Samuel Clark’s subordinates were thrown into chaos, all drawing their swords and rushing forward. Andrew Thompson shouted, “All of you, stand back!”

At this life-or-death moment, his wild instincts were unleashed. His large hand gripped the leopard’s neck, and with a sudden twist, he managed to pin the leopard beneath him.

The leopard’s eyes were blood-red, its mouth constantly spewing a pungent, fishy stench. Its neck twisted desperately, and its sharp claws slashed toward Andrew Thompson’s face. Suddenly, it let out a wild howl, then gradually stopped struggling. The light faded from its eyes, replaced by the grayness of death.

Its tail gave a weak twitch, and then it finally lay still. Andrew Thompson slowly pulled the dagger from its heart, then sat powerlessly in the snow, feeling a bit faint.

After a long while, Andrew Thompson stood up, brushed the snow off his body, and smiled at his stunned subordinates. “How much do you think this black panther is worth?”

Ten Samuel Clark soldiers gathered around, discussing animatedly. “The year before last, Edward Sutton killed a spotted leopard and sold it for ten strings of cash. We’ve never seen a black panther like this before—it must be worth even more, at least twenty strings.”

“More than that! Much more!”

The veteran Eric Brooks shook his head. “That was selling to Hu merchants who came to us, so of course the price was low. If we take it to Bahuan City to sell, it’ll fetch at least five times as much.”

Andrew Thompson hoisted the black panther onto his shoulder and laughed. “Alright, then let’s take it to Bahuan City and sell it.”

……

Bahuan City is what is known today as Aksu, about two hundred li from the Sulou Beacon Fortress. It is the capital of the great Western Region state of Gumo. This is the main route from Kucha to Shule, with lush pastures and many rivers, making it a densely populated area since ancient times.

It is also one of the major military strongholds where the Samuel Clark station heavy troops, with a Bahuan garrison established here. That afternoon, Andrew Thompson, Brian Foster, and Deputy Grant arrived at Bahuan City. Deputy Grant, whose name is Steven Grant, is the deputy to William Sutton. He came to Bahuan City to handle the matter of Andrew Thompson’s promotion to fire chief. After entering the city, Steven Grant went off to take care of business, having agreed on a meeting place. Andrew Thompson and Brian Foster took the ram heads and deer antlers to a shop run by Hu people.

Bahuan City is not large, with low, flat-roofed houses mostly built of stone. The entire city has only one main east-west road, leading straight to the royal palace. On both sides of the avenue, various shops are densely distributed, selling gems, silverware, and spices from the Lingxi region, as well as cloth, silk, tea, and grain from the Central Plains. The streets are bustling with people. The Hu people of Bahuan City are mainly descendants of the Wusun. After the Turks invaded from the south, the Anxi region also absorbed Turkish bloodlines. There are also many Han people on the streets, mostly military families, and some merchants from the Central Plains who have opened shops here. As a result, Central Plains-style taverns, inns, brothels, and gambling houses can be seen everywhere.

Argali sheep are considered auspicious animals by the locals. Many Hu people like to hang argali heads in their homes as decorations. Along the way, Hu people frequently stopped them.

“Officer, how about selling me one of those argali heads?”

The Hu man’s Chinese was very clumsy, but the jingling of coins in his purse was music to the ears. Andrew Thompson stopped his horse and smiled, “How much are you offering?”

“Three strings of cash. Deal or not?”

“Three strings gets you a deer head. If you want an argali head, it’s at least four strings.”

“Four strings is too expensive. I’ll add five hundred coins—will that do?”

“No. At least three strings and nine hundred fifty coins, just under four strings.”

“Fine, four strings it is! Let me pick a good one.”

“Heh! Deal.”

As soon as one deal was made, a crowd of Hu people swarmed over, all scrambling to buy. In no time, all the argali and deer heads they had were snatched up, exchanged for a large sack full of gleaming copper coins. Andrew Thompson was overjoyed and said to Brian Foster, “Little Brian, let’s go have a drink.”

Brian Foster hesitated for a moment and said quietly, “Chief, I’d like to go home for a bit, if that’s alright?”

His home was just outside Bahuan City, and since Deputy Grant was off on business, he didn’t want to miss this chance. Andrew Thompson nodded and smiled, “Go on, but come back quickly. We still have to head back this afternoon!”

“I’ll just go home for a look and be right back.”

Brian Foster turned his horse and galloped out of the city. Andrew Thompson, his throat itching, turned and headed to a tavern run by Han people.

“Officer, here for a drink?”

Little Henry greeted him enthusiastically. His Chinese was fairly understandable. Andrew Thompson pointed at the sack, “Help me carry the money inside, and I’ll give you ten coins as a tip.”

“Alright!”

Little Henry happily went to lift the sack, but nearly collapsed under its weight—almost two hundred jin of copper coins. He used all his strength to drag the sack into the tavern.

The tavern was spacious, half the seats already occupied. A Hu serving girl, as graceful as a butterfly, fluttered over to him, leaning against him with a bright smile. “What would the Han gentleman like to drink?”

“Bring me two jugs of the finest Gaochang grape wine, and three jin of spiced lamb.”

“Please wait a moment, Han gentleman. I’ll be right back.” The serving girl flitted away like a butterfly.

Andrew Thompson sat down. After more than a month in the Tang Dynasty, he had gotten used to many things, but he still couldn’t get used to the way people sat. There were no chairs in the Tang Dynasty—everyone either knelt on mats or sat cross-legged on low Hu stools, which made his legs ache unbearably.