Guangchuan Continent had an extensive network of waterways. For travelers making long journeys, boats were faster than horses, but for the Daoists, riding was more convenient.
Within thirty li of riding, the difference between the four was already clear. The fine horses beneath Chongling and his two disciples still had strength to spare and moved with effortless freedom, but Hou Niao's mount was already foaming at the mouth and showing signs that it might give out at any moment.
Chongling frowned. Bringing this fellow along was a burden, yet he could hardly leave him behind. Although he knew the man valued his promises, if he really let him go to the Divine Capital on his own, who could guarantee anything?
Faced with life and death, how many could truly meet their fate with a willing heart?
"There are a few little tricks. Lift your qi to lighten your body, and become one with your horse. You can stroke its head and try to establish mutual trust..."
Only after Chongling finished his brief lesson did Hou Niao incline his body in the saddle and apologize. "Forgive me, Daoist Master. I can't gather qi yet..."
Chongling broke into an involuntary laugh. He had forgotten that. This criminal investigator wore a thin veneer of Daoism, but in truth, he was an ordinary mortal through and through, merely somewhat stronger and able to sense the spiritual currents of heaven and earth. How could he grasp the methods of a true cultivator?
He pointed at one of his companions. "Xiaosong, exchange mounts with him."
This became their way of traveling. Every thirty li, Hou Niao exchanged mounts with the two Daoist disciples, Xiaosong and Jiyue, to preserve the horses' strength. With that arrangement, they could manage a day's ride without spending too much time resting.
Of the two Daoist Sect disciples, Xiaosong was at the Grain Avoidance stage, while Jiyue was at the Foundation Cultivation stage. The three Daoists occupied the third, fourth, and fifth stages of the Daoist Sect's cultivation realms respectively. After spending some time with them, Hou Niao felt that they did not seem to have a true master-disciple relationship; their respective standing merely depended on their cultivation stages. He knew nothing about the Daoist Sect's system and could only guess.
Traveling with them, he could sense the Daoists' faint, intermittent distance. Clearly, in their eyes, his presence made no difference: he was a burden awaiting punishment, of no importance. His pride ran deep but remained restrained. Since they thought little of him, he would not rush to fawn over them.
Thus they traveled in silence, from one city to the next.
The Daoist Sect's inspections in Anhe Kingdom followed no fixed schedule. There might be several in a year, or one every several years, depending entirely on shifts in popular sentiment and changes in the situation. Apart from places where public resentment ran particularly high, their destinations were essentially chosen at random, full of the Daoists' free and unfettered style.
Chongling's current inspection, for instance, was an incidental assignment. Even Guangchuan Continent had been chosen with a casual point of a finger by a Daoist Sect expert. There might have been some deeper meaning behind it, or there might not. In any case, the Daoist Sect saw little difference.
Their party's main task, however, concerned the cities along the Qingtang River in Guangchuan Continent. Their purpose was to urge officials at every level to build dikes and regulate the river channels. As for local internal affairs, those were merely matters attended to in passing, minor branches and twigs.
Two days later, they arrived at their next scheduled inspection stop-Liupan City.
It was called Liupan, the Six Bends, because several rivers converged there. Waterways crisscrossed the area, with six bends winding like snakes. The entire city was almost enclosed by rivers, making it a true city upon the water, with extremely complicated currents.
Daoist Chongling spent a considerable time arguing with Liupan's officials, great and small, matching wits and resolve, yet still failed to persuade them to build dikes to protect the city. Like Xiaosong and Jiyue, Hou Niao stood behind Chongling and heard with his own ears a debate between Daoist and secular authorities that he would never previously have dared imagine.
Prefect Huang was courteous on the surface, but his stance was firm. "Let me explain, Daoist Master. Liupan's waterways are unsuitable for dikes. There are too many branches, and the demands on labor would be unbearable. During the previous dynasty, Daoist masters also demanded that dikes be built. They were built one year and collapsed the next, exhausting the people and wasting money. That is a warning from the overturned cart ahead."
Chongling frowned. How did he have the time to concern himself with affairs of the previous dynasty? Decades ago, he had still been a minor cultivator wholly devoted to cultivating the Dao.
"Is it a shortage of funds? Liupan does indeed have many river bends and a complicated layout for dikes. We Daoists can seek some support from the imperial court on your behalf, but Liupan must certainly bear most of the cost. After all, this is a great virtuous undertaking that will benefit Liupan's people. Even when you are considered for promotion in the future, Prefect, it will count as a remarkable achievement."
Prefect Huang remained unmoved. "No! The difficulty of building dikes in Liupan lies not in accumulated wealth, but in the fierce river demons. These creatures hate humans building dikes more than anything, saying it affects their living environment. They stir up winds and waves over it. How could mortals like us withstand them?
"The Daoist Sect has only a limited force stationed here. Even protecting the city stretches them thin. How could they keep the river demons from ravaging the great river? Once the floods come, it is still the ordinary people who suffer. Thus, I believe that unless we first resolve the matter of river demons stirring up waves, there is no point discussing dikes to keep the people safe."
Anhe Kingdom was no paradise beyond the world. After the spiritual currents of heaven and earth began changing fifteen hundred years ago, they had brought humanity not only cultivation, but many more calamities as well. In a certain sense, those calamities seemed to have affected the world's living conditions more than cultivation had.
This involved the question of how different species adapted to the changes in the spiritual currents of heaven and earth. Unfortunately, animals acting on instinct had adapted to those changes faster than humans. Perhaps, after several thousand more years, humanity would hold an absolute advantage in this world, but not now.
Thus came demons, devils, ghosts, and monsters, competing with humans who had only just begun to cultivate for control of the world. Nor was this limited to Anhe Kingdom. Every human nation faced it, without exception.
Humans excelled at learning, and they would grow stronger with time. Monsters, however, found it easier and faster to get started, and could develop fighting strength more readily.
Demons were demonic beasts. Through instinct, wild beasts in remote mountains and vast marshes awakened the ancient bloodlines within them. They needed no cultivation methods, for they came with systems of their own. These were all gifts of their bloodlines, far quicker than the step-by-step progress humans made.
Anhe Kingdom was an inland country in the south, warm throughout the year. Its territory was small, but densely populated, with thriving commerce. There were essentially no remote mountains or ancient forests where mountain demons could breed. Yet Heaven was fair: after the age of cultivation arrived, no country could escape the tides of history.
There were no remote mountains, but there were great rivers. Fewer mountain demons meant more water monsters. It amounted to the same thing.
Whether mountain demons caused greater harm or water monsters wrought more misery was not something that could readily be compared. Every country had a broad approach to dealing with the monsters within its borders, and broad was all it could be. Humanity was not yet strong enough to resolve the problem completely. That would take time.
The Daoist Sect of Anhe Kingdom was no different. It had far, far too many troubles to face-not merely demons, but ghosts and devils as well!
...The moment the prefect said this, Daoist Chongling lost his confidence. He was only a Bridge Linking cultivator and had yet to reach the crucial Profound Connection stage, so he could neither fly through the sky nor part the waves beneath the water. If water demons dared come ashore, he had some confidence that he could contend with them, but diving into the river to negotiate or fight with its creatures was truly beyond a Daoist of his cultivation stage.
Words alone were no proof, so Chongling's party of four and the officials of the city's various offices climbed Liupan's western wall. This was also the stretch outside the city where the waters ran strongest. The Qingtang River rolled down in a roaring torrent, its surface shrouded in rising mist that obscured what lay within.
But Daoist Chongling's cultivation stage was what it was, and he could sense it directly. He knew that beneath the mist-shrouded surface, untold numbers of shrimp soldiers and crab generals were sharpening their blades, as though making a show of force before him!
Indeed:
Terraced towers rose, twisting aloft in midair; word spread that a Daoist's carriage and horses had come. Clear skies above the mountain, rain below; upright by the railing, he gazed into the watery haze!