It's Finally Here

He Lingchuan only had to twitch his eyes, not even needing to speak, for a small, golden-threaded date to be delivered to his lips.

He stretched, sighing inwardly, "How comfortable."

Having replaced the original owner for over a month, aside from the agony of waking up covered in bloody holes, his days in Blackwater City could only be described as blissful.

Jin Province is located in the far northwest corner of the Yuan Kingdom, and Blackwater City sits less than ten miles from the border, serving as the Great Yuan's gatekeeper. It sounds prestigious in name, but this geography dictates that Jin Province receives none of the "loving gaze" of its monarch-father, especially since it has been peaceful and war-free for the last few years.

But the upside is that the mountains are high and the emperor is far away.

The He family are standard local despots on their own turf, and as the eldest son of the Prefect, He Lingchuan can have whatever he desires in Blackwater City, and indeed, the entire Qiansong Prefecture.

The standard for his food, clothing, housing, and transportation can be summed up in three words:

The very best.

The delicacies on his table, the trinkets in his hands, and his daily income—while perhaps not a collection of all the world's wonders—are things many inland tycoons might not even be able to enjoy.

The original He Lingchuan grew up to the age of sixteen in just such a carefree environment.

How to put it? He Lingchuan's assessment of his predecessor is that he had a bad temper and a somewhat arrogant nature.

This fellow was usually high-spirited, fond of hawking, coursing dogs, and hunting; otherwise, he wouldn't have met with such a major accident on Gourd Mountain.

Though this skin is now fully healed, the new owner has no intention of picking up those hobbies again.

For the past month or so, He Lingchuan has often thought of that encounter on the cliff. The Leopard Demon that attacked him seemed to have been severely wounded beforehand. Could the person who injured it be tracking it to Blackwater City? But as time ticked by, everything inside and outside the city remained calm.

Beneath the facade of a beautiful life, there always seemed to be undercurrents. This made him, a miserable wage slave who originally only deserved the "blessing" of hard labor, feel uneasy while enjoying the fragrance of privilege.

He Lingchuan sipped his warm wine, suddenly feeling stifled, and signaled Uncle Hao to open the window.

As the window opened, a gust of cold air rushed in. The people on the second floor couldn't help but shiver; the paper on the table in the next box was swept downstairs, including two small-denomination silver notes, immediately sparking a scramble below.

No one paid any mind to the commotion downstairs; Liu Baobao tightened his collar.

He Lingchuan took a deep breath, chasing away his petty emotions. Just then, the play downstairs finished, and he took the lead in applauding, saying happily, "Good! A reward!" With that, he casually unhooked the jade pendant from his waist and had someone take it down as a tip.

With a "big spender" taking the lead, the atmosphere reached a climax, and the audience below also began to open their purses.

Outside the window was the main street of Blackwater City. Once the window was open, the bustling noise drifted in with the wind. He Lingchuan glanced down, seeing the street filled with a constant stream of carriages and people. The main street, which had been widened three times, could accommodate eight standard carriages side-by-side, but at this moment, there wasn't even a two-foot gap to be found.

"So lively already?"

Uncle Hao, standing beside He Lingchuan, replied, "It is already the eighth month. Merchants are rushing to pass through before the Red Cliff Trade Route closes, to transport the last batch of goods before winter."

This was the top-tier expert the head of the He family had arranged for his beloved son after the Gourd Mountain accident, to prevent any further mishaps.

He Lingchuan nodded.

Blackwater City sits on the edge of the Coiling Dragon Desert. While it looks desolate, it is a vital thoroughfare connecting the western kingdoms to the interior of Great Yuan, as it is a mandatory stop on the famous Red Cliff Road.

Desert trade has always been perilous, with volatile weather and frequent bandits, and the Coiling Dragon Desert is the worst of them all. Countless predecessors used their blood, sweat, and lives to map out a relatively safe passage through the Coiling Dragon Desert: the Red Cliff Trade Route.

However, the center of the Coiling Dragon Desert undergoes a drastic change in September, at which point even the Red Cliff Trade Route is no longer safe. Therefore, experienced merchants must time their passage early so they can hike up prices and make a killing during the months the route is closed.

While other places look toward the end of the year for their busiest season, for Blackwater City, it is right now.

Wealthy merchants have all arrived, all trades are flourishing, street hawkers are calling out one after another, and the horse troughs at the post stations are completely full. The taxes collected in Blackwater City over these two months must be quite substantial, right?

He Lingchuan snapped back to reality, 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.

It was a messenger sent by a local gang known as the Red and White Path. After coming up, he bowed but didn't speak, only glancing around nervously.

He Lingchuan waved his hand, and the servants immediately retreated thirty feet away; Liu Baobao was also very sensible, finding an excuse to pace off to another box.

Only Uncle Hao remained standing where he was.

"Speak, what is it?"

This fellow had been sent by his altar master, saying that two travel-worn outsiders had just walked into the Zhuzhi Tavern to inquire about something.

In a transport hub like Blackwater City, travelers from north and south are as numerous as crucian carp in a river, so the best places to gather information are naturally the local taverns, teahouses, and red-light districts. The approach of these two strangers wasn't wrong.

But they clearly didn't understand the local ecosystem.

Organizations like the Red and White Path, while constantly harping on about how "it's not easy for brothers to earn a bit of money," actually monopolized one of the most profitable local trades: alcohol.

The two men were unlucky; they happened to walk into a tavern frequented by members of the Red and White Path.

"Tracking a wounded Sand Leopard?" Hearing this, He Lingchuan felt a sharp tug at his heart. "And specifically in the vicinity of Blackwater City?"

The trouble had finally arrived.

"Exactly." The gang member glanced at him and quickly lowered his head. The young master's temple veins were bulging, and he looked furious. "Both of them had foreign accents; the gang members said they sounded like people from East Yuan. The tavern keeper said Sand Leopards live in the West Mountain, far from here. They didn't argue, just told anyone with clues to find them, promising a heavy reward regardless of whether the target is dead or alive."