He Lingchuan only had to shift his gaze, without uttering a single word, for a sweet golden-thread jujube to be held to his lips.
He stretched lazily, sighing to himself, *Ah, the good life.*
Having inhabited this body for a little over a month, aside from the excruciating agony of waking up riddled with bloody puncture wounds, his days in Blackwater City could only be described as thoroughly delightful.
Jinzhou lay at the outermost northwestern corner of the Yuan Kingdom's realm. Blackwater City sat barely ten li from the border, guarding the country's gate for Great Yuan. It sounded honorable enough, but such a geographic position doomed Jinzhou to languish far outside the affectionate gaze of the sovereign father. Moreover, it had enjoyed peaceful years without war of late.
Yet the flip side of that coin was that the mountains were high and the emperor was far away.
On their own turf, the He family were standard local tyrants, and as the eldest son of the commandery governor, He Lingchuan could call the wind and summon the rain in Blackwater City and across the entire Qiansong Commandery.
His standards for food, clothing, shelter, and travel boiled down to three simple words:
Only the best.
The delicacies on his table, the playthings in his hands, and his daily allowances might not comprise the rarest treasures of the eight corners of the world, but many wealthy magnates of the inland could never hope to enjoy them.
The original He Lingchuan had grown to sixteen years of age in such a carefree environment.
How should one put it? He Lingchuan's verdict on the original owner was that he had a foul temper and a streak of arrogance.
The fellow was normally full of bluster and loved hawking, hunting with hounds, and riding out for game—otherwise he would never have met with that terrible disaster on Hulu Mountain.
Though this vessel of flesh was now fully healed, its new master had no intention of picking up his predecessor's hobby.
Over the past month, He Lingchuan had often reflected on what had happened on that cliff. The leopard monster that attacked him had already seemed gravely wounded before their clash; would the person who wounded it pursue it all the way to Blackwater City? Yet day after day slipped by, and both inside and outside the city walls remained calm and peaceful.
Beneath this veneer of a splendid life, an undercurrent seemed to churn. This left a former corporate drone who had once been entitled only to the "blessing" of relentless overtime feeling rather uneasy while savoring the sweet scent of privilege.
He Lingchuan took two sips of warm wine. Suddenly feeling a bit stuffy, he gestured for Uncle Hao to open the window.
The moment the window swung wide, a blast of chilly air swept in. The patrons on the second floor could not help but shiver. The papers on the neighboring private box's table were swept downstairs by the wind; two of them were small-denomination banknotes, which immediately touched off a scramble below.
No one bothered with the commotion downstairs. Liu Baobao merely pulled his collar tighter.
He Lingchuan took a deep breath, brushing aside his slight unease. Just then, the opera performance on the stage below ended. He took the lead in applauding, exclaiming with delight, "Well done! Reward them!" With that, he casually unfastened the jade pendant at his waist and had an attendant take it down as a bounty.
With the top patron setting the tone, the atmosphere in the hall surged to a climax, and the audience below loosened their purse strings as well.
Just outside the window ran the main thoroughfare of Blackwater City; as soon as the casement opened, the clamor drifted in with the breeze. He Lingchuan glanced out to see a bustling street jammed with traffic, people coming and going in an endless stream. The main street, widened three times over the years, could accommodate eight standard carriages abreast, yet right now there was not even a two-foot square of empty space.
"It's gotten this lively?"
Uncle Hao stood beside He Lingchuan and answered upon hearing him, "We're already into August. Passing merchants must hurry through before the Red Cliff Trade Route shuts down, hauling the final batch of cargo before winter."
He was the personal expert Governor He had assigned to his beloved son after the Hulu Mountain incident, guarding against any further mishap.
He Lingchuan nodded.
Blackwater City sat on the edge of the Panlong Desert. Though it appeared bleak and desolate, it was a vital hub connecting the western realms beyond to the interior of Great Yuan, for it was the mandatory waypoint along the famous Red Cliff Road.
Merchant travel through the desert was inherently perilous, fraught with fickle weather and rampant bandits, and the Panlong Desert was paramount among them. Only through countless predecessors sacrificing blood, sweat, and lives had a relatively safe passage been carved through it: the Red Cliff Trade Route.
However, the heart of the Panlong Desert underwent a violent transformation every September, at which point even the Red Cliff Trade Route was no longer safe. Experienced merchants therefore had to count the days and make the crossing early, so that during the months the route remained closed, they could jack up their prices and turn a handsome profit.
While the busiest season elsewhere came at the turn of the year, in Blackwater City it was right now.
Wealthy merchants had arrived in droves, and every trade was thriving. Street hawkers' cries rose and fell, and not a single horse trough at the post station had an open spot. The taxes collected by Blackwater City over these two months would surely be quite substantial, wouldn't they?
He Lingchuan snapped out of his reverie at that thought, finding it amusing that he was actually worrying about his old man's business.
Just then, someone downstairs requested an audience with the young master of the He Manor.
The visitor was a messenger sent by a local gang known as the Red-White Gang. Upon stepping into the room, he bowed without uttering a sound, merely glancing left and right.
He Lingchuan waved his hand, and the servants immediately retreated thirty feet away. Liu Baobao was tactful as well, casually making an excuse to wander off toward another private box.
Only Uncle Hao remained rooted in place.
"Speak. What is it?"
The fellow had been dispatched by his lodge master, who reported that two dust-covered outsiders had just walked into the Zhuzhi Tavern to inquire about a matter.
In a transportation hub like Blackwater City, travelers coming and going from north and south were as numerous as crossing carp. The best places to gather intelligence were naturally local taverns, teahouses, and pleasure quarters, so those two strangers had not gone about it the wrong way.
Yet they clearly did not understand the local ecosystem.
Organizations like the Red-White Gang might constantly bleat about how difficult it was for their brothers to scrape together a few coins, but in truth, they monopolized one of the most lucrative businesses in town: liquor.
The two had bad luck, walking right into a tavern frequented by members of the Red-White Gang.
"Tracking a wounded sand leopard?" Hearing those words, He Lingchuan felt a fierce tug at his heart. "And specifically near Blackwater City?"
Trouble had arrived at last.
"Precisely." The gang member glanced at him and quickly lowered his head. The young master's forehead veins were bulging; he looked downright furious. "Both of them spoke with outside accents; the brothers said they sounded like folks from eastern Yuan. The wine seller told them sand leopards live in the Western Mountains, nowhere near here. They didn't argue, only told anyone with clues to seek them out, promising a hefty reward regardless of whether the quarry is dead or alive."
Chapter 2