[To Become a River of Stars] Dong Xiange - Chapter 29
Right up until the moment they stood before the embankment, Shiliu had assumed that the “inanimate object” he referred to would be the magistrate’s severed head, rolling across the ground.
She thought to herself, The Jade-Faced King of Hell truly lives up to his name. Now he not only kills people but can even interrogate their heads afterward. Part of her was terrified, but another part was thrilled—she was eager to witness such a spectacle.
As it turned out, the “inanimate object” Li Xuanci meant was the river embankment.
He stepped onto the top of the levee first, bending down to inspect the stonework. He nudged a gap with the tip of his boot, then ground the loose debris under his heel, raising an eyebrow.
Shiliu followed behind, somewhat puzzled. When she finally caught up, she saw him silently raising his eyebrow again. She mimicked him, carefully examining the embankment stones.
The sight made her dizzy. She couldn’t understand what was so interesting about these square, heavy, blunt stones.
Shiliu craned her neck, a few soft strands of baby hair sticking up foolishly on her forehead. The spring sunlight fell on her, making her look pale and soft, her recently plumped-up cheeks tender and supple.
Li Xuanci glanced at her, and something stirred in his heart, as if gently brushed by the tender antlers of a fawn.
Then he noticed the Adam’s apple on Shiliu’s slender neck, shuddered, and forced himself to change his train of thought.
So effeminate.
Instead, he mocked her even more sharply, “What’s that blockhead of yours doing here, trying to act smart?”
Shiliu felt indignant but couldn’t actually see what he was referring to. She could only move her lips uselessly, like a crab blowing bubbles onshore, unable to articulate anything.
After a long while, Li Xuanci finally heard the stubborn, cold-faced little Taoist lower her head and mumble softly, “Then since you’re so smart, can’t you just tell me?”
Since childhood, he had been surrounded by extreme privilege. The flattery he received was thicker than syrup, yet his status was also precarious, with many hidden arrows aimed at him. No matter what others said, he had never cared, finding it all nothing but noise.
But on this spring day, a detestable and foolish little Taoist, in her humble black boots, kicked the small stones on the embankment one by one, lowered her head, and softly said he was “so smart.”
Li Xuanci cleared his throat, suppressing the strange feeling, and began discussing the matter at hand.
“To judge whether an embankment was built with care, you must look at the gaps,” he said seriously. Then, unable to resist, he added, “A half-baked Taoist who’s lived on a mountain since childhood naturally wouldn’t know how to inspect it.”
Shiliu’s round eyes lifted to stare at him, and Li Xuanci unconsciously changed the subject. “It’s a tradition passed down since the Qin Dynasty: wooden stakes as the foundation, stone blocks stacked on top.”
“To judge the care taken, first, see if the stone dowels at the joints fit properly. Second, check if the lime and glutinous rice paste used for sealing are sufficient. Third, see if anti-termite treatments are regularly applied.”
He spoke as if it were common knowledge, yet every point was precise. Shiliu’s eyes widened slightly, and she couldn’t help but reassess him. Li Xuanci truly isn’t what the rumours say. He’s well-versed in river management—he’s anything but simple.
Now that she knew what to look for, she examined the embankment more purposefully.
“The stone dowels fit perfectly, and the seams are tightly sealed. It must have been built regardless of cost, with thick rice paste poured generously. As for termites…” Shiliu hesitated here.
“Just check if there are no fine cracks or holes along the embankment. That means the insect infestation isn’t severe,” Li Xuanci finished for her.
“The county records mention that this embankment was repaired five years ago,” Shiliu mused thoughtfully.
“Five years ago, the current magistrate, Cao Ruming, had just taken office. Later, the reinforcements for several summers were also overseen by him. It seems he was, at the very least, diligent in his duties.”
Even such an effort only earned a “at the very least” from him.
“A local official who was dutiful and well-versed in flood control methods has, in just five years, become a heartless man who snatches children for sacrifices,” Shiliu pondered.
“Not five years. It happened suddenly, recently,” Li Xuanci corrected, glancing at her.
“Why?” Shiliu asked, wide-eyed.
“Anti-termite treatments must be applied regularly and timely. Lately, there’s been frequent drizzle, yet no termites have appeared. Based on weather patterns, the insect-repelling treatment must have been reapplied at least a month ago,” Li Xuanci explained in detail, taking pity on her foolishly wide-eyed expression.
“Such a pragmatic and shrewd person suddenly having a drastic change in character…” Shiliu said hesitantly.
“Most likely, someone found his weakness, deceived him, and turned him into a pawn for their schemes,” Li Xuanci concluded, then added with a sidelong glance, “Probably duped by a wicked Taoist.”
Shiliu refused to accept this slander against the noble Taoist tradition and protested, “You’re just guessing! How can you say that so confidently?”
“Those who turn to spirits and evil arts are mostly facing disaster themselves or involving someone close. They panic and are easily deceived. And those deceivers are usually either Taoists or monks,” he said idly, watching the few strands of hair standing on end on Shiliu’s head.
“Then it must be monks! Definitely wicked monks!” Shiliu immediately shifted the blame. Better them than us—sorry, not sorry.
Li Xuanci found it somewhat amusing but couldn’t be bothered to engage further. He turned and walked down the embankment.
“Where are we going?” Shiliu asked, chasing after him.
“The trouble lies within. Now that we know the cause, we just need to wait and watch the show,” Li Xuanci said, a faint, murderous smile curling his lips.