Yin Wujou and A Yao exchanged a glance. Forty years ago, the Spirit Vein Bureau was beginning to decline. At that time, the Snow Empress had not yet taken over, and the previous director was still struggling to keep it afloat. The gray-robed gentleman the old man mentioned might be some deceased old deacon.
"Old man," Yin Wujou put down his teacup, "Do you know if there were any springs in that area east of the Hetao before?"
"A spring?" The old man thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Never heard of it. That area is very dry. When I was a child, I went there with the adults to chop firewood, and we couldn't find a well even after walking for half a day. But..." He suddenly stopped.
"But what?"
"However, one year, when I was about ten years old, there was a huge rainstorm. It rained for three days and three nights, washing mud down from the mountain. After the rain stopped, someone said that a stream of water had appeared on the eastern slope and flowed for half a month before stopping. It never appeared again."
A Yao's breathing quickened noticeably. She lowered her head and flipped through the book, her finger pausing at the location of the third spring. Yin Wujou saw her lips move slightly, silently reciting the label in the book—"Ancient spring, long abandoned."
"After that rainstorm, did anyone go and dig up that stream?" Yin Wujou asked.
The old man shook his head. "Nobody went. Everyone was poor back then, busy farming and paying rent. Who had time to care about that? Besides, the water came and went strangely, and everyone thought it was unlucky, so even fewer people went."
Yin Wujou didn't ask any more questions. The two sat in the teahouse for a while longer, waiting until the sun was setting before continuing their journey. In the evening, they arrived at their first post station. The post station was small, consisting of only a few earthen houses and several post horses tethered in the courtyard. Yin Wujou showed the bronze plaque to the postmaster, a short, stout man in his forties, who immediately became enthusiastic upon seeing the plaque.
"Sir, from the Spirit Vein Bureau!" He rubbed his hands together, his face crinkling with smiles. "A rare guest indeed. We haven't seen anyone from the Spirit Vein Bureau here for over a decade. Please come in, I'll have someone prepare two rooms for you."
Dinner was prepared by the inn's cook; though simple, the portions were generous. After finishing her meal, A Yao went back to her room to organize her catalog, while Yin Wujou stayed in the front hall to chat with the innkeeper. He intentionally steered the conversation toward the geological formations east of the Hetao. Although the innkeeper didn't understand these things, he had heard many rumors about them from his years of welcoming and seeing off guests at the inn.
"That area to the east," the postmaster poured Yin Wujou a bowl of coarse tea, "I've heard some passing merchants mention it. Some say they can hear the sound of water at night, but there's nothing there during the day. Others say they've seen a place where the grass is greener than elsewhere, and it doesn't wither even in winter."
Has anyone gone to look for it?
"Yes," the postmaster lowered his voice, "Two years ago, a salt merchant heard that there might be groundwater in that area and wanted to dig a well to extract brine. He took more than a dozen people to dig, but after digging for half a month, he found nothing and left in disgrace. However..." He hesitated for a moment, "... as he left, he said something like, 'There's something down there, but it's not water.'"
Yin Wujou paused slightly in his grip on the teacup. "What did he say?"
"That was all. He never came back. I heard he lost money in business and went back to the south."
Yin Wujou didn't press the matter further. He sat in the front hall and drank another bowl of tea, gazing at the darkening sky outside. The few post horses in the inn's courtyard stood quietly in the twilight, occasionally flicking their tails. The distant mountain ridges appeared a deep, Mo Lan in the last rays of light, like a crouching giant beast.
The next morning, they continued their journey. For the next few days, their daily itinerary was largely the same—early mornings on the move, midday rests by the roadside, and evenings at inns. A Yao gradually adapted to life on horseback and was no longer as nervous as on the first day. She began to actively discuss the details in the map with Yin Wujou along the way, and sometimes even took out paper and pen to draw the terrain she observed.
On the evening of the fifth day, they arrived at the town where the Hetao Military Command was located. It was a much larger town than the post station, with many shops on the street and bustling with people. Yin Wujou found the Military Command and handed in the letter from the Snow Empress. Soon after, a clerk came out and led them into a side hall, where the Deputy Commander of the Military Command personally met with them.
The magistrate, surnamed Zhao, was a military officer in his early forties, with a square face and very polite manner. After reading the letter, he folded it up and put it back on the table, asking, "Are you two from the Spirit Vein Bureau?"
"Yes." Yin Wujou nodded.
Assistant Prefect Zhao's gaze swept over them, as if confirming something. Then he sighed, "I've heard some things about the Spirit Vein Bureau. Back then, it was thanks to the Spirit Vein Bureau that the locations for our Hetao were determined. Later, the Spirit Vein Bureau disbanded, and much of the farmland was abandoned. You've come this time because..."
"Let's examine the earth's veins," Yin Wujou said. "The earth's veins east of the Hetao have changed in recent years; we need to investigate on-site."
Assistant Prefect Zhao's eyes lit up. "Alright. Just tell me what you need—people, horses, guides—I can arrange it all."
"We don't need a guide," Yin Wujou said. "We'd like to go and see for ourselves first."
Assistant Prefect Zhao did not force him. He issued Yin Wujou a travel permit and had a clerk prepare a simple map of the area east of the Hetao. The map was roughly drawn, but it had more markings of villages and roads than the map in A Yao's hand, so they could complement each other.
It was already dark when they left the military headquarters. The two found an inn to stay in. A Yao spread the two maps on the table and carefully compared them by the light of an oil lamp, studying until late at night. Yin Wujou sat by the window, gazing at the lights of the town outside, planning his route for tomorrow.
"Brother Yin," A Yao suddenly called out to him.
"Um?"
"Look here," A Yao pointed to a spot on the map, "the third spring my father marked is here. But on the map Assistant Prefect Zhao gave me, this location doesn't have a name; it's just marked 'abandoned canal.'"
Yin Wujou leaned closer to look. The abandoned canal was located right on the marked point of the third spring, the two marks almost overlapping. He thought for a moment and asked, "When was the abandoned canal abandoned?"
"It's not in my father's atlas." A Yao turned to the page with the third spring. "The record on this page only says 'Ancient Spring, Long Abandoned,' and there are no further annotations. But the word 'abandoned canal'..." She tapped the table lightly with her finger, "Meaning that someone once built a water conservancy project here, and then it was abandoned. When they built the water conservancy project, it must have been aimed at the water."
Yin Wujou understood what she meant. "You mean, that ancient spring might have once flowed, but was later blocked off by someone?"
"Possibly." A Yao's eyes shone brightly under the oil lamp. "The people who built the canal discovered the spring and wanted to divert water to irrigate the fields, but later abandoned it for some reason. The canal was abandoned, and the spring was blocked up again."