Chapter 4: Leopard King

As long as we leave no traces behind, then even if someone comes looking in the future, there won’t be any evidence to prove anything.

The very first thought that appeared in He Lingchuan’s mind startled even himself.

This was exactly the kind of thing that the old He Lingchuan would have done without a second thought. But for the new He Lingchuan, something like this still came with a lot of hesitation as it weighed on his heart.

He hesitated briefly before ordering, “Have the Red and White Society find a place to keep them locked up. I’ll go report back to my father.”

The thickest thigh he could cling to was his own father. If trouble came, they would face it together. He was still a minor, after all. His shoulders were not yet meant to carry burdens of this weight.

* * *

When he was just a third of a kilometer from He Mansion, a servant came running toward him. The man looked harried, but the moment he spotted He Lingchuan, his eyes lit up, and he hurried forward to greet him.

“Young Master, the master requests your immediate return!”

“Master,” of course, referred to none other than He Chunhua, the Commandery Administrator of Qiansong Commandery[1].

He Lingchuan broke into a quick stride, heading straight home to see his father.

The He Mansion covered over sixteen thousand square meters. Among mansions and estates, it was neither the largest nor the smallest. However, its architecture was distinctive: black tile roofs, white walls, and delicately crafted pavilions nestled within landscaped gardens. It was elegant and refined, a stark contrast to the rugged style of Heishui City.

For example, the garden gate that He Lingchuan had just passed through had been built in the shape of a porcelain vase. Right behind it stood a fifteen-year-old wintersweet tree, which bloomed in full splendor every midwinter. From the vantage point of the treasure-viewing pavilion at the corner of the garden, it looked as though there were clusters of yellow blossoms bursting forth directly from a vase’s mouth. The view was graceful and dreamlike, as if painted by a master painter.

It was said that only the truly noble families in the inner regions of the state cared for such aesthetic flourishes, but it was apparent that He Chunhua was quite fond of them as well.

In fact, just the previous year, a new worker, ignorant of the lord’s appreciation of such subtleties, pruned the tree and ruined the view with just two careless cuts. The commandery administrator, a man renowned for his gentle temperament, had flown into a rare fury.

Then there were the white walls. The materials used to make the walls were scarce and had to be transported from deep within Yuan—the cost of transporting the materials that far alone rivaled the price of the walls themselves. Worse yet, Heishui City spent seven to eight months of the year under a blanket of harsh winds and sand. In an area where yellow sand loved nothing more than to cling to anything and everything, was it not then asking for trouble to insist on pristine white walls?

However, He Chunhua was adamant about this. To prevent them from turning yellow with time, he even installed a protective array around the outer perimeter of the estate to ward off sand.

Looking at the estate’s fastidious uniqueness, He Lingchuan could not help but understand that his predecessor’s arrogance and pretentiousness were definitely inherited.

As he walked through the courtyard, he spotted the commandery administrator standing by the door of the tool shed, with the ever-loyal steward, Old Mo, at his side.

The tool shed was typically used to store household implements and junk. Only the servants ever entered it, and it was certainly not a place where one would expect to find the lord of the estate. But right now, He Chunhua beckoned him over from the side of this very tool shed. “Come, quickly!”

He Chunhua had assumed the post of commandery administrator seven years ago and was now thirty-four, still in the prime of his life. Standing there, he was the very picture of a tall, graceful gentleman.

Whenever he walked through the streets of Heishui City, he could easily make young women and married ladies alike turn to steal a second glance.

It was only when one got close, as He Lingchuan now did, that one would be able to notice faint silver strands threading through his father’s otherwise jet-black hair.

These past years had clearly taken their toll.

“Father, I have something to—”

He Chunhua raised a hand to cut him off. “Come inside. There’s something I want to show you.”

His expression was grave as he led his son and Uncle Hao into the tool shed. Meanwhile, Steward Mo closed the door behind them and stood guard outside.

Sunlight streamed in, and He Lingchuan saw that the long table, which was usually piled with junk, had been cleared to make room for a massive corpse.

And what now lay on the table was...

“The leopard king!” the young man cried out, unable to help himself.

Father actually ordered it to be brought here?

Lying on the long table was none other than a dead leopard. But this one was massive—comparable in size to a rhinoceros. Even though it lay there in complete stillness, it radiated a suffocating pressure.

If the leopard monster that had fallen into the ravine with him were likened to a molehill, then this beast was like a towering mountain.

Just how powerful was it when it was still alive?

Its fur was a lustrous gold marked with deep black rosettes; it was truly a masterful work by nature. Unfortunately, several gaping wounds had been carved into its body, which was caked with blood and filth.

One of its hind legs was clearly broken. The stench of its blood hung heavy in the air, though curiously, no flies or vermin were present.

He Lingchuan noted that the corpse showed no signs of decay. When he pressed down on the fur, he was surprised to find that it was still soft.

They say a centipede can writhe even after death, but for a leopard king to remain uncorrupted after so many days was a testament to the depth of its cultivation. Its physical body had actually reached a state where it stopped decaying.

Going by that logic, just how terrifying was the one who killed it?

“How long has it been dead?”

“Nearly forty days,” said He Chunhua, lifting one of the leopard’s forelegs. Both He Lingchuan and Uncle Hao could now see that the belly had been split open—it had already undergone a complete autopsy.

“Forty days?” He Lingchuan quickly did the math. “That lines up almost exactly with when I was attacked.”

So that leopard monster wasn’t lying. The leopard den in the Western Mountains really did get wiped out.

“I’ve already had it confirmed. The entire den was annihilated—from the leopard king at the top to cubs not even two months old,” He Chunhua said, pausing for a beat before continuing, “In the time since, merchants passing through the Western Mountains have repeatedly reported sightings of fire foxes. Some were even seen sunbathing in the sand hollows, utterly carefree.”

He Lingchuan gave a thoughtful “oh,” then added, “The Western Mountains were the sand leopards’ territory. They never would’ve tolerated foxes encroaching on their territory. That is, of course, unless something happened to them.”

“Exactly. That’s why I sent people to scout the area. They found thirty-four leopard corpses around the den, along with over a dozen human bodies. Traces of battle stretched across two entire peaks. Most of the dead humans had no weapons and ordinary physiques. Judging by the wounds, they were each killed with a single strike. They were most likely servants of the sand leopards. It took our men five days just to haul this corpse back to the city for dissection.”

It was not strange to find humans inside a monster’s den or lair. Those humans were either food or servants, and they were usually kidnapped commoners. Monsters that had gained sentience often grew fond of creature comforts, and no race could match humans in their fine motor skills and craftsmanship.

But for every last one of them to be so thoroughly silenced, only one phrase came to He Lingchuan’s mind:

Leave no man or leopard alive.

[2]

“Father, why are we only hearing about the destruction of the den in the Western Mountains now? This is far too late!”

He Chunhua took the complaint in stride. “A sandstorm swept across the western side of the Panlong Desert for ten straight days. No one could get close.”

The Panlong Desert was already a man-eating place even when it had normal weather. Add a sandstorm to the mix, and even those most capable would have to sit tight and wait for it to pass.

He Lingchuan rubbed his chin.

There’s no doubt about it. The sand leopards of the Western Mountains were definitely in cahoots with my father.

This was not surprising. Heishui City guarded the Hongya Trade Route, and dealings with the surrounding desert bandits were inevitable. These bandits were not just human, as many were monsters. The sand leopards of the Western Mountains were simply one faction among many.

Qiansong Commandery knew the Hongya Trade Route was a golden goose, and as long as there was profit involved, bandit strongholds would fall only to spring up again faster than weeds. Thus, He Chunhua’s strategy over the years had been a blend of threats and diplomacy, alternating between cracking the whip and offering olive branches. And somehow, this dance of mutual understanding had held up well enough.

He Chunhua had never said whether there were deeper collaborations between them, and the old He Lingchuan had never asked.

1. I know that it’s redundant, but I will be translating it this way as I’m sure it’ll be easier for readers to distinguish between places/regions by doing so. ☜

2. The more common phrase being referred to here is 杀人灭口, which can be translated to something along the lines of “kill all so that there won’t be any witnesses left.” ☜