The coin bore the image of a soaring kite on both sides, embossed in fine detail.
The copper coin was a greenish hue, and the bird depicted was thus called a Green Kite.
"Yes, these sacrificial tokens are classified by color," the Tamarisk Spirit murmured, as if recalling a distant memory. Then, it suddenly exclaimed, "Wait! This Green Kite Coin isn't yours!"
The white-robed youth cut in, "I lent it to Mr. Sha."
The Tamarisk Spirit spoke slowly, which made the gray-clad man impatient. "Since you're awake, I'll ask my question quickly, and you can answer just as fast so I can leave."
"Go ahead," the spirit replied.
In this world, mountain spirits—sometimes called land gods—were born in areas dense with spiritual energy and abundant life. When granted official recognition by human rulers, they gained the ability to wield elemental power and govern their domain.
However, if an empire fell or the recognition expired, the spirit's power would diminish, leaving them in a feral state.
Though the Tamarisk Spirit had once been granted authority by Yuan, it had no shrine or worshippers due to its long periods of slumber and neglect of its responsibilities. Local creatures stopped seeking its aid, and over time, its presence was forgotten.
But this gray-clad man's summons was something it couldn't ignore.
Still sluggish from its long sleep, the spirit sensed that the man before it was not someone to offend.
"Forty to fifty days ago, a sand leopard fled here. I need you to tell me its whereabouts," the gray-clad man said bluntly. "Those creatures rarely stray from the western mountains, so it must have been unusual."
"A sand leopard?" The Tamarisk Spirit's voice drew out the words. "Let me check."
The two men waited in silence for over a quarter of an hour.
Suddenly, a small deer emerged from the bushes. It showed no fear, even shaking its head at the men.
"Follow it," the Tamarisk Spirit instructed.
The deer turned and bounded off, and the two men gave chase.
After crossing two peaks, the deer led them to a cliffside, stopping near the edge of a steep rock face.
"The sand leopard came here?" The white-robed youth crouched down, noticing dark stains on the stone.
"Blood, but it's old."
The deer leaned its head over the edge of the cliff.
"It jumped?"
The deer nodded.
Strange. A severely injured sand leopard fled all the way here—why would it leap to its death? The two men exchanged glances and began descending the rocky slope toward the ravine below.
The air at the bottom was damp and cool, the vegetation dense. They searched the area thoroughly but found no trace of the leopard's body.
The white-robed youth gazed up at the cliff. "It was badly injured. Falling from such a height, it couldn't have survived." There were no large trees below to cushion the fall, no vines or leaves to break its descent. "Tamarisk Spirit, is the leopard still in the mountains?"
"If you seek its trail, I'll show you," came a new voice, this time from a nearby beech tree.
The tree swayed in the wind, its branches trembling as if stirred by invisible hands. The leaves and dirt at its base began swirling, forming into distinct shapes.
The wind-carved forms revealed not only a leopard but also a humanoid figure.
"A human?" The white-robed youth was astonished. "Something fell alongside the sand leopard?"
The two figures lay motionless on the ground.
"Did they perish together?" The youth frowned. "But where are their bodies?"
Soon, two more wind-formed shapes appeared, this time resembling human figures.
"Two people came and… killed them?" The youth's expression darkened. "Ah, that explains why my two subordinates never returned!"
Another gust of wind sculpted new shapes.
"A group arrived later and carried the bodies away?" The youth scrutinized the crude figures. They were barely recognizable as human, with indistinct features that offered no clues to their identities.
"Who were these people? Where did they come from?" he demanded.
He repeated the question twice before the beech tree finally answered in a deep, slow voice:
"I don't know. Too much time has passed, and all traces have faded. Only the wind spirits remember this much."
The gray-clad man, undeterred, pressed on: "At least tell us which direction they went after leaving Hulu Mountain."
The beech tree joined two branches and pointed in a single direction.
Their point of origin—
"Heishui City?" The white-robed youth's eyes flashed with cold intent. "I knew it. The missing guards from Eastern Commandery must have found a lead there."
Yet even with this information, they were left with a vague destination. Heishui City was neither large nor small—finding the right lead would still be a challenge.
"They went to Heishui City? That simplifies things," the gray-clad man said with a grin. "The most direct methods are often the most effective."
The forest grew silent as the Tamarisk Spirit withdrew.
The two men walked a hundred steps toward Heishui City when the gray-clad man suddenly halted and unleashed a beam of white light.
A sharp cry erupted from the woods ahead, followed by the frantic flapping of wings.
They approached the source and found blood stains beneath a tree.
The white-robed youth, skilled at tracking, followed the trail another fifteen paces until they discovered a fallen hawk. It was larger than a typical eagle, with its wings and abdomen pierced through. The blood seeping from its wounds was dark green.
"I've felt watched since we left Heishui City," the youth muttered. "Turns out it was this little demon."
He nudged the hawk's neck with his boot. "Who sent you?"
The hawk panted, its beak open in pain.
"Speak." The youth pressed harder. "If the poison reaches your heart, you'll be dead within a quarter-hour."
The hawk let out a screech before gasping, "If I tell the truth, will you let me go?"
"Of course." The youth smiled. "Why would a swan concern itself with a sparrow?"
The hawk wasted no time. "I'm just a mercenary! I was meditating at the Red Mountain Tavern when someone approached me and hired me to track your actions and report back."
"Who hired you?"
"I don't know! I only take the money and do the job!"
The gray-clad man interjected, "Lies. This is a domesticated demon."
A domesticated demon had a master—someone who would demand loyalty.
The youth's gaze turned icy. He stomped down on the hawk without another word.
The next morning, as the He family gathered for breakfast, a servant hurried in with news:
"Two guests have arrived, claiming to be from the Conqueror of the North's army under General Yan Zanli!"
He Lingchuan's heart skipped a beat as he looked to his father. He Chunhua's face tightened with a trace of surprise. "Escort them to the Suhong Hall and serve them tea."
The Suhong Hall was a reception room for formal guests, suitable for small gatherings.
He Chunhua stood and gestured to He Lingchuan. "Lingchuan, come with me."
Both He Yue and Ying Hongchan were taken aback.
Why was the eldest son accompanying the master of the house to meet such important guests?
As the head of the family, He Chunhua didn't need to explain. He simply left with the steward and He Lingchuan in tow.