He Lingchuan's expression darkened.
The incident of the old He Lingchuan falling off the cliff alongside the leopard had been kept under wraps by the He Family. That sand leopard had later been secretly transported back to the city for dissection, and it was discovered that it had already sustained serious injuries before attacking him.
Now, two outsiders had suddenly arrived in town, asking about the sand leopard's whereabouts. This could only mean one thing: They were connected to the people who wounded the monster and ultimately caused the calamity that befell He Lingchuan.
This lead could not be allowed to slip away.
"Where are they now?"
"Still in the tavern. Our branch leader is awaiting your orders."
"Detain them."
"Gladly," replied the messenger with a grin. "Those two strutted in like they owned the place, looking down their noses at everyone. They complained that the wine was sour and the air smelled! Hah, our brothers were already itching to give them a beating."
He Lingchuan hesitated only briefly before rising to his feet. "Lead the way."
He had long accepted that his arrival in this world would not be all indulgence in luxury without toil or consequence.
Since that was the case, he might as well seize the initiative.
Uncle Hao interjected, "I'll go first. Young Master, you can join later." With that, he followed the messenger out.
As for why the Red and White Society was so eager to report this, it had to do with a bit of old favor. Branch Leader Jin had once invited He Lingchuan for wine and opera, and in turn, He Lingchuan had helped connect him to the right people for some business, enough to build some rapport. In small towns like this, the network of relationships was dense and ever-present. Naturally, the Red and White Society also wanted to curry favor with Lord He, the commandery administrator.
When He Chunhua first assumed office, he found Heishui City to be a chaotic, faction-riddled mess. The most lucrative trades were all split among competing powers. As the administrator of the commandery, he desired stability, and given the city's strategic position, he knew that even the shady factions had to be brought under control rather than eradicated outright.
So instead of cutting off their livelihoods and provoking backlash, he issued a local decree—the "Liquor Permit Decree." From that point on, any business that wished to sell liquor needed an official permit from the government.
In short: no permit, no selling booze.
No one dared openly challenge government authority; even the Red and White Society had to fall in line. And He Chunhua, with his skillful combination of pressure and leniency, gradually folded the city's rough elements under his rule, turning Heishui into his own turf.
That was how the He Family stayed informed of every gust of wind and movement of grass[1] in the city.
This was the power of a true local overlord.
* * *
Meanwhile, the two strangers had just exited a teahouse when a fierce gust of wind blasted them in the face. They had not even had time to put on their veiled hats[2] when sand whipped into their eyes, forcing them to squint and curse.
Grumbling, they hurried back to the tavern they were at earlier, ordered hot food and wine, then headed down to the public bath.
Partway through their soak, they suddenly began yawning uncontrollably, overcome by drowsiness. Before long, they had dozed off inside the wooden tubs.
* * *
Splash!
Cold water hit their faces.
They awoke instantly only to find themselves tied to chairs, facing a bare gray wall.
* * *
By the time He Lingchuan stepped into the rear courtyard of the tavern, Uncle Hao was already coming out. His hands were wet, and his expression was grim. "They've already been interrogated. They both confessed."
"Are they still alive?"
Uncle Hao already had a stern face on by default, but with his face even more stern than usual, He Lingchuan felt a shiver in his bones.
"…They are," Uncle Hao replied swiftly. He was rather surprised; that was not the question he first expected to hear from his young master.
Seeing that He Lingchuan was curious to know more, Uncle Hao continued, "They claim to be guards from Donglai Mansion. They say they're here in Heishui under the orders of the Minister of War."
"Donglai Mansion?" The name rang a faint bell. He Lingchuan reached into the memories of the body's former owner to find it.
That guy had been well-versed in food, drink, and martial arts, but had not cared much about politics. However, the term "Minister of War" hit He Lingchuan like a hammer.
He remembered now.
There was only one Minister of War in the entirety of Yuan.
"Donglai Mansion belongs to Dong Haoming, the Pillar of the State, Grand General, and Minister of War. His residence was named Donglai by royal decree." Uncle Hao spoke each word clearly. "He's the father of Queen Dong, and the father-in-law of the King!"
"You're saying that those two are under the Pillar of the State?" He Lingchuan's face changed dramatically. However, he could not help but be confused about something. "If that's the case, why didn't they say so earlier? Why did they wait until they were tortured half to death before confessing their identities? Are they masochists?"
Though they were referred to as guards, they were essentially Donglai Mansion's private soldiers. The nobles in the capital could not legally keep armies, but many powerful lords maintained personal forces under various guises.
The law had grown increasingly lax in recent years. Everyone knew this, but no one spoke of it out loud.
"Their mission is likely classified, and the mansion must have issued them a gag order, ordering them not to disclose their mission to outsiders," Uncle Hao explained, extending his hand. In his palm were two thin plaques, still smeared with blood. "These are Dongming tokens, found on them during the search."
Each token was no larger than a mahjong tile, rounded at the corners, and about as thick as a leaf. He Lingchuan took one and weighed it. Etched on it was the word "Dongming" along with a golden seal.
These tokens were not just for identification; they were also impossible to counterfeit. Their material was unusual—neither metal, wood, nor stone. It looked similar to jade but felt different, with a faint springiness when pressed.
"These should be authentic," Uncle Hao said gravely. "I've seen tokens from Donglai Mansion before. These are exactly like the ones I've seen. The territory of the Pillar of the State has a rare kind of tree. When you strip those trees of their bark, it leaks out a clear, scentless resin. Once heated, it hardens into a translucent material. It's completely unique."
"So these two really are from Donglai Mansion?" Doesn't this mean that I've made enemies with Donglai Mansion? No, wait, it should be Donglai Mansion that's coming after me. I'm thousands of kilometers away, yet I've somehow managed to offend the King's father-in-law?
Even if it were the old He Lingchuan in this situation, he would definitely be sweating bullets right now. He Lingchuan felt a wave of unease churn in his gut. "Why would tracking a wounded sand leopard be considered a classified mission?"
This guy spent sixteen carefree years running wild in Heishui City, living his best life. How come in less than two months since I've taken over, I've already gotten myself tangled up in something this messy?
"They were sent to Heishui City to follow up on leads. That's all they were told. More than ten others were dispatched at the same time, and they fanned out toward the Hongya Trade Route." Uncle Hao then added, "Oh, and these two were originally stationed in Wuzhao Ridge. So they were deployed from there, not Donglai Mansion directly."
Wuzhao Ridge was just across the provincial border, under a hundred kilometers away. It was much closer than the capital.
He Lingchuan gave a nonchalant "Oh," not thinking much of it.
Dong Haoming was someone who commanded real power, and his influence stretched across the realm. It was hardly surprising that he had people stationed in Wuzhao Ridge.
"Will Donglai Mansion send more men?"
"They don't know," Uncle Hao replied, glancing back into the room. "We've gotten what we can. What should we do with them?"
The cleanest solution would be a complete disposal of the two men. No bodies, no trail.
1. This is a literal translation of the idiom 风吹草动, which refers to signs of disturbance. ☜
2. A veiled hat (帷帽) is a type of wide-brimmed hat with a shoulder-length veil hanging. This was one of the most distinctive head coverings during the Sui and early Tang periods. ☜