When his beloved son lay unconscious after the ambush, He Chunhua had also dispatched flying messages to the West Mountain leopard demons, yet none received any reply.
He sighed. "Furthermore, urgent dispatches from the interior have been cut off for a dozen days. The Pingning region was seized by rebel forces, only to be struck by floods right after. Post stations along the route were knocked out of service, severing all communications. These past few days, Blackwater City has been busy reorganizing its military forces."
He Lingchuan gave a slight start. "Are we going to enter the war too?"
He had indeed heard of recent unusual movements in the barracks, though he hadn’t taken it to heart. Qiansong Commandery had seen no major warfare in years, yet sporadic skirmishes around Blackwater City broke out every few days—mostly government troops riding out to suppress bandits or deal with reckless petty thieves. Soldiers and civilians alike were long accustomed to it.
"Hard to say." He Chunhua’s expression was dark and heavy.
"Forget it." Looking at the man's somewhat haggard face, He Lingchuan did not truly blame this cheap father of his. Commandery affairs were burdensome: grain output, commerce, border threats, defenses, natural disasters—not one could be taken lightly, and he still had to guard against rebel incursions from the interior. He Chunhua rose earlier than a rooster and slept later than a dog, serving as a genuinely diligent magistrate.
Even as he drained his heart and soul for Qiansong Commandery, the worst news often blew in from the heartland of the Yuan Kingdom!
The country was trapped in internal chaos.
"What did you summon me here to see, after all?"
"This." He Chunhua pried open the leopard's massive maw.
The mouthful of sharp fangs was chilling, but He Lingchuan instantly noticed the anomaly. "The canines are gone?"
All four canine teeth had been forcefully pulled out, leaving only bloody sockets.
"The leopard demon that attacked you also used its canines to conceal objects. Besides, the internal injuries on that leopard are strikingly similar to this Leopard King's." He mused, "Where did you put the things from its canine tooth? Bring them to show me."
When he was found at the bottom of the cliff by the He family men, He Lingchuan had been unconscious and covered in blood, while the leopard was long dead.
Thus, the He family brought both back together, rushing to treat the living while sending the dead leopard off for autopsy. He Lingchuan had only gone out to hunt blue sheep, yet he brought back a leopard demon, so it was considered his prize. After He Chunhua inspected the items hidden inside the leopard's tooth, he had handed the tooth over to his eldest son as a keepsake.
Demons had storage needs as well, but most wore no clothes. Where could they hide their belongings? The common practice was to refine a specific part of their body into a storage space. Of course, this required the support of innate talent. For instance, crocodile demons favored using their stomachs as treasure bags, while demons of the tiger, leopard, wolf, and jackal variety typically refined their canine teeth to conceal items.
Humans aware of this trait would naturally gouge out their canine teeth as battle trophies after slaying leopard demons.
Opening such a storage space required spiritual power. Having just transmigrated at the time, He Lingchuan had been oblivious to the inner workings and assumed the leopard tooth was genuinely empty.
"It’s in my room. I’ll fetch it in a moment." Now it was finally He Lingchuan’s turn to talk business. "Father, there is something else I must report to you."
He then recounted from start to finish how the Donglai Residence guards had been investigating the sand leopard's whereabouts.
The more He Chunhua listened, the tighter his brows knitted. The instant he heard the words "Donglai Residence," he shot to his feet. "What did you say?"
His face drained of color, and he swung his hand outward in a slap.
He Lingchuan instinctively backed away half a step.
Yet He Chunhua's palm froze in midair, never truly landing the blow.
After a few seconds, the palm clenched into a fist and slammed down onto the table with a loud bang!
"Setting up private interrogations—utter recklessness!"
He knew this son was used to acting wildly and never mended his ways despite repeated discipline; sooner or later, he would kick an iron plate. But he never imagined the iron plate would strike so quickly and so squarely.
The Grand Marshal!
How had they managed to offend the Grand Marshal!
In bureaucratic circles, He Chunhua was consistently praised for being "steady and composed," yet in He Lingchuan's memories, his old man frequently flew into rages at him. Not feeling particularly frightened, he argued back, "Those two were snooping all over the place, and this city is teeming with loose-lipped bastards. I feared they would trace it back to us before long."
At this moment, he felt a grudging admiration for He Chunhua's caution. Regarding the leopard demon, the Commandery Governor had not publicized it in the slightest; instead, he commanded those in the know to keep their lips tightly sealed. Otherwise, news that the little tyrant of Blackwater City had slain a leopard demon all on his own would have spread throughout the city long ago, and those two wouldn’t have even needed to ask around to find out.
Of course, no wall in the world was entirely windproof.
"Six years ago, the case of Zhang Hongbin launched by the Grand Marshal implicated one duke, two marquises, and seven earls, embroiling over two thousand six hundred people. How many survivors do you think were left in the end?"
His father’s face was as dark as a looming storm cloud. He Lingchuan ventured cautiously, "It seems... not many?"
"Seventy-three!" He Chunhua enunciated every word. "How many women and children were among them? Heh, in the end, a mere seventy-three survived!"
A chill welled up from the bottom of He Lingchuan's heart.
Forget ordinary commoners; even the lives of high dukes and ministers were treated like worthless grass, mowed down at will.
"By comparison, our household's plight can hardly be called the most miserable..." He Chunhua sighed with emotion, then steered back to the matter at hand. "Once you received word from the Red-White Gang, why didn't you come directly to report to me?"
"I wanted to pry out information before reporting." He Lingchuan's expression hardened, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes. "If those two had no backing, taking my revenge by the way would be best. If their patron was too formidable, then all the more reason they must never know the escaped sand leopard is in our hands."
He Chunhua had been bristling with anger, but upon carefully mulling over his son’s words, his expression gradually eased. In the end, there was even a faint trace of approval. "Not without reason."
Capturing those two or letting them be was not the crux of the issue; the root of the trouble was that the thing the Grand Marshal desired might very well be in their hands.
He looked at He Lingchuan. "You've learned to use your head after all."
Meeting his father's gratified gaze, He Lingchuan deflected with a grin. "I'll go get the things."
A quarter of an hour later.
He Lingchuan returned carrying the leopard tooth and emptied its stored contents onto the low table.
"That’s all of it."
The belongings left by the sand leopard that had attacked He Lingchuan included several monster cores of varying sizes and colors, a set of hair-splitting daggers, a few pieces of mutton-fat white jade, a pearl necklace, some miscellany of indiscernible purpose, and even a dozen or so gold and silver ingots!
Monsters were not entirely savage; they also traded with humans. The presence of gold and silver as hard currency did not surprise father or son.
"What the Grand Marshal wants can't possibly be this strand of pearls, can it?" He Lingchuan held up the necklace to inspect it against the light.
The luster of the pearls was gentle and captivating. Each was slightly larger than a melon seed, faintly shimmering with a blue sheen under the sunlight. Merely holding it out for a moment caused faint wisps of moisture to condense around the strand. Standing near it brought a cool sensation, and even breathing felt considerably smoother, as if one had arrived at a breeze-swept seashore.
"It has a slight effect of condensing moisture, nothing truly extraordinary." All living creatures needed water. In the parched desert, this strand of pearls could provide comfort to a sand leopard, but the Grand Marshal shouldn't have any interest in it.
He Chunhua shifted his gaze to the pile of sundries. During the last inventory, he had set them aside in a heap, but now they warranted a closer look.
Yet these items were trivial odds and ends: shriveled herbs, half a lump of blackened musk, bones that hadn’t been gnawed completely clean, along with bloody rings that seemed taken from human victims, a broken hairpin, several packets of spices, a dozen or so feathers, half a comb, and...
A large pile of dried insects, dried snakes, and dried lizards.
To monsters and a select few humans, such dried meats were delicious little snacks.
Father and son, along with Uncle Hao and the steward, searched diligently, yet still found nothing that caught the eye, finally letting the matter drop.
He Lingchuan lowered his head, stealing a quiet glance at the necklace around his neck.
This item was unusual; it was no longer in its original state. He had considered repeatedly whether to present it, but a voice in the depths of his heart always warned him: *Never show it to anyone!*
The premonition was so powerful that after agonizing over it for a long time, he still chose to follow his instincts.
"Take these back. Leave those two guards in the custody of the Red-White Gang for now. Right, I recall the Red-White Gang has a farmstead in the southern outskirts. It’s the slack season right now, so there should be hardly anyone around the estate. Do you understand, Lingchuan? ...Good, go after dinner, and handle it neatly." He Chunhua turned to Uncle Hao. "A-Hao, stay behind for a moment."
He Lingchuan took his leave upon receiving the order, while Uncle Hao remained in place.
Only after the figure of the He household's eldest son vanished behind the corridor did He Chunhua say to Uncle Hao, "Tell me everything that happened today, from start to finish."
Uncle Hao recounted each detail without adding any embellishment.
Having heard him out, He Chunhua nodded and dismissed him.
The storehouse fell silent. He Chunhua stared at the leopard corpse on the table, lost in thought for a long time.
Steward Lao Mo waited beside him until two incense sticks of time had passed before speaking up to remind him, "Master, it's time for dinner."
The Commandery Governor grunted an acknowledgment. "What do you make of this?"
"The Eldest Young Master appeared reckless, but he actually handled it quite well," Lao Mo smiled and said. "Those two guards shouldn't have been left to wander the city, asking questions."
"The little rascal has grown a bit of a brain. It seems that severe injury of his was a blessing in disguise." The Commandery Governor let out a soft sigh.
"Master originally worried over the Eldest Young Master's sudden change in disposition, but now you can set your mind at ease."
"Indeed." The Commandery Governor murmured faintly, "Let us go eat dinner."
No matter how much the Commandery Governor longed for his homeland, and no matter how closely the He residence mirrored the capital's architectural style, daily meals had to bow to reality, eating much the same as the locals of Blackwater City.
After all, those near the mountains ate of the mountains, those near the waters ate of the waters, and those living in dust ate of the dust.
He Lingchuan feasted heartily on half a boiled leg of lamb set before him. This was stewed in plain water, with at most a few slices of ginger and tied scallions tossed in to remove the gaminess.
Clear simmering brought out the natural flavor. The lamb meat was naturally crisp and springy to the bite. Dipping it into spiced pepper and chili salt made it an incomparable delicacy. He Lingchuan wielded the knife himself, slicing a piece, dipping a piece, and eating a piece, sighing in pure contentment.
The cook hired by the Governor’s Residence used only big-horned sheep under a year and a half old. These sheep roamed the gravel desert, frequently grazing on medicinal herbs such as dandelion and skullcap. As a result, the meat possessed a rich, mellow aroma, vastly different from their counterparts elsewhere—a true specialty of the Red Cliff Route.
Beside He Chunhua sat a beautifully dressed woman, gently blowing twice on a bowl of millet porridge before sipping it slowly. Her unhurried grace formed a stark contrast with He Lingchuan’s voracious eating.
This was He Chunhua's first wife and the mistress of the He household, Ying Hongchan. She occasionally tasted a piece of lamb, but only after the steward carved it for her, arranging it neatly on the plate.
She listened to the conversation between her husband and younger son with a face full of smiles, occasionally casting a glance at He Lingchuan.
The four members of their family were all gathered here, neat and complete.
He Chunhua was currently discussing this year's tax revenues for Qiansong Commandery with his younger son.
Yes, taxes. One of the favorite topics of gossip among the residents of Blackwater City was that Governor He's most capable assistant was neither a veteran accountant nor an advisor under his command, but rather his younger son, He Yue, who was not yet fourteen years old.
This child had recognized characters at three, memorized three hundred poems by seven, and the following year the He household had thrown two accountants into prison—He Yue, with nothing better to do, audited the ledgers, uncovered several tangled piles of bad debt, and dragged out two plump, parasitic grubs.
By the time He Yue reached twelve, beyond achieving proficiency in chess, calligraphy, and painting, he began to boss around... no, to offer strategies and advice on Governor He's administrative affairs.
He Chunhua was no pedantic old scholar. His younger son's proposals were clear, structured, and effective, so he naturally encouraged him with both hands. He Yue grew more confident the more he did, eventually able to shoulder a portion of his father's workload.
Hence, scenes like the present one were common.
He Lingchuan took no part in their discussion—not a single word. He needed only to quietly enjoy the fine food; after all, that was how his original predecessor had always acted.
He couldn't get a word in edgewise anyway.
The He brothers had both inherited their father’s fine looks: He Lingchuan had sharp contours and was tall and handsome, while He Yue had delicate features, resembling Madam Ying more closely.
Yet their traits were entirely different.
He Yue possessed a photographic memory, whereas as the eldest son, He Lingchuan was guaranteed to fall asleep within a quarter of an hour of reading a book—more effective than any calming sedative.
The only thing more annoying than "other people's children" was "my younger brother is a top scholar."
It truly was an all-around, flawless crushing.
"Enough, let's eat!" Ying Hongchan interrupted the conversation between father and son. "If you don't pick up your chopsticks, the dishes will get cold."
In truth, if they didn't pick up their chopsticks, the dishes would soon be finished by He Lingchuan.
He practiced martial arts, and his appetite was more than double that of an ordinary person.
Seeing Ying Hongchan personally serve He Yue a soft-fried river prawn, He Lingchuan wiped his hands with a napkin. "Second Brother, issue a customs clearance permit for Liu Baobao's merchant guild tomorrow. His family's caravan is about to return and doesn't want to get stuck at Baitong Pass."
"I told you not to call me Second Brother!" It sounded dreadful, and He Yue genuinely detested the title. "I was just about to tell you that the Liu family merchant guild has defaulted on two years of transport taxes. Factoring in the late fees, it amounts to roughly seven hundred taels. Only when they pay it in full will they receive the clearance order."
"If that caravan doesn't return, they can't pay those seven hundred taels," He Lingchuan chuckled. "We're all old acquaintances. Make an exception just this once, and I'll keep an eye on them for you when the time comes."
He Yue wanted to object further, but He Chunhua spoke first. "No matter. Issue the permit."
His word was final, so He Yue could only sullenly agree, glaring at He Lingchuan.
What did he mean by making an exception "just this once"? This had happened eight or ten times already! When had the young master ever personally kept an eye on anything? It was always spoken and promptly forgotten!
Yet Father consistently favored his elder brother.
He Lingchuan raised his sea buckthorn juice toward him, flashing a toothy grin.
In truth, after once or twice, he had seen through it. This wasn't feathering his own nest; it was doing dirty work for his father. Governor He was an official, after all, and there were times when it was inconvenient for him to step forward personally, so his son stood in his stead.
"Speaking of which, Eldest Brother's expenses this past month have indeed dropped. He only withdrew a little over two hundred taels from the estate, whereas normally nine hundred wouldn't even cover it," He Yue enumerated like familiar treasures. "Though after your injury, medical care, medicine, and tonics also cost over three hundred taels of silver in total..."
He Lingchuan’s heart skipped a beat. Hurriedly feigning impatience, he said, "I know, I know! Wasn't I stuck in bed for too long with no chance to spend it? I know I spent too little; I'll put more effort into it next month!"
Slip-ups truly lurked everywhere. He hadn't expected that spending *less* money would make him appear more suspicious.
By rough calculation, one tael of silver traded for a thousand copper coins, meaning Young Master He's regular monthly expenditure was nine hundred thousand coins!
As it turned out, squandering a fortune was a technical skill. He Lingchuan had tried his utmost to spend money, yet had only burned through two hundred taels in a month.
In a borderland like this, a hundred taels was enough for an ordinary family of four to live comfortably for five or six years!
Ying Hongchan cleared her throat softly. "Lingchuan, I was just about to tell you that summer and autumn consume too much money, and the household must economize. Starting next month, your expenses must be kept under eighty taels." Having said that, she glanced at her husband.
Before He Chunhua could state his position, He Lingchuan was already shouting, "Eighty taels? Two visits to Hongyan Restaurant and it'll be gone!"
Ying Hongchan’s face darkened slightly. "Your younger brother doesn't even use twenty taels a month."
"He..." He Lingchuan refused to back down. "He eats and drinks at home—what money could he possibly spend? I have so many men under me to maintain, not to mention connections across the city to manage. Managing relations costs money, and it isn't solely for my sake!"
"What kind of connections?" Ying Hongchan sneered. "Those people fawn over you, yet their eyes are fixed entirely on the Master. Do such connections even need maintaining? Our household does not lack watchdogs."
Giving He Lingchuan no room to interject, she added, "The situation is volatile, and our funds and grain must be put to proper use. Lingchuan, your father and I do not ask you to relieve the family's worries, but do make less trouble."
These words were rather harsh. He Lingchuan immediately felt stifled, accompanied by a wave of resentment.
None of this was his own emotion.
In fact, every time the whole family dined together, he could feel an "unpleasantness" welling from deep within his mind—an almost instinctive bodily reaction.
The body's original owner intensely disliked such scenes. Given that He Chunhua showed him abundant affection, this negative emotion was likely aimed primarily at the lady of the house.
"Father." He turned squarely toward his father.
He Chunhua pondered for a moment before speaking up. "Madam is right, but eighty taels..." was still a bit too little. "Let us raise it to two hundred taels."
One hundred taels would have been plenty, saving him the exhaustion of trying to spend it, but He Lingchuan wore a dissatisfied scowl. "That's still far too little! Three hundred taels!"
Mother and son wrangled for quite a while, with He Chunhua providing auxiliary support—otherwise known as smoothing things over. In the end, Madam Ying dug in her heels, settling firmly on one hundred and eighty taels without budging.
Ying Hongchan shot a reproachful look at her husband. She wanted to cut down her eldest son's allowance, yet the boy's father couldn't harden his heart; after all that back-and-forth, he had only shaved off twenty taels compared to last month!
Truly, one who does not run the household knows not the price of rice and firewood.
"Saving more than six hundred taels of silver each month," He Yue blinked, "could purchase dozens of suits of fine armor, or several prime warhorses, or recruit at least sixty men into the ranks."
The moment his words fell, He Lingchuan slapped the table and stood up. "I'm full!"
Before striding out of the dining hall, he did not forget to scoop a poached pear from the brass basin, eating as he walked.
This pear had been stewed with rock sugar and Sichuan pepper for over half an hour until sweet, crisp, and tender. It also possessed the virtue of calming the heart and dispelling heat—perfect for dampening the internal fire after gorging on mutton.
No one stopped him.
As he reached the edge of the garden, He Lingchuan glanced back to see the three of them still seated around the table, eating and discussing in harmonious warmth.
He shrugged, picking up his pace toward his quarters.
To be fair, He Chunhua was truly not bad to this eldest son of his. He Lingchuan occupied the largest, quietest, and most beautiful courtyard in the east, complete with black pines, white peach trees, winding streams, elevated pavilions, and even a small martial practice ground.
Though He Yue's residence was also in the eastern wing, its grounds were only half the size of his elder brother's.
The sole servant in the courtyard hurried over at the sound of his footsteps, only to be waved away with a casual gesture.
He Lingchuan stripped off his upper garment and practiced his fist routines under the moonlight for over half an hour until thoroughly drenched in sweat.
The original host lacked literary talent, but had loved martial arts from childhood and never feared hard labor—a rare trait among scions of noble houses. The He ancestors had produced military generals, possessing their own body-refining technique, which He Chunhua had passed on to his eldest son.
At the peak of his practice, his robust physique became enveloped in a faint layer of white mist, visible only under the moonlight.
Reaching the optimal point, He Lingchuan promptly withdrew his fists and sat down, regulating his breathing.
Little by little, the white mist was absorbed back into his body through his mouth and nose.
This completed a single cycle.
What he cultivated was the He family's ancestral divine ability, known as the "Guiding Technique."
Through the body-refining art, He Lingchuan forced his true qi out to the surface of his skin, bringing it into close contact with the spiritual qi of heaven and earth—especially the moonlight—before drawing it back through breath regulation to eliminate impurities and retain the essence.
Thus, one movement and one stillness, one exit and one entry, one pull and one guide, brought the cycle to completion.
Naturally, one could also complete a heavenly circulation entirely using the Guiding Technique, but initiating it with body refinement expelled deep-seated chills, grime, and latent ailments from the flesh, resulting in far superior purification of true qi.
With his breathing regulated, He Lingchuan felt even more invigorated. Grabbing a white towel, he headed off for a hot soak.
The hot water had also been prepared by the servant, an honest, simple man in his thirties.
Soaking in the hot water, He Lingchuan exhaled a long breath. If only there were someone to scrub his back right now, it would be pure bliss.
As a transportation hub connecting north and south, Blackwater City naturally had bathhouses, known as "bath parlors." Beyond communal soaking, back-scrubbing and pedicures were standard services. But that was in the bathhouses; the young master of the He family could enjoy no back-scrubbing services provided by young maidservants in his own home.
Because he had no maidservants.
Teens, twenties, or even thirties and forties... none whatsoever.
To cultivate the He family's ancestral martial arts with twice the results for half the effort and reap lifelong benefits, one had to preserve their boyhood virginity.
When He Lingchuan first began learning, he had been young and ignorant of the drawbacks. Only after growing older and watching his fair-weather friends indulging in wine, romance, and song did he go to confront He Chunhua—only for his old man to beat his chest and stamp his feet in despair.
He Lingchuan was intoxicated by the martial path and naturally unwilling to give up halfway, so he had endured it.
Still, He Chunhua had no desire to intentionally test his eldest son's willpower, and thus assigned no females to his courtyard.
Sitting in the large wooden tub, He Lingchuan pondered over the West Mountain leopard demons, the Donglai Residence guards captured by the Red-White Gang, and the odds and ends hidden inside the leopard's tooth.
When would the Donglai Residence realize that the guards sent to Blackwater City had gone missing?
How would they react?
And how would the Commandery Governor respond?
Subconsciously, he picked up the necklace on his chest to look at it again. Suddenly, he tore it off and hurled it toward the distant garden with all his strength.
The necklace traced an arc through the air, sailing over the courtyard wall.
A few breaths later, feeling something strange against his chest, he looked down—
The necklace had returned on its own, resting snugly around his neck.
Sure enough, no matter how many times he threw it away, the thing always found its way back.
He had examined it closely many times. Though its exterior resembled jade, it was not jade at all, but rather slightly akin to ivory.
When all was said and done, the composition of ivory and bone was remarkably similar.
The day he fell off the cliff, he had heard the leopard roar a new term:
Divine bone.
Could this necklace pendant that stubbornly clung to him actually be a divine bone?
***
Dinner concluded, He Yue excused himself, and He Chunhua and his wife returned to wash up.
Only then did Ying Hongchan find the chance to lecture her husband. "You spoil Lingchuan far too much. His share alone accounts for the lion's share of the household's monthly expenses! And look at him—slapping the table and storming out!" How utterly arrogant!
"It won't be that way next month," He Chunhua placated her. "He only just suffered a grievous injury, yet we slashed his allowance; it's natural he feels aggrieved."
Madam Ying wanted to say more, but He Chunhua had already shifted the topic. "Have you noticed any changes in Lingchuan lately?"
"Lately?" Madam Ying gave it careful thought, then shook her head. "Aside from spending less money, there doesn't seem to be any change."
Drinking, brawling, strutting through the streets, showing no respect for his elders—none of that seemed to have changed in the slightest.
"Is that so?" He Chunhua gave her a meaningful look. "I haven't been around the estate much lately; you haven't shared many meals with him, have you?"
Ying Hongchan's face fell. "Master, it's Lingchuan himself who refuses to stay home! In the last ten days, it was good if he returned home for dinner even two of them."
He Chunhua sighed. "You must be more considerate of him. After all, he's nearly sixteen."
"Naturally." Madam Ying agreed readily, just as she always had. "No matter what, Lingchuan is still the eldest son of the He family."
Madam Ying returned to her room. Watching her retreating back, He Chunhua exhaled a long breath.
House Steward Lao Mo appeared from nowhere, stepping to his side.
With his hands behind his back, He Chunhua murmured, "The men sent by the Donglai Residence to track the leopard demon vanished once they reached Blackwater City. If this matter is of great consequence, they will not let it rest. I fear there is more to come."
He let out a sigh. "Yet that isn't what worries me most; it's the situation to the east. Our communication with the royal court has been severed for too long. I always feel that great chaos draws near."
"Even if calamity strikes, Master will weather it safely," Steward Lao Mo said with firm conviction. "It has always been so."
***
Another ten days passed in tranquil peace.
As the date for the closure of the Red Cliff Route drew nearer, more and more merchants poured into Blackwater City. The Commandery Governor grew increasingly busy, while the severed communications between Qiansong Commandery and eastern Yuan Kingdom showed no sign of improvement.
The young master of the He family continued to swagger through the streets.
Life was truly utterly boring—smooth sailing to the point where he hardly knew how to enjoy the peace and quiet.
He Chunhua had recently been spinning like a windmill with work, lacking even the time to return home for dinner. Madam Ying did not summon the two boys either, leaving each to eat on their own, much to He Lingchuan's delight.
Compared to Madam Ying, He Chunhua was truly a benevolent father.
Yet contrary to what most people imagined, a second-generation official like He Lingchuan rarely paid out of pocket when going out to feast and make merry. Today, for instance, Liu Baobao had once again invited him to dine at Hongyan Restaurant, under the pretext of thanking He Lingchuan for securing the customs clearance permit that allowed the Liu family caravan to return safely.
Liu Baobao had claimed it was just "a simple meal," yet the dishes brought to the table were all exotic game, and the wine was a twenty-year vintage cellared by the Liu family.
Not to mention that the beauty pouring the wine was Liu Baobao's most favored concubine. Her watery, peach-blossom eyes cast frequent glances at He Lingchuan, and she served his wine with unmatched diligence.
Taking this in, Liu Baobao silently cursed her for a little vixen, yet put on an expression of deep regret. "Eldest Young Master, do you truly have to wait until eighteen to break your fast?"
"Mm-hmm." Putting down a piece of braised venison, He Lingchuan asked for a plate of plum-pickled peanuts, washing down two peanuts with each gulp of wine.
After gorging on rich meats, mountain delicacies, and wild game for nearly two months, he suddenly found himself missing pickled vegetable fried dough noodle soup, scallion-sugar flatbreads, and big wontons.
In his past life, when paying off his mortgage at the start of the month, he had to survive on those by month's end.
Yet now, whenever he saw a flatbread stall by the roadside, he felt an urge to run down and buy a serving.
Having gone without for so long, his soul genuinely missed them.
It was like a middle-aged man who had married a rich, fair beauty and reached the peak of life, occasionally reminiscing in midnight dreams about his plain, clear-broth first love.
Right at that moment, a commotion erupted outside.
Liu Baobao was hosting him in a private room on the second floor of Hongyan Restaurant. They were already seated leaning against the railing, with the center of the street just outside the window.
He Lingchuan poked his head out, just in time to see the crowded throngs abruptly part to both sides. Immediately afterward, two tall warhorses galloped into view.
He let out a soft exclamation of surprise, discerning at a glance that the mounts galloping down the street were not purebred steeds, but hybrids carrying the bloodline of the bo beast. Their hallmarks were large heads, sharp teeth, greenish-red frames, and bulging scarlet eyes.
This kind of mount was named the feral horse. Inheriting the bo beast's wind-like speed and exceptional stamina, it was also violent-tempered and fond of eating raw flesh and blood, capable of serving as combat power on the battlefield. Twenty fine steeds picked from a thousand might not trade for a single feral horse.
Naturally, feral horses had their own grades. He Lingchuan's cherished mount was also a feral horse, a gift presented to the Governor of Qiansong Commandery by a small western state—carefully selected and of superior quality, yet on par with the two below.
If the horses were such, who were the riders?
The two riders traveled one behind the other. In front was a youth in white robes, seventeen or eighteen years of age, with slender brows, bright eyes, and a sharp gaze. Behind him rode a traveler in grey wearing a conical bamboo hat, whose face was hidden from He Lingchuan's vantage point.
Directly before the white-robed youth, a spiritual pearl the size of a goose egg hovered in midair, spinning rapidly. The crowd in front of the horses was pushed aside by an invisible blast of force, carving out a path down the middle.
That force was far from gentle. Pedestrians were tossed left and right; a fat man crashed into a stall behind him, squashing the vendor's piping-hot rice cakes into flat pancakes.
The vendor naturally refused to let it go, and the two began shouting at each other.
This was a world of strange forces and chaotic spirits, so He Lingchuan felt no great shock, merely letting out a dry chuckle. "Galloping horses through a bustling market—what grand swagger."
Major cities in the Yuan Kingdom had regulations requiring riders to dismount and lead their horses. Though Blackwater City permitted riding, it had to be at a slow pace; bolting at a full gallop was strictly forbidden. Violators were dragged down for twenty lashes, fined five taels of silver, and punished separately if anyone was injured.
The local customs were fierce, and the penalties had to be equally fierce.
Hearing this, Liu Baobao stole a glance at He Lingchuan, thinking to himself, *Don't you usually do the exact same thing?*
The two mounts were about to pass beneath the restaurant at a T-junction. Turning into the secondary street would reduce the pedestrian traffic by at least half, so the white-robed youth retrieved the floating sphere; maintaining such an item consumed energy, after all.
Just then, a little boy ran past the roadside. Jolted by a passing pedestrian, the rattle-drum in his hand slipped free and flew out, landing squarely in the very middle of the street!
The child immediately dashed out to retrieve his toy.
He stood directly in the path of the galloping feral horse.
His parents cried out in horror, rushing from behind, but were blocked by the crowd ahead, too far to reach him in time.
The rider showed no intention of slowing down. In two seconds at most, the massive hooves would crush the toddler.
*Not again!* He Lingchuan sighed inwardly. Why was there always a child diving into oncoming traffic, no matter the world?
Fortunately, things were different now; he had no need to step in personally.
"Uncle Hao!" He Lingchuan rested his chin on one hand while pointing downward with the other.
Uncle Hao, who had been standing beside him like an invisible shadow, fished out two copper coins and flicked his wrist, hurling them down.
Both copper coins shot toward the path directly in front of the feral horse, spaced over three feet apart. If the rider continued galloping, the horse's legs or belly would likely be struck. The reason for throwing two was to prevent the rider from batting one away and maintaining speed.
Uncle Hao's copper coins were no easy thing to catch. He Lingchuan had seen him pierce through a black bear's skull with a single coin. The hardness of a large bear's skull went without saying, certainly no weaker than the two feral horses below.
Judging the situation, the white-robed youth below yanked hard on the reins. The feral horse neighed and reared up on its hind legs, grinding to a screeching halt, its hooves coming down less than seven feet from the child on the ground.
Chapter 5