Chapter 7: Leopard King

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If someone were to pursue this matter locally later, there would be no witnesses—

The first thought that sprang into He Lingchuan’s mind startled him.

This seemed like something the original owner would do without a second thought, but for He Lingchuan, it was quite stressful.

He pondered for a moment: "Tell the Red-White Path sect to find a place to properly secure him. I will go back and report to my father."

The strongest support he could lean on was his own father. If there was trouble, they would face it together. He was still a minor and couldn't bear such a heavy responsibility on his shoulders.

However, less than a hundred paces from home, He Lingchuan saw a servant from the He Residence running towards him. The servant looked hurried, and his eyes lit up when he saw He Lingchuan. He quickly stepped forward and bowed:

"Young Master, the Master requests you return to the residence at once!"

"The Master" naturally referred to He Chunhua, the Prefect of Qiansong Commandery.

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

The He family estate was a large residence spanning three mu, which translates to two thousand square meters in units He Lingchuan was familiar with. Among the wealthy, it was neither particularly large nor small, but the architecture was distinctive. Black tiles and white walls adorned the exquisite pavilions scattered throughout the garden, a stark contrast to the rough style typical of Blackwater City.

For instance, the garden gate He Lingchuan had just passed was shaped like a treasure vase. Behind the gate, a fifteen-year-old wintersweet tree would burst into full bloom every deep winter. From the View of Treasure Pavilion in one corner of the garden, the scattered yellow plum blossoms appeared to unfurl precisely at the mouth of the vase, graceful and enchanting, as if they had truly grown out of the bottle!

Such refined taste was reportedly cultivated only by the most prominent families in the interior, but He Chunhua particularly cherished it.

Last year, a new artisan, unaware of its significance, pruned the wintersweet tree, destroying this beautiful scene with two cuts. The Prefect, usually known for his good temper, surprisingly flew into a rare rage.

Furthermore, the white wall material for the He Residence was hard to find, specially transported by the He family from the heartland of the Yuan Kingdom, resulting in labor costs exceeding material costs. What's more, Blackwater City is affected by sandstorms for seven or eight months of the year, making building exteriors appear yellowish. Why would one paint a large white wall, inviting dust?

Yet, He Chunhua insisted on it. To prevent the white walls from turning yellow, he even added a magical array around the perimeter of the residence to protect against erosion from sandstorms.

Just by looking at the distinctive nature of the He Residence, He Lingchuan understood where the original owner's independent streak came from.

As he walked through the courtyard, he surprisingly saw the Prefect standing at the entrance of the sundry room, with the loyal butler, Old Mo, following behind him.

The sundry room was mainly used for storing tools and miscellaneous items, and only servants typically entered and exited it; the masters of the He Residence usually kept their distance. But now, He Chunhua waved to his son: "Come quickly!"

He Chunhua became Prefect seven years ago and was only thirty-four years old, in the prime of his life. Standing there, he was still a tall, elegant, handsome man.

Walking through the streets of Blackwater City, the Prefect often caught the eye of young women and newlywed wives, who frequently turned to look at him.

Only when He Lingchuan drew close could he spot a few silver threads among his father's otherwise dark hair.

In recent years, he had also been worn out by worries.

"Father, I have something..."

He Chunhua waved his hand, interrupting him: "Come in, there's something I want to show you."

His expression was solemn as he led his son and Uncle Hao into the sundry room. Butler Old Mo closed the door behind them and stood guard by it.

The daylight was bright, so He Lingchuan saw that the long table where artisans usually stored their miscellaneous items had been cleared, and a massive object lay upon it.

This was...

"The Leopard King!" The young man blurted out. His father had actually sent people to bring it back?

Lying on the long table was indeed a dead leopard. But its size was immense, comparable to a rhinoceros. Even lying still, it exuded a powerful sense of oppression.

Compared to the leopard demon that had fallen off the cliff with him, this one made the other seem insignificant.

How powerful a monster must this thing have been when it was alive?

The leopard's corpse had a yellow base with black spots, and its fur was exquisite, but unfortunately, several large holes had been cut into it, and it was covered in bloodstains.

The leopard's hind leg was also broken. Everyone could still smell the strong scent of blood, but there were no flies buzzing nearby.

He Lingchuan noticed that the leopard's corpse showed no signs of decomposition. When he pressed a hand on it, the fur felt slightly soft.

It is said that a centipede remains active even after death. This Leopard King had been dead for many days, yet its body had not decayed, indicating profound cultivation during its life and a body that had reached an "undefeated" state.

Conversely, how powerful must the opponent who killed it have been?

"How long has it been dead?"

"Nearly forty days," He Chunhua said, lifting one of the leopard's forelegs. Both He Lingchuan and Uncle Hao could see that its belly had been cut open, clearly indicating an autopsy had been performed.

"Forty days ago?" He Lingchuan calculated, "Indeed, that's about before my attack."

That leopard demon was not wrong; the leopard den in West Mountain was truly wiped out.

"I've already sent people to confirm it. The lair of the West Mountain leopard demons was completely wiped out, from the Leopard King down to cubs less than two months old," He Chunhua paused, then continued, "During this time, merchants have repeatedly spotted fire foxes in West Mountain. A few times, they even saw them lounging in the sand pits, looking quite content."

He Lingchuan let out an "Oh": "West Mountain is the territory of the sand leopards; they would never tolerate fire foxes invading, unless something happened to them."

"Exactly, which is why I sent people to scout West Mountain. They found thirty-four leopard corpses and over a dozen human corpses near the leopard den, with battle marks spanning two mountain peaks. Most of the deceased humans were unarmed and of ordinary physique, often killed in a single blow based on their wounds; they were likely the sand leopards' servants. It took another five days for them to bring this leopard corpse back to the city for autopsy and clues."

It's not unusual to find humans in a demon's lair; they are either food or servants, mostly abducted civilians. Intelligent demons also enjoy luxury, and human meticulousness and dexterity are skills other races cannot emulate.

Such a clean sweep made He Lingchuan think of only four words:

Killing (leopards and) people to silence them.

"Father, why has the news of the West Mountain leopard den being wiped out only just arrived? That's too slow!"

He Chunhua was accustomed to his complaints: "A sand tornado blew for over ten days on the west side of the Panlong Desert. No one could get close."

The Panlong Desert was normally a man-eating place, and when sandstorms arose, it became even more formidable. No matter how great your abilities, you had to wait for it to pass.

He Lingchuan stroked his chin, secretly thinking that the West Mountain leopard demons had indeed been secretly in cahoots with his father in the past.

This was not surprising. Blackwater City guarded the Hongya trade route, and naturally had to deal with the surrounding desert bandits. The bandits who raided were not just human; more often, they were demon races, and the West Mountain leopard demons were just one such force.

Qiansong Commandery also knew that the Hongya trade route was a lucrative piece of meat. Driven by profit, bandit dens were wiped out only for new ones to spring up, growing faster than weeds. Therefore, He Chunhua dealt with the large groups of desert bandits within a two-hundred-li radius by both threatening and negotiating, employing both carrot and stick. For many years, their relationship had surprisingly been quite good, characterized by unspoken understanding.

As for whether there was a more complex collaboration between the two sides, He Chunhua didn't say, and the former He Lingchuan never asked.

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