As Master Hu Chan spoke, a complex expression crossed his face.
It was a mix of the calm resolve of a Righteous Cultivator fighting for a "great cause," and the solemn dread of the shocking plot behind it.
"They want to… tear this land apart to find the Imperial Soldiers that may be buried here!"
He clapped Qi Yun on the shoulder, his voice a mixture of resignation and a barely perceptible excitement. "And we're… participants… in this earth-shattering treasure hunt."
The mountain wind whistled through the pass, carrying the faint sound of gongs and drums from the distant army camp.
Qi Yun fell silent, his fingertips unconsciously caressing the smooth, warm surface of his gourd.
'Imperial Soldiers… the legacy of the Golden Tang Dynasty… Nanyin's true motive for their northern expedition…'
'So that's it.'
All the anomalies, all the contradictions, seemed to be connected by a faint, dark thread at this moment.
