Causing a ruckus, eating and drinking, flaunting his status, and disrespecting authority—some things about He Lingchuan hadn't changed at all.
"Is that so?" He Chunhua glanced at Ying Hongchan with a meaningful look. "I haven't been home much recently. You've barely had meals with him, have you?"
Ying Hongchan's expression shifted. "Master, it's Lingchuan who doesn't want to stay home! In the past ten days, it's been good if he's come home for dinner twice."
He Chunhua sighed. "You should be more understanding. After all, he's nearly sixteen now."
"Of course," Ying Hongchan agreed readily, as she always did. "No matter what, Lingchuan is still the eldest son of the He family."
When she left for her room, He Chunhua watched her retreating figure and exhaled deeply.
Steward Wu Mo appeared seemingly out of nowhere, taking his place beside him.
Hands clasped behind his back, He Chunhua said, "The men from the Eastern Commandery sent to track the leopard demon vanished upon reaching Heishui City. If this matter is truly important to them, they won't let it rest. I fear there will be more to come."
He sighed again. "But what worries me most isn't this. It's the situation in the east. Our communication with the royal court has been severed for too long. I have a bad feeling… chaos is near."
"Even if it's fate's trial, Master will weather it safely," Wu Mo said firmly. "You always have."
For the next ten days, all was calm.
As the closing of Hongya Road approached, more merchants poured into Heishui City. Governor He grew busier than ever, while communication between Qiansong County and the eastern parts of Yuan remained severed.
Meanwhile, He Lingchuan continued to flaunt his status unabashedly.
Life felt dull, peaceful to the point of boredom. He didn't know how else to pass the time.
Governor He was so swamped that he hadn't returned home for dinner in days. Ying Hongchan didn't bother gathering the two children for meals, so everyone ate separately. He Lingchuan couldn't have been happier with the arrangement.
Compared to his mother, He Chunhua was a saintly father.
Contrary to popular imagination, someone like He Lingchuan—a privileged "official's son"—rarely needed to pay for his own entertainment. For instance, today Liu Baobao invited him to dine at Hongyan Tower, ostensibly to thank him for securing the clearance document that allowed Liu's caravan to return safely.
Though Liu Baobao called it a "simple meal," the table was laden with rare game and delicacies, paired with Liu's prized twenty-year-old wine.
To top it off, the wine was served by Liu's favorite concubine, a woman with alluring almond-shaped eyes that lingered on He Lingchuan. She poured his wine with such eagerness it was almost fawning.
Watching this, Liu Baobao cursed the woman inwardly but maintained an outward expression of regret. "Young Master, must you really wait until eighteen to indulge?"
"Mhm." He Lingchuan put down his braised venison and asked for a plate of pickled peanuts. He popped two into his mouth, chased by a sip of wine.
After nearly two months of feasting on fine meats and rare ingredients, he suddenly found himself craving the simplicity of salted noodles in fermented soup, scallion-sugar biscuits, and large wontons.
In the past, he had survived on these during lean months when loans came due. Now, even seeing a street-side biscuit stall made him itch to buy a second serving.
Perhaps his soul missed it.
It was like how a middle-aged man who had married rich and reached the pinnacle of life might, in the dead of night, occasionally remember the plain and unadorned first love of his youth.
At that moment, a commotion broke out outside.
Liu Baobao had reserved a private room on the second floor of Hongyan Tower, which overlooked the bustling street below. Sitting by the railing, He Lingchuan leaned out for a better view.
He saw the crowd parting rapidly, as two massive steeds charged down the street.
"Hm?" He Lingchuan murmured, immediately recognizing that these were not purebred horses but hybrids with the blood of the bo beasts. Their distinctive features included large heads, sharp teeth, reddish-green bodies, and protruding crimson eyes.
These mounts, called Raging Horses, inherited the bo beasts' swiftness, incredible stamina, and violent temper. Carnivorous and battle-ready, they were prized assets on the battlefield. Even twenty exceptional horses might not equal the value of a single Raging Horse.
Of course, Raging Horses came in varying grades. He Lingchuan's own prized steed, a gift from a small western nation to Qiansong County's governor, was top-tier—but still only on par with the two below.
If the horses were this fine, what of their riders?
The lead rider was a young man in a white robe, around seventeen or eighteen, with sharp brows, bright eyes, and a piercing gaze. Behind him rode a gray-clad figure wearing a bamboo hat, whose face was obscured from He Lingchuan's angle.
Suspended before the white-robed youth was a fist-sized spirit pearl, spinning rapidly. The crowd in front of the horses was pushed aside by an invisible force, leaving a clear path down the center.
The force wasn't gentle. People were thrown off balance, and one stout man toppled onto a nearby stall, flattening a stack of freshly steamed rice cakes.
The vendor, understandably upset, began quarreling with the man.
In this world of mysticism and martial prowess, He Lingchuan was unfazed. He simply chuckled. "Galloping through the marketplace—what arrogance."
In major cities of Yuan, mounted riders were required to dismount and lead their horses. While Heishui City allowed riding, it strictly forbade galloping. Offenders faced twenty lashes and a five-tael fine, with additional penalties for injuries caused.
The locals were as tough as the laws themselves.
Liu Baobao stole a glance at He Lingchuan, silently thinking, Aren't you just the same?
The two riders were nearing the tavern. At the "T" junction below, the crowd thinned as they turned onto a side street. The white-robed youth retracted the spinning orb, likely to conserve his strength.
Just then, a boy dashed onto the street. His rattle drum, knocked from his hand, flew into the middle of the road.
Without hesitation, the boy ran to retrieve his toy.
Right into the path of the charging Raging Horses.
A woman screamed from behind, likely the boy's mother, but the crowd blocked her way, leaving her helpless.
The riders showed no sign of slowing. In less than two seconds, the boy would be trampled under the massive hooves.
Here we go again, He Lingchuan thought wryly. Why are there always kids running under wheels in every world?
Fortunately, he no longer needed to intervene personally.
"Uncle Hao!" Resting his chin on one hand, He Lingchuan lazily pointed downward with the other.
Standing nearby, Uncle Hao silently drew two copper coins and flicked them downward.
The coins struck the ground directly in front of the lead Raging Horse, spaced a few feet apart. If the rider continued at full speed, the horse's legs or belly would likely be hit. The second coin was insurance against the rider deflecting the first.
Uncle Hao's coin tosses were not to be trifled with. He Lingchuan had once seen him use a copper coin to pierce a bear's skull—an act that spoke volumes about his skill and the toughness of a bear's cranium.
Assessing the situation, the white-robed youth yanked hard on the reins. The Raging Horse reared back with a shrill neigh, skidding to a halt mere feet from the boy.