Chapter 46: Preparing to Leave and Facing the Blow

But the northern region, being close to the capital, is the first to be locked down and is the most heavily guarded.

After careful consideration, the two of them decided to head south, to the place where the Song family had once opened an embroidery workshop.

Jiangnan is just a general term; the actual location is Zhaozhou Prefecture.

And after leaving Qizhou, it would take more than another month to reach Zhaozhou.

If it were the modern world with advanced transportation, this distance would take only a day or two at most.

But here, with high mountains and long roads, it would take nearly three months to walk.

Song Yeqing wished she could just carry the two brothers in her space, which would be much safer and more convenient—but unfortunately, she couldn’t.

So they had to prepare to travel a long distance with two children.

Because Song Yeqing had plenty of experience in this area, she was responsible for planning the route and preparing the necessary items for the journey.

He Yanxin, on the other hand, was in charge of going out to make purchases, gather information, and handle potential issues.

In the Main Room

Song Yeqing laid out a hand-drawn map on the table and took out paper and pen.

In the Da’an Kingdom, ordinary people wanting to get a map? That would require stealing one from the capital—if they didn’t want to be accused of espionage.

So, after He Yanxin had searched all over and confirmed that commoners really had no access to maps, he pieced together this rather rough map from memory.

“Have you decided when you’re going to tell Aunt and the others?” Song Yeqing asked as she looked down, sketching on the paper, when He Yanxin walked in.

“Tonight.”

He hadn’t expected the Wu family to actually divide their household this time. Honestly, it was a relief.

After all, with his memories from his past life, he had absolutely no desire to travel with Wu Erlang and his wife.

Right now, the situation was—if he argued with them, it would be hard to separate issues from this life and the past one.

But if he didn’t argue, he felt stifled.

After all, he came from a law-abiding, peaceful society and really couldn’t bring himself to seek extreme revenge.

So it was a good thing the Wu family had split up. When he went to persuade them to leave tonight, he would have to be firm. He had no intention of letting that couple tag along.

Everyone should go their separate ways. He knew that Aunt Li had some silver saved up—they wouldn’t starve even if they parted ways.

Moreover, the people who killed them in the previous life had already been arrested.

Helping them avoid the same fate as before was already him going above and beyond.

From now on, whether they lived or died would be up to them. After all, it was they who had voluntarily left everyone behind back then, wasn’t it?

During his visit to the county magistrate, He Yanxin had specifically mentioned the three mountain bandits.

Yesterday, while gathering information in town, he found out that those people had been caught. Turned out, it wasn’t just three—there were four.

He also discovered that there were already rumors beginning to circulate about Prince Qi planning a rebellion. The truth was murky, sources unclear.

He Yanxin understood—this meant the magistrate was starting to take action.

After returning from town, he shared the news with Song Yeqing.

She said only one thing: “We can’t delay any longer.”

And they couldn’t.

Before there had been any movement from the magistrate, He Yanxin had been torn—should he spread the news about the coming rebellion to help others avoid disaster?

But he worried that doing so might alarm Prince Qi and cause the checkpoints to be locked down early. Then they wouldn’t be able to escape either.

Would it be worth risking their own lives for unrelated people?

There was no clear answer. He only knew that, having reincarnated into the original host, he had to take care of the host’s family and live on in his place.

Life itself is the heaviest burden to bear.

He Yanxin had come to realize deeply that he was just an incredibly ordinary person. Even with his memories of a past life—his so-called “cheat”—he couldn’t play the role of a savior.

This hit him hard, and for the past few days, he’d looked visibly gloomy and lacked energy.

“Do what you can with the power you have,” Song Yeqing finally said after a long pause.

That was also a saying passed down in the Song family, repeatedly drilled into the younger generation.

A first-rank Taoist trying to fight a ninth-rank ghost? That wasn’t bravery—that was foolishness.

Though they had only known each other for less than ten days, Song Yeqing could sense that he was a soft-hearted person. Or perhaps, he was kind and had a strong moral baseline.

Born in a peaceful era, people like him who hadn’t seen much darkness often couldn’t bear to see others suffer—and suffered because they couldn’t save them.

That’s why he felt so conflicted and depressed about not being able to help everyone avoid danger.

He often muttered that if only he’d been reborn as the emperor, then with such power, he could stop Prince Qi’s rebellion.

But Song Yeqing was different.

She had faced life and death too many times and heard too many stories of ghosts and the tragedies behind them. Because of this, she always suspected the worst in human nature.

Most of those lingering spirits had unresolved grievances, regrets, or attachments.

As for the reasons they were harmed? Too many: money, hatred, lust, power…

When people turned evil, the reasons were endless—there was nothing they wouldn’t do.

At first, when she started exorcising ghosts, she would listen, try to understand, and even attempt to resolve their issues and deliver justice.

But after witnessing too much darkness, she rarely got involved anymore. Right and wrong? Let the underworld decide.

It wasn’t that she had completely lost faith in humanity—but she wouldn’t make great sacrifices for others. She would only do what she could.

It seemed that many cultivators of the mystical arts were like that. They trained, dealt with the divine, were respected by the common folk, seen as aloof—forgetting that they too were just people, not gods.

When He Yanxin heard her words and merely smiled at her weakly, still unable to muster much spirit, Song Yeqing lowered her head and squeezed the pen in her hand hard.

Tsk. Annoying.

“He Yanxin, let me show you something.”

Since they met, apart from in front of others, Song Yeqing had always called him by name.

He had once tried to get her to call him “brother,” but ultimately failed.

He still remembered that day, after they had just finished practicing. Half-jokingly, he said that since he was older than her, it didn’t seem appropriate for her to always call him by his full name. Why not just call him “brother”?

Song Yeqing had just finished her training, cheeks flushed, covered in sweat. When she heard that, she gave him a sideways glance and said lightly, “I haven’t even asked you to call me ‘Master’ yet.”

Then she walked away, leaving He Yanxin standing there, laughing uncontrollably—so much so that Song Yeqing turned around with a confused look.

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing. Take care, Master…” He Yanxin waved at her.

She would probably never know how adorable she looked in that moment in his eyes.

Though her face still lacked much expression, her eyes were full of mischief and pride when she tried to counter him by calling herself “Master.” If she had a tail, he was sure it would’ve been wagging furiously behind her.

This little stick-in-the-mud is actually kind of fun, He Yanxin thought to himself.

(End of Chapter)