Chapter 136: The River God

(New week, seeking a few free recommendation votes!)

The breeze was gentle today. The water of the Jian River was much calmer than usual, flowing with a steady, bubbling murmur, unusually free of its typical roaring surges. Reeds grew thick along the riverbank, and Chen Jianchen sat fishing atop a large boulder nestled among them.

He was neither an idle man nor a refined scholar; he had specifically taken leave to come here simply to clear his mind. The Jian River was rich in aquatic life, and if he could catch a fish or two to take back for dinner, that would be a pleasant bonus.

However, Chen Jianchen had been fishing for nearly an hour. The float bobbed with the current, never sinking even a fraction; not a single fish had come to bite.

Was his spot poorly chosen? Or perhaps the bait was unappealing and lacked attraction?

Chen Jianchen felt quite puzzled, especially when he saw the dark, thin man not far to his side hauling up a lively, plump fish every little while. He felt even more speechless.

There were many people fishing along the banks of the Jian River, with anglers stationed at intervals. Yet, among the crowd, no one could compare to that dark, thin man.

The man was about thirty years old, short of stature, and dressed in coarse cloth garments. Beside him sat a large bamboo creel. Every so often, a large fish would take his hook, which he would promptly toss into the creel. Before long, it was already more than half full.

Fishing is a technical craft; the location, hook, bait, and technique all involve significant nuance. Chen Jianchen had assumed the man was a master, which explained the bountiful harvest. But after observing him closely, he felt the man was nothing special—there was nothing exceptional about his technique. Instead, the man spent his time drinking from a purplish-black gourd, taking a sip, then pouring a bit into the river, his lips constantly moving as if he were muttering to himself.

This act of pouring wine into the river was unusual. Chen Jianchen frowned, curiosity piqued. Since he had no activity on his own line, he walked over, cupped his hands in a polite salute, and said, "Greetings, brother."

Seeing that Chen Jianchen was refined and wore a scholar's cap, the man knew he was an intellectual. He quickly set down his rod and said bashfully, "Greetings, young master."

Chen Jianchen smiled slightly and asked, "There is no need for such formality, brother. I see your harvest is bountiful and the fish are very keen on your hook, so I came to ask: is your bait some kind of special preparation?"

The secret to attracting fish lies in the bait.

The man rubbed his hands together and replied, "It's nothing special, just ordinary earthworms."

As he spoke, he lifted his hook to show Chen Jianchen. Unexpectedly, just as the hook rose from the water, a large fish leaped out, as if chasing after it to take the bait.

That works too?

Chen Jianchen's eyes widened. A strange thought surfaced, and he asked, "I saw you pouring wine into the river earlier; are you using alcohol to attract the fish?"

The man seemed like a simple, honest fellow who didn't know how to lie. He scratched his head and said, "No, I'm pouring wine for the River God. He likes my wine very much, so he appeared in my dreams and asked me to bring him a gourd every day. In return, he drives the fish into schools to bite my hook."

In the Tiantong Dynasty, the common folk were generally superstitious. Offering sacrifices to the Earth God on the first and fifteenth of the lunar month was essential. People often went to the mountains to worship the Mountain God or to the river to worship the River God. In the city, the City God Temple was always crowded with believers, its incense burning bright and thick.

Chen Jianchen had long understood the existence of Earth Gods, Mountain Gods, and City Gods; they were essentially minor deities appointed by the Underworld to govern specific regions and collect incense offerings.

Earth Gods, Mountain Gods, and River Gods were base-level officials under the jurisdiction of the City God. The City God was a regional official who answered directly to the Underworld.

Chen Jianchen had previously gained some insight into the power structure of the Underworld through the confession of the Jingyang Village Earth God, but he lacked knowledge of core secrets—such as the specific purpose of the incense collected or how the souls of the deceased were managed after entering the Underworld.

These were topics that interested Chen Jianchen, but he lacked the means to investigate. To learn more, he would likely need to speak with the Jiangzhou City God. However, due to past conflicts, he and the City God were on bad terms, making conversation impossible. Furthermore, the Underworld was a separate realm, and Chen Jianchen had no path or method to enter it.

Hearing the man's words, he immediately understood that the fellow had established a connection with the Jian River God. The deity was fond of wine, even going so far as to visit the man in a dream to demand offerings, then using his divine power to facilitate the fishing.

Was this not an abuse of power for personal gain?

Still, the River God was decent enough; having enjoyed the wine, he knew to repay the favor by driving the fish to the hook.

Chen Jianchen raised an eyebrow. "Where do you buy your wine, brother?"

The man gave a bashful smile. "I brew it myself."

Chen Jianchen uttered an "oh," said no more, and with a small smile, returned to his rock. He waited in boredom, and when he grew tired of it, he simply took a scroll from his blood-sandalwood book box to read.

About an hour later, the dark, thin man's creel was full and his gourd was empty. He packed up his rod, gave Chen Jianchen a smile, and strode away.

Chen Jianchen's float still showed no movement; the bait was likely soaked to the point of being flavorless. With a curl of his lip, he prepared to pack his rod and return to the academy.

*Boom!*

Suddenly, a strange sound erupted from the river. A wave rose several yards away, churning and surging toward him with incredible speed. Its target was directly at where Chen Jianchen sat—or more accurately, if the wave didn't deviate, it would crash straight into the blood-sandalwood book box beside him.

The wave was vicious and unnatural, as if directed by someone in the shadows. In the blink of an eye, it roared up the bank, lunging forward.

"Not good!"

Chen Jianchen's reaction was swift, but the attack was too sudden. It took only a few breaths from the wave's formation to its arrival on the shore; he had no time to grab the box and jump off the rock.

*Crash!*

The wave surged, scattering in mid-air and faintly forming the shape of a massive palm. The palm spread out and viciously slammed down toward the blood-sandalwood book box, as if trying to snatch it and drag it into the river.

*Puff!*

At the critical moment, the blood-sandalwood book box—which had its true appearance masked by the spells of Elder Huangfu—remained unmoved. A circle of red light suddenly erupted, enveloping it like a protective shield. The wave crashed down, but before it could touch the box, it was blocked by an invisible force, unable to advance further.

The collision produced a tremendous sound. The wave, as if having struck a stone wall, was shattered by the recoil, scattering into a spray of water. Fortunately, Chen Jianchen had reacted quickly and moved to the side, avoiding being soaked.

Everything around was wet, but the area on the rock where the blood-sandalwood book box sat remained completely dry.

"Impervious to insects, water, and fire, impenetrable by blade or spear..." The blood-sandalwood book box was an auxiliary magical artifact, not a common object; it even warded off wind and dust. The wave had targeted the box, only to be neutralized by its inherent defenses.

Chen Jianchen's heart stirred. He stepped forward to shoulder the box and set up the canopy. He did not leave immediately, instead climbing back onto the rock to gaze at the now-calm river. He sneered to himself: *The River God? You have your eyes on my box, do you?*

He stood for a long time, but the river remained still, with no further anomalies.

Chen Jianchen leaped off the rock, headed out, and turned onto the main road, preparing to return to Jiangzhou City.

*Giddyap!*

On the road, the urgent sound of hooves suddenly echoed. Looking back, he saw a rider galloping toward him.

The horse was a fine steed. The rider was a sturdy man dressed in blue scale armor with silk trim, wearing a burnished bronze helmet. His back was bristling with weapons arranged in a fan shape—all of them gleaming, lightweight saber blades that emitted a cold, sharp light.

The rider was over thirty with thick mustaches on his upper lip. From a distance, he looked somewhat like "Four-Eyebrows Lu Xiaofeng." His phoenix eyes were sharp and piercing, carrying an air of authority. Looking closer, besides the six sabers on his back, he carried a long, precious sword at his waist.

Anyone who dared to carry such an arsenal openly had to be an official. The Tiantong Dynasty had strict controls on weaponry; ordinary citizens could only possess limited iron tools like kitchen knives or hoes, and even firewood axes were rare. Commoners would never dare to carry long blades or swords; if caught by bailiffs, they could be charged with "plotting rebellion"—and executed on the spot.

"Whoa!"

Upon reaching him, the rider suddenly reined in his horse and asked Chen Jianchen, "Young master, may I ask the way to Maple Mountain?"

Chen Jianchen paused, looked at him, and said, "If you wish to go to Maple Mountain, you can head south along this road. Turn north before reaching Jiangzhou; there will be signposts at the post stations along the way."

"Oh, thanks."

The rider flicked his whip, and the horse galloped away, leaving a trail of dust.

Chen Jianchen narrowed his eyes, thoughtful. The rider was clearly not from Jiangzhou. Judging by his direction, he had likely come from the north, crossing the Jian River by boat. He knew there was a large ferry crossing not far from this stretch of the river.

A rider from the north, fully armed, imposing and flamboyant, heading straight for Maple Mountain instead of Jiangzhou—could he be an investigator sent by the imperial court regarding that incident? As for why it was a warrior rather than a monk, it was likely because the monks who had been propagating dharma in Jiangzhou were all involved in the death of Wu Wencai and were being held accountable.

After all, the deceased was the only son of the current Minister of Rites. Even if the death were attributed to a monster, Commander Zhou and Master Liaokong, who were present at the time, would have to bear some responsibility and face punishment.

As for this lone-wolf-looking rider heading to Maple Mountain, he likely couldn't trouble Yingning and Xiaoyi, who were already on guard. Chen Jianchen had already made things clear in his letters to Yingning; she was clever enough to have countermeasures in place.

Thinking this, he quickened his pace back to the city.