Chapter 7: I Can’t Die Like This

On the seventh day, the convoy entered the Huainan region.

When Lin Yuan looked down from his horse, he almost thought he had taken a wrong turn.

On either side of the official road, vast stretches of farmland were flooded, with only a few scattered, withered yellow rice stubble poking above the water. In the distance, villages were half-collapsed, several earthen-walled houses looking as if they had been torn apart by hand, revealing dark, hollow cavities inside.

A group of disaster victims huddled by the roadside, men, women, old and young, all crammed together under a single tarpaulin. An old man sat in the mud, holding a child who was so emaciated it had lost its shape. His eyes were clouded, staring motionlessly at the passing relief convoy.

The child's arms were absurdly thin, fingers curled, fingernails a bluish-gray.

Lin Yuan reined in his horse and watched for a long while.

Fang De's carriage passed by him. A corner of the curtain was lifted, revealing that smiling face.

"Why has Master Lin stopped? We must make haste."

Lin Yuan didn't answer.

After advancing another two li, the number of disaster victims grew. Some sat by the roadside, some lay there, and a few women knelt on the ground, kowtowing to the passing soldiers.

A young woman holding an infant rushed forward, shouting something, only to be pushed back by Huo Qing's soldiers.

The infant in her arms wasn't crying.

Lin Yuan later realized that the infant wasn't not crying; it simply didn't have the strength left to cry.

Liu Fang rode at the front, not even glancing toward the roadside. He was talking with his attendants about which post station they would stay at tonight and whether there would be hot water for soaking feet. His voice was neither loud nor soft, just audible enough for the few people behind him to hear.

The curtain of Fang De's carriage had already been lowered. The sound of abacus beads clicking came from inside.

Huo Qing did slow down a little as he rode past the group of victims, but only for a moment before he picked up speed again.

He was here to escort the silver, not to save people.

The convoy pressed on, leaving the disaster victims far behind.

Lin Yuan looked back.

The woman holding the infant was still kneeling in the same spot, too exhausted to chase after them anymore.

He tightened his grip on the reins, his palms burning hot.

In the days since his transmigration, he had always thought his goal was clear: to die on the path of serving the nation and its people, then ascend to immortality. A clean, neat transaction.

Defying Zhao Chong in court? He wasn't afraid.

Coming to Huainan to investigate the accounts? He wasn't afraid either.

Because from start to finish, he never intended to return alive.

But now, looking at these people, his heart felt heavy, choked.

That evening, after the camp was set up, Lin Yuan didn't go to eat. He sat alone in his tent.

He silently called out in his mind.

"System."

A translucent panel flickered into existence.

"What is the host's query?"

"I have a question for you."

"Please proceed."

"After I die and ascend to immortality, will I become an immortal in this world, or will I go somewhere else?"

The system paused for a moment.

"After the host completes the mission, they will directly ascend to the upper realm, leaving this world behind. They will not remain in this world for even an instant."

Lin Yuan was stunned.

"Say that again?"

"After the host completes the mission, they will directly ascend to the upper realm, leaving this world behind. They will not remain in this world for even an instant."

He sat there for a long time without moving.

Not remain in this world for even an instant.

That meant once he died, he would ascend and leave immediately. This world would have nothing more to do with him. The disaster victims here in Huainan would have nothing to do with him.

The things he saw while alive—what would happen to them after he died?

Would Fang De continue to embezzle silver? Would Zhao Chong continue to sell official positions?

And those victims kneeling by the roadside, so thin they were nothing but skin and bones?

If he was gone, who would care for them?

"No."

Lin Yuan stood up and paced a couple of circles inside the tent.

His original plan was to find an opportunity to uncover some evidence, use it to spectacularly offend a group of people, get himself killed, achieve perfect merit, and directly become an immortal.

But what if he left the moment he died?

What if the things he uncovered in Huainan had no one to take over? What if the holes he exposed had no one to plug them?

Then what would this trip to Huainan amount to? Putting on a lively show, then patting his backside and leaving?

Those disaster victims didn't need a lively show. They needed food and silver that could actually reach their hands.

Lin Yuan sat back down.

"System."

"Present."

"Recite the criteria for 'serving the nation and its people' for me."

"Abandon personal gain, uphold public-mindedness, use one's power to protect the nation's greater interests, safeguard the survival and dignity of the common people, and fulfill one's duties with integrity, fairness, incorruptibility, and love for the people."

Safeguard the survival and dignity of the common people.

If he died, who would safeguard the people's survival?

Even if he uncovered problems in the accounts and submitted the evidence, then what? He'd be gone. Zhao Chong and his ilk could suppress the evidence, and it would all be for nothing.

"Ascending to immortality is good, but I can't die like this."

Saying the words out loud actually made him feel more settled.

It wasn't that he wouldn't die. It was that he couldn't die at a meaningless point.

At the very least, he had to finish dealing with this mess in Huainan. The silver had to reach the victims' hands. The holes in the relief funds had to be exposed. The heads that deserved to roll had to roll.

Once all that was done, then he could die. It wouldn't be too late then.

Outside the tent came the sound of steady, powerful footsteps, barely making any extra noise on the muddy ground.

Huo Qing's voice sounded from outside the tent flap.

"Inspector Lin."

"Captain Huo, come in."

Huo Qing lifted the flap and entered, a focused, restrained energy flowing in with him, like a sheathed blade. He stood in the center of the tent, his gaze sweeping over the cramped space.

"Have you been recording something these past few days?"

Lin Yuan didn't deny it. "Yes."

"About Fang De?"

"You know?"

Huo Qing was silent for a few breaths. "I'm responsible for the escort. I was present during the silver chest handover. I saw the issue with the seals."

"You saw, and you did nothing?"

"Do what?" Huo Qing's tone was cool. "My duty is to deliver the silver safely to Huainan, without loss or theft along the way. What's inside the chests is the Ministry of Revenue's business."

Lin Yuan looked at him.

"Then why did you come to me today?"

Huo Qing didn't answer immediately. He walked to the tent entrance, looked outside to confirm no one was around, then turned back.

"Those disaster victims on the road today, you saw them?"

"I saw them."

"One of my old soldiers, been with me a long time, his hometown is here in Huainan. He said his entire family was lost in this great flood. His parents and a younger sister."

Lin Yuan said nothing.

"He asked me for leave a couple of days ago, wanted to go back to his hometown to see. I didn't approve it." Huo Qing's voice was flat, matter-of-fact. "Because if I approved, he wouldn't come back. He'd go cause trouble for the local officials, and then get himself killed."

"So?"

"So I want to ask you something." Huo Qing looked at him, his gaze growing heavier. "The things you're recording... will they actually be of any use in the end?"

Lin Yuan thought about it.

"I don't know. But I'll find a way to make them useful."

Huo Qing stared at him for several seconds, as if weighing the substance of those words.

After a long while, he gave a slight nod.

"When you need men, come find me."

With that, he left.

Lin Yuan sat alone in the tent, listening to the chirping of insects outside and the laughter coming from Fang De's tent in the distance.

The laughter was loud, clearly audible even through several tents, faintly mixed with the clinking of wine cups.

The silver hadn't yet reached the victims' hands, but the wine for celebrating the relief efforts was already being drunk.

He took out his small notebook, flipped through the records from the past few days again, then wrote a line in the blank space.

"No rush to die. Handle the business first."

After writing, he closed the booklet and blew out the oil lamp.

The wind outside the tent carried moisture, damp and heavy. Autumn in Huainan wasn't as crisp as in Chang'an. The air was full of dampness and the smell of mud.

Lin Yuan lay down and closed his eyes.

He remembered the woman holding the infant by the roadside during the day.

The way she knelt in the mud... he probably wouldn't forget it for the rest of his life.