All He Lingchuan had to do was glance at something, and a small, golden jujube would be popped right into his mouth.
Stretching lazily, he sighed internally, "How comfortable."
It had been over a month since he replaced the original He Lingchuan. Aside from the initial suffering of waking up with his body riddled with wounds, life in Blackwater City had been nothing short of enjoyable.
Located in the far northwest of the Yuan Kingdom's territory, Jinzhou province, where Blackwater City lay, was merely ten miles from the border—a frontier post, nominally the kingdom's "guardians of the gates." While the title sounded prestigious, this remote location ensured Jinzhou was far from the affectionate gaze of the Emperor. Furthermore, the region had been peaceful for years without a single war breaking out.
But that distance also meant freedom.
The He family reigned as the undisputed rulers of their little dominion, and as the governor's eldest son, He Lingchuan enjoyed unparalleled privilege. In Blackwater City and the entirety of Qiansong County, whatever he wanted, he got—rain, wind, or anything else.
His lifestyle was governed by a simple standard:
Only the best.
The food on his table, the trinkets in his hands, and his daily income—while not quite "gathering the world's treasures"—were luxuries even wealthy elites in the central provinces might never enjoy.
The original He Lingchuan had grown up in this carefree environment for sixteen years.
How to describe him?
He Lingchuan assessed the original as having a bad temper and an innate arrogance. He was a spirited youth who loved falconry, hunting, and games of prowess. It was that zest for life that had led him to the disastrous encounter on Calabash Mountain.
Although his body had fully recovered now, its new inhabitant had no intention of resuming the original's hobbies.
For the past month, He Lingchuan often found himself revisiting the memory of the leopard demon that had attacked him. The beast had clearly been injured before their encounter—might the person who wounded it be tracking it here to Blackwater City? But as the days passed, the city remained peaceful inside and out.
Even so, beneath the surface of this idyllic life, he couldn't shake the feeling of unseen currents stirring.
As someone who had spent his past life as a beleaguered office worker, now enjoying the fragrance of privilege, he couldn't quite feel at ease.
Taking a sip of warm wine, He Lingchuan felt stifled and gestured for Uncle Hao to open a window.
A gust of cold wind rushed in, making the patrons on the second floor shiver. Papers from the table in the neighboring box were blown downstairs, two of which happened to be small-denomination silver notes, sparking a chaotic scramble among the crowd below.
No one upstairs paid any mind to the commotion. Liu Baobao tightened his robe, while He Lingchuan took a deep breath, banishing his unease.
The play below had just ended, and he led the applause enthusiastically, declaring, "Good! A reward!" He unhooked a jade ornament from his belt and tossed it to a servant to deliver as a tip.
With the leading patron setting the example, the mood in the theater reached its peak. Many other spectators followed suit, digging into their pockets to join in the generosity.
The view outside the now-opened window revealed Blackwater City's bustling main street. He Lingchuan glanced at the constant flow of carriages and people, noting that the street—wide enough to accommodate eight horse-drawn carriages abreast—was so crowded that not even a two-foot gap could be found.
"So lively?"
Standing beside him, Uncle Hao replied, "It's already late August. Merchants are rushing to cross the Red Cliff Trade Route before it closes, transporting their final shipments before winter."
Uncle Hao had been assigned as He Lingchuan's personal bodyguard by his father, Governor He Chunhua, after the incident on Calabash Mountain, to ensure his son's safety.
He Lingchuan nodded.
Blackwater City sat on the edge of the Coiling Dragon Desert. Though it appeared desolate, it was a crucial trade hub connecting the Yuan Kingdom to the western nations. The renowned Red Cliff Trade Route passed right through it, making the city an indispensable checkpoint.
Desert trade routes were inherently perilous, plagued by unpredictable weather and frequent bandit attacks. Among them, the Coiling Dragon Desert was infamous as the most dangerous. Generations of blood and sweat had carved out a relatively safe path through it—the Red Cliff Trade Route.
However, even the Red Cliff Trade Route became unsafe by late September, when the desert underwent a seasonal transformation. Experienced merchants knew they had to pass through early, ensuring their goods could fetch high prices during the route's closure over the following months.
This was Blackwater City's busiest season.
Affluent merchants flooded the city, spurring booming business in every trade. Street vendors shouted their wares from every corner, and even the city's horse troughs at the inns were fully occupied. For these two months, Blackwater City's tax revenue was undoubtedly substantial.
The thought brought a smile to He Lingchuan's lips as he realized he was worrying about his father's duties.
At that moment, someone downstairs requested an audience with the He family's eldest son.
The visitor was from a local gang with connections in both the "red" (legitimate) and "white" (underworld) circles. After being granted entry, he greeted respectfully but remained silent, his eyes darting nervously.
He Lingchuan waved a hand, and the servants withdrew to a distance of three zhang (about 10 meters). Even Liu Baobao tactfully excused himself, strolling off to another box.
Only Uncle Hao remained at his side.
"Speak. What is it?"
The man hesitated before explaining that two travel-worn strangers had arrived at the Zhu Zhi Tavern, asking around about a certain matter.
As a major transit hub, Blackwater City saw countless travelers passing through daily. Naturally, taverns, teahouses, and brothels were the best places to gather information.
The two strangers, however, had made a crucial misstep: they didn't understand the city's local dynamics.
The Red and White gang, despite its seemingly modest rhetoric about "protecting struggling brothers," controlled some of the city's most lucrative businesses—chiefly, alcohol sales.
Unfortunately for the two strangers, they'd walked into a tavern frequented by Red and White gang members.
"They were asking about an injured sand leopard?" He Lingchuan's heart clenched as he heard this. "And they specifically mentioned it being near Blackwater City?"
Trouble had finally come knocking.
"Exactly," the man confirmed, sneaking a glance at He Lingchuan's face before quickly lowering his head. The young master's temple veins were bulging with suppressed anger. "The two had foreign accents, likely from eastern Yuan. When the barkeep told them sand leopards only lived in the western mountains, far from here, they didn't argue. They just offered a hefty reward for any leads, dead or alive."
He Lingchuan leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest as he weighed his options. The encounter on Calabash Mountain had left him uneasy, and now it seemed the shadows of that incident had finally caught up to him.
It wasn't just the leopard. Whoever or whatever had sent those people after it could soon be coming for him too.