Chapter 4: Leopard King

If someone were to pursue them here another day, there would be no witnesses.

The first thought that sprang to He Lingchuan's mind startled him. While it seemed like something the original He Lingchuan could easily do, it put considerable pressure on the current He Lingchuan.

He pondered for a moment. "Have Hongbaidao find a suitable place to hold them," he instructed. "I'll return to report to my father." His father was the strongest pillar of support he could lean on; they would face difficulties together. He was still a minor, and his shoulders couldn't bear such a heavy responsibility alone.

***

Sure enough, less than a hundred *zhang* from home, He Lingchuan saw a He family servant hurrying towards him. The servant's eyes lit up upon seeing him, and he quickly stepped forward to bow.

"Young Master," the servant exclaimed, "the Master has ordered you to return to the residence at once!"

The "Master" was, of course, He Chunhua, the Prefect of Qiansong Prefecture.

He Lingchuan quickened his pace, hurrying to meet his father.

The He family residence was a sprawling estate covering twenty-five *mu*, or over sixteen thousand square meters, a size considered neither particularly large nor small among the wealthy. Yet, its architecture was distinctive: black-tiled roofs, white walls, and intricate pavilions nestled within the gardens. This style stood in stark contrast to the ruggedness typical of Blackwater City.

For instance, the garden gate He Lingchuan had just passed was shaped like a treasure vase. Behind it, a fifteen-year-old winter plum tree would burst into full bloom every deep winter. From the Treasure-Viewing Pavilion in one corner of the garden, the scattered yellow plum blossoms appeared to bloom precisely from the vase's mouth, their graceful form truly making them seem as if they had grown directly from within it.

Such artistic sensibility was said to be a hallmark of only the most prominent families in the interior, yet He Chunhua cherished it deeply. Last year, a new craftsman, unaware of its significance, pruned the winter plum with two cuts, obliterating this beautiful scene. The Prefect, usually known for his good temper, uncharacteristically flew into a furious rage.

Moreover, the materials for the He residence's white walls were difficult to source; the He family had them specifically transported from the heartland of the Yan Nation, with labor costs ultimately exceeding material costs. Given that Blackwater City experiences sandstorms for seven or eight months of the year, usually coating buildings in a yellowish film, painting prominent white walls seemed impractical and prone to attracting dust. Yet, He Chunhua insisted on it. To prevent the white walls from turning yellow, he even had a magical formation specially installed around the residence's exterior to protect against sand erosion.

Simply by observing the unique nature of the He residence, He Lingchuan understood where the original owner's unconventional ways had come from.

As he walked through the courtyard, he unexpectedly saw the Prefect standing at the entrance to the storeroom, accompanied by his loyal butler, Old Mo. The storeroom was typically used for tools and miscellaneous items, frequented only by servants, and usually avoided by the masters of the He residence. Yet, He Chunhua was now beckoning to his son. "Come quickly!" he urged.

He Chunhua had become Prefect seven years prior and, at only thirty-four, was in the prime of his life. Standing there, he remained a strikingly handsome man, tall and elegant. Walking the streets of Blackwater City, the Prefect often caused young women and married ladies alike to turn their heads. Only when one got close, as He Lingchuan did, could one notice a few silver strands mixed among his father's otherwise dark hair. These past years had clearly taken their toll on him.

"Dad, I have something to discuss..."

He Chunhua waved his hand, interrupting him. "Come in," he said, "I have something to show you." With a grave expression, he led his son and Uncle Hao into the storeroom. Butler Old Mo closed the door behind them and stood guard beside it.

In the bright daylight, He Lingchuan saw that the long table, usually cluttered with the craftsmen's miscellaneous items, had been cleared. Upon it lay a massive object.

"This was..."

"The Leopard King!" the young man gasped in disbelief. His father had actually sent someone to bring it back?

Lying on the long table was indeed a dead leopard. Yet, its immense size, comparable to a rhinoceros, gave off an overwhelming sense of power even in stillness. The leopard demon that had fallen off the cliff with him paled in comparison to the one now before him. How powerful must this creature have been when it was alive?

The leopard's carcass had a yellow base with black spots, and its fur was exquisite, though marred by several large holes and covered in bloodstains. Its hind legs were broken, and a strong metallic scent of blood still lingered, yet strangely, no flies or insects hovered nearby. He Lingchuan noticed no signs of decay on the leopard's carcass. He reached out and pressed it; its fur felt soft to the touch.

They say a powerful creature, even after death, retains its essence. This Leopard King had been dead for many days, yet its body showed no signs of decay. This indicated its profound cultivation during life and that its body had reached a state of "invulnerability." Conversely, how formidable must the opponent who killed it have been?

"How long has it been dead?"

"Almost forty days," He Chunhua replied, lifting one of the leopard's forelegs. Both He Lingchuan and Uncle Hao could see that its abdomen had been cut open, evidently for an autopsy.

"Forty days ago?" He Lingchuan calculated. "Yes, that's roughly when I was attacked." That leopard demon hadn't been wrong; the Sand Leopard den in West Mountain had indeed been massacred.

"I've already sent people to confirm," He Chunhua stated. "The Sand Leopard demon stronghold in West Mountain was completely wiped out, from the Leopard King down to cubs less than two months old." He paused, then continued, "Recently, traveling merchants have repeatedly spotted fire foxes in West Mountain. On several occasions, they even saw them lying in sand pits, basking in the sun, looking utterly content."

He Lingchuan murmured, "West Mountain is Sand Leopard territory; they would never tolerate fire foxes encroaching, unless something significant had happened to them."

"Exactly," He Chunhua affirmed. "So I sent people to scour West Mountain. They found thirty-four leopard carcasses and over a dozen human corpses near the den, with signs of battle spread across two mountain peaks. Most of the deceased humans were unarmed and of ordinary physique, often killed by a single blow judging by their wounds; they were likely the Sand Leopards' servants. It then took my men five more days to bring this leopard carcass back to the city for autopsy and clues."

It was not unusual to find humans in demon lairs; they were typically abducted civilians, serving either as food or as servants. Intelligent demons, too, enjoyed comforts, and human meticulousness and dexterity were skills other races simply couldn't replicate.

Such a complete annihilation brought only four words to He Lingchuan's mind: Eliminating all witnesses.

"Dad, why has the news of the West Mountain Sand Leopard den's massacre only just reached us?" He Lingchuan pressed. "This is far too slow!"

He Chunhua, accustomed to his son's complaints, replied, "There's been a sand tornado raging for over ten days on the west side of the Coiling Dragon Desert; no one could get close." The Coiling Dragon Desert was typically a perilous place, and when a sandstorm arose, it became even more formidable. No matter how powerful one was, they would have to patiently wait for it to pass.

He Lingchuan rubbed his chin, silently acknowledging that the Sand Leopard demons of West Mountain had indeed been in a secret understanding with his father. This wasn't surprising; Blackwater City guarded the Red Cliff Trade Route, inevitably leading to dealings with the surrounding desert bandits. These raiding bandits included humans, but more often, they were demon tribes, with the West Mountain Sand Leopards being just one such faction.

Qiansong Prefecture also knew the Red Cliff Trade Route was a lucrative prize; as long as there were incentives, one den of bandits would be wiped out only for another to emerge, sprouting faster than weeds. Therefore, He Chunhua dealt with the numerous desert bandits within a two-hundred-li radius by both striking and intimidating them while also negotiating and co-opting them—a strategy known as "combining coercion with conciliation." Over the years, their relationship had surprisingly been good, marked by an unspoken understanding.

As for whether there was a more complex cooperation between the two sides, He Chunhua never said, and the original He Lingchuan had never asked.