The Legend of Panlong

Woling Pass, once an impregnable stronghold, was now under rebel control.

He Chunhua straightened his posture, his expression serious. "What can I do to assist?"

With such dire news from the heart of Yuan, the nation's fate hanging by a thread, even a commoner would feel compelled to act—how much more so a government official? To refuse now would be unconscionable.

As a servant replaced their tea, Sun Fuping took a sip and posed an ostensibly unrelated question: "Governor He, you've served in Qiansong County for many years. Do you know how the wilderness became the Panlong Desert and the origins of the Red Cliff Road?"

Why bring this up now? He Chunhua frowned slightly.

"This is local history," he began. "About 150 years ago, during the early days of Yuan, this land was part of the Xiluo Kingdom. Back then, what we now call the Panlong Desert was not a wasteland. It received less rainfall but still had forests and seasonal rivers.

"At its peak, Xiluo built four prefectures and twelve cities in the western territories, guarding a major east-west trade route. The largest city was Panlong City."

"Later, as Xiluo declined, it suffered repeated defeats in foreign wars. The neighboring states of Balin and Xianyou devoured its territory piece by piece. Only the Panlong Wilderness held firm, becoming an isolated enclave, cut off from the rest of Xiluo by a thousand miles."

He Lingchuan listened closely. The origins of the Panlong Desert were a well-known tale in Heishui City, one that the original owner of his body had heard many times.

"For 32 years, Balin and Xianyou laid siege to the Panlong Wilderness. Yet under the command of General Zhong Shengguang, the defenders of Panlong City resisted every attack, fighting for every inch of land," He Chunhua said before turning to his eldest son. "Lingchuan, do you remember the name of that army?"

"The Dafu Army!" He Lingchuan answered promptly. "As resilient as the tamarisk tree, steadfast but unrewarded, their loyalty and valor are legendary!"

The Dafu Army had been surrounded by two powerful enemies, isolated from their homeland, with scarce food and water, and no reinforcements from Xiluo.

And yet, they held their ground for 32 years.

It was a story worth hearing again and again.

"By the 12th year of the siege, Xianyou and Xiluo reached a brief truce. The Dafu Army seized the chance to send word back to their homeland. The Xiluo king, astonished that Panlong City still stood, issued commendations and recalled much of the Dafu Army's elite troops to suppress domestic unrest," He Lingchuan continued when his father paused. "But the truce didn't last. Xianyou soon resumed hostilities, cutting off Panlong Wilderness from the rest of Xiluo once more."

"Xiluo was then embroiled in continuous civil wars, leaving it powerless to send aid. Despite losing most of its elite forces, the Dafu Army held out for another 20 years," he said, his voice tinged with admiration.

Their resolve defied comprehension. Yet, their homeland's weakness had squandered their valor.

A country unworthy of its soldiers, He Lingchuan thought.

"Well said," Nian Songyu applauded lightly. "But how did the wilderness turn into a desert?"

"The Dafu Army fought to the death, refusing to surrender even when Panlong City fell. The besieging armies slaughtered the city's inhabitants in a rage, leaving no survivors. The fury and resentment of so many heroic souls scorched the heavens and seeped into the earth, cutting off life in a hundred-mile radius and altering the course of rivers. Over time, the wilderness became a desert."

"There's another version," He Lingchuan added. "It's said that General Zhong Shengguang, a powerful mystic, knew he couldn't hold the city. At the moment of its fall, he channeled the power of tens of thousands of heroic spirits to curse the land, turning it into a barren wasteland. This ensured that Xiluo couldn't keep the territory, but neither could Balin or Xianyou. To this day, the desert belongs to no nation."

"And?"

"Zhong Shengguang left one lifeline—the Red Cliff Road, the route the Dafu Army once used. It's said that's why the road remains navigable to this day," He Lingchuan said, glancing at Nian Songyu. "There are many more details. If you'd like, we can discuss them over a meal."

Sun Fuping turned to He Chunhua. "Is this consistent with what you know?"

"More or less," He Chunhua replied, sensing something amiss. "Why do you ask, Preceptor?"

Finally, Sun Fuping got to the point. "The Dafu Army's strength and Zhong Shengguang's brilliance are indisputable. But after the elites were recalled, how did the remaining troops manage to hold out for another 20 years? By then, Xianyou's armies were strong enough to sweep through most of Xiluo. Even Xiluo's renowned generals couldn't stop them."

He paused. "You and I both know that sheer willpower isn't enough to defy such overwhelming odds."

War is determined by strength. No matter how fervent the weak, defeat is their destiny.

The enemy had been extraordinarily powerful, particularly Xianyou, whose soldiers and generals were unmatched. They had launched over 300 assaults on Panlong City—15 in a single month at their peak.

How had the Dafu Army, with scant resources and no reinforcements, endured?

He Chunhua admitted, "The historical records are incomplete. There's no way to know for sure."

As stirring as the story was, it was over a century old. Few had the time or inclination to investigate further.

"Preceptor, what does the Panlong Desert's past have to do with our current predicament?" He Chunhua finally asked.

The time for storytelling was over.

Sun Fuping stepped forward, locking eyes with He Chunhua. "That's precisely my point. The secret of how the Dafu Army endured may also hold the key to reversing the situation at Woling Pass and saving the capital. Governor He, this is a responsibility you cannot shirk!"

He Chunhua's face grew solemn. "I am ready to hear the details."

He Lingchuan, however, felt that this was the moment the true motive was being revealed—and a heavy burden placed squarely on his father's shoulders.

Nian Songyu elaborated, "The Dafu Army's chief scribe, He Jian, served under Zhong Shengguang for many years but passed away shortly before the city fell. When Xianyou captured Panlong City, they found among his belongings a brief record of those years."

"The manuscript was eventually passed down, changing hands many times before it ended up in the Yuan imperial archives."

Unable to hold back, He Lingchuan asked, "So the truth has been in our hands all along. Why hasn't it been made public?"

Nian Songyu smiled. "Because it cannot be."

He explained, "The manuscript was severely damaged, with few complete sentences remaining. But one thing was clear…"

"… It recorded that the Dafu Army had access to a mysterious power," Nian Songyu continued, his tone turning grave. "Something beyond human capability."

He Lingchuan and He Chunhua both stiffened.

"A power?" He Chunhua pressed. "What kind of power could sustain them for so long against such overwhelming odds?"

Sun Fuping took over, his voice calm yet weighted with meaning. "The fragments of the manuscript mention a relic—something referred to as the 'Dragon Vein Seal'. It is said to be a mystical artifact tied to the land's lifeblood, capable of influencing natural forces and lending its wielder immense strength."

"The Dragon Vein Seal?" He Chunhua repeated, frowning.

"Yes," Sun Fuping confirmed. "It's unclear what exactly it is—an artifact, a spell, or even an entity. But it's mentioned as the source of the Dafu Army's endurance. Zhong Shengguang reportedly used it to protect his forces, manipulating the terrain and weather to his advantage, and perhaps even drawing on the spirits of his fallen soldiers to continue the fight."

Nian Songyu added, "When Xianyou took Panlong City, they searched relentlessly for this artifact but found nothing. It's believed that Zhong Shengguang hid or destroyed it before the city fell. And so, the mystery of the Dragon Vein Seal was buried with the sands of the Panlong Desert."

He Chunhua remained composed, though his mind raced. "And now, you believe this relic is the key to turning the tide at Woling Pass?"

Sun Fuping nodded. "The rebels have the numbers, the weapons, and the momentum. If we fight them conventionally, it will be impossible to retake the pass in time to save the capital. But with the Dragon Vein Seal—or its secrets—we may have a chance."

Nian Songyu leaned forward, his expression earnest. "Governor He, your jurisdiction is the closest to the Panlong Desert. You are uniquely positioned to aid in this search."

He Chunhua didn't hesitate. "If it means saving the nation, I will do everything in my power."

Sun Fuping's gaze softened slightly, though his tone remained firm. "Good. You will not act alone. We have been authorized by the court to lead this mission, but we require your support. Your knowledge of the region, your connections, and your resources will be indispensable."

He Lingchuan interjected, "If this artifact is as powerful as you say, won't others be searching for it as well?"

Sun Fuping glanced at him, his sharp eyes glinting. "That's why time is of the essence. If the rebels, or worse, the forces of Xianyou or Balin, catch wind of this, the consequences could be catastrophic."

Nian Songyu smiled faintly. "So, Young Master He, are you prepared for a journey into the sands?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with implication.

He Lingchuan felt a chill run down his spine. He had expected trouble, but not this. He glanced at his father, whose expression remained unreadable.

He Chunhua finally spoke, his voice steady. "The He family stands ready to serve."

Sun Fuping smiled faintly. "Good. Then let us prepare. The sands of Panlong await."