The Identity of the Pursuers
He Lingchuan's face darkened. The news of the original He Lingchuan falling off a cliff with the leopard had been kept secret by the He family. After the incident, the sand leopard's body was secretly brought back to Blackwater City for examination, revealing that it had already been gravely injured before attacking him.
Now, two strangers had suddenly arrived, inquiring about the sand leopard. This couldn't be a coincidence—it had to be connected to those who had hunted the leopard and caused the original He Lingchuan's calamity!
This was a lead he couldn't afford to lose.
"Where are they now?"
"They're still at the tavern. Our gang leader is waiting for your instructions."
"Keep them there."
"Understood." The informant grinned. "Those two act all high and mighty, as if they're better than everyone. They complain about the wine being sour and the place being smelly—our brothers are already annoyed with them. We'd be glad to teach them some manners."
He Lingchuan hesitated briefly but then stood up. "Lead the way."
He knew well enough that his sudden arrival in this world wasn't just to live a life of ease without cost or consequence. If he was destined to be drawn into trouble, he might as well take the initiative.
But Uncle Hao stepped forward. "I'll go ahead. Young Master, you follow later." Without waiting for a response, Uncle Hao left with the messenger.
The He family had a working relationship with the Red and White gang. Its leader, Jin, had once shared drinks and entertainment with He Lingchuan and had benefited from the young master's connections to resolve a few tricky situations. In a small town like Blackwater City, interpersonal networks were everything. Of course, the Red and White gang also saw an opportunity to curry favor with Governor He Chunhua by helping his son.
When He Chunhua first took office, he found Blackwater City to be a chaotic mess where the most lucrative trades were already carved up by various factions. As the governor, he naturally wanted to establish long-term stability. Given the city's strategic location, some underworld forces had to be managed rather than outright eradicated.
Thus, He Chunhua had issued the "Liquor Permit Policy", requiring anyone selling alcohol to obtain an official license.
This policy forced organizations like the Red and White gang to operate within the law. Anyone without a permit would face legal repercussions, and even these unruly groups dared not openly defy the government. With a mix of suppression and co-option, He Chunhua gradually brought these forces under control, making Blackwater City his domain.
If there was so much as a ripple of trouble within the city, the He family would know immediately.
Capturing the Strangers
The two outsiders stepped out of a teahouse just as a gust of wind blew dust and sand into their faces. They winced, shielding their eyes too late and cursing under their breath.
Hurrying back to their inn, they ordered a hot meal before heading to the public bathhouse to wash up.
But as they soaked, an inexplicable drowsiness overtook them. Yawning uncontrollably, they eventually fell asleep in their wooden tubs.
The next thing they knew, they were being doused with cold water.
They woke with a start, only to find themselves tied to chairs, facing a blank gray wall.
When He Lingchuan arrived at the inn's rear courtyard, Uncle Hao emerged from a nearby room, his hands wet and his expression grim. "They've confessed."
"They're still alive?" He Lingchuan frowned. Uncle Hao's stern demeanor was enough to make his own heart sink.
"...Alive." Uncle Hao's tone was dry, as if he expected the young master to care more about their confession than their survival. "They claim to be second-class guards from Donglai Manor, acting under orders from the Grand Marshal."
"Donglai Manor?" The name rang faintly familiar. He dug into the fragmented memories of the original He Lingchuan.
The previous owner of this body had excelled in hunting, martial arts, and leisurely pursuits but had paid little attention to political affairs.
But the title "Grand Marshal" jolted He Lingchuan like a lightning bolt.
Now he remembered.
How many Grand Marshals were there in Yuan Kingdom?
Uncle Hao confirmed his thoughts with deliberate precision: "The Donglai Manor is the residence of Grand General Dong Haoming, the Grand Marshal of the Yuan Kingdom, whose title 'Pillar of the Nation' was personally bestowed by the Emperor. He's also the father of the Eastern Queen Consort—the Emperor's father-in-law."
"These two are under the Grand Marshal's command?" He Lingchuan's expression shifted dramatically before suspicion crept in. "If that's the case, why didn't they reveal their identities sooner? Why wait until they were tortured? Are they masochists?"
The so-called "guards" were, in essence, private soldiers of Donglai Manor. While nobles in the capital were forbidden from maintaining personal armies, many high-ranking officials secretly did so under various guises.
With the empire's governance increasingly lax, such practices had grown widespread—an open secret that no one dared discuss.
"Their mission is classified. They were under orders not to reveal it," Uncle Hao replied. He opened his palm, revealing two small plaques stained with blood. "We found these on them."
The plaques bore the words "Dong Ming" and a golden seal. They were about the size of mahjong tiles, with rounded corners and a thickness similar to a leaf.
He Lingchuan picked one up and weighed it in his hand. It was incredibly light, neither metal nor wood. The texture was reminiscent of jade but slightly elastic when pressed.
"They're authentic," Uncle Hao said gravely. "I've seen plaques from Donglai Manor before. These are identical. The Grand Marshal's fief produces a rare type of wood that exudes a gel-like substance when stripped of its bark. The material is colorless, odorless, and semi-transparent, hardening when baked. It's unique to Donglai Manor and impossible to counterfeit."
"So these two really are from Donglai Manor?" Which meant… he had somehow crossed paths with the Grand Marshal's forces?
No, Donglai Manor had come looking for him.
How had he, separated by a thousand miles, unknowingly offended the Emperor's father-in-law?
Even the original He Lingchuan would have realized how dire this situation was.
"Why would tracking an injured sand leopard turn into a classified mission?" He Lingchuan muttered, frustration bubbling inside him.
The original He Lingchuan had lived a carefree, reckless life in Blackwater City for sixteen years. Yet in less than two months of inhabiting his body, the new He Lingchuan had landed himself in this mess.
"These two were tasked with gathering clues in Blackwater City. They know little else. However, they did mention that over ten others were dispatched simultaneously to search the Red Cliff Trade Route and its surroundings," Uncle Hao added. "They weren't directly sent from Donglai Manor—they were stationed at Wu Zhaoling and departed from there."
Wu Zhaoling, a mere two hundred li (about 100 kilometers) from Blackwater City, was far closer than the capital.
"Oh." He Lingchuan filed the detail away, his mind preoccupied.
In these chaotic times, Dong Haoming's influence spanned the entire kingdom. That he had stationed men in Wu Zhaoling wasn't surprising.
"Will more from Donglai Manor come?"
"They don't know," Uncle Hao said, glancing back toward the room. "We've gotten all we can out of them. What should we do with them?"
The simplest solution was clear: kill them and dispose of the bodies.