Could this be the work of the last team dispatched by the Baling Kingdom?"

Surely, Grandmaster Zhu Gen's favorite disciples weren't sent all this way just to be masons, were they?

If this pond was indeed repaired by them, then they must have had a specific purpose.

What He Lingchuan was more concerned about was why this pond had been dug up in the first place.

Sun Fuping said gravely, "More importantly, why was the pond dug up, and by whom?"

Zeng Feixiong pointed to the scattered stones of various sizes on the ground. "Perhaps it was accidentally damaged by falling stones when the main hall was destroyed," he suggested.

The temple had been brutally looted. Such magnificent buildings and statues had collapsed with a thunderous roar, even creating large craters in the ground. What was so strange about a mere small pond being smashed through?

"Perhaps this is the effect the orchestrator wished to fake?" He Chunhua pondered. "When Dragoncoil City fell, the allied soldiers would undoubtedly enter and plunder extensively, and their officers would be powerless to stop them. Whatever these soldiers destroyed would be nothing out of the ordinary. If this pond appeared to have been damaged during the looting, the allied forces wouldn't investigate further, allowing its hidden secret to be concealed."

"At a time when people were panicking and Dragoncoil was about to fall, who could still arrange things so calmly?"

The answer was almost obvious. Nian Songyu murmured, "Zhong Shengguang, or his trusted confidant. He must have opened the pond and drained the water before the city fell."

If they were not mistaken, the deeper meaning behind this action was worth investigating.

Decades later, the Baling Kingdom's expedition team likely made a similar assessment and repaired the pond again.

Situ Han came closer to inspect it, a troubled expression on his face. "Do you mean, gentlemen, that we should fill this pond with water? Even if we pour in all the spare fresh water from our two hundred-plus men, it probably won't even cover the bottom of the pond."