The Empress has abandoned me? I'll support a new emperor and destroy your kingdom!

Blackwater Town. Its name comes from the murky, black river outside the town, which emits a faint fishy odor. The town is small, built along a fairly wide official road. It was originally an important post town connecting the borders of Tianming and Jiangqiong, and should have been somewhat prosperous. However, what Su Che and his group saw was only dilapidation and desolation.

The rammed earth road was uneven and full of potholes, with puddles glistening suspiciously with oil. Most of the shops on both sides had crooked doors and faded signs, some even hastily covered with wooden strips. There were few pedestrians on the street, and those who were were mostly pale and hurried along, their eyes filled with wariness and numbness. Occasionally, a ragged beggar would huddle in a corner, casting a murky, greedy glance at Su Che's group, who came with carriages and horses and were covered in dust but whose sturdy bearing was undeniable, before quickly lowering his head again.

The air was thick with the smells of animal dung, rotting garbage, and an indescribable sense of decay. In the distance, the faint sounds of arguing and children's cries added to the chaos.

"This...this is Jiang Qiong?" Pang Xiaopan sat on the carriage shaft, looking at the scene before him, and couldn't help but gasp. He had imagined that the neighboring country, even if not as wealthy as Tianming, should at least have some vitality. How could it be like this?

Zhao Jianing also frowned, his hand unconsciously resting on his waist knife, and whispered, "Sir, something's wrong with this town. It's too quiet, and... there are several pairs of eyes watching us from the shadows." He was a seasoned veteran, and his intuition for danger was exceptionally sharp.

Su Che, mounted on his horse, calmly surveyed his surroundings. Desolation, poverty, chaos, even a hint of hostility. All of this was within his expectations, even "better" than he had anticipated. The more broken the rules and the more power-driven a place, the more cracks there are to exploit, the more space there is to grow.

"Find a place to stay," Su Che ordered briefly. "Find the biggest inn, or the 'sturdiest'-looking shop."

The procession moved slowly along the main street, the monotonous sound of horses' hooves and wheels on the potholed pavement attracting more curious glances. Finally, they stopped in front of a relatively "decent" two-story wooden building. A tattered wine flag hung in front of the building, bearing the two characters "Yuelai," the writing blurred. The facade was relatively intact, and the windows were covered with paper, making it stand out from the crowd on the street.

"This is it." Su Che dismounted. Immediately, two capable guards stepped forward and cautiously pushed open the half-closed shop door.

A warm breeze, a mixture of cheap liquor, sweat, and musty smells, wafted in. The lobby was dimly lit, with seven or eight greasy square tables. Only at the innermost table sat two sleazy-looking men playing drinking games in hushed tones. Behind the counter, a thin, darting shopkeeper looked up. When he saw Su Che and his group, especially their dusty but well-made clothes and weapons, his eyes lit up, and an overly enthusiastic smile spread across his face.

"Oh my! Distinguished guest! Please come in, please come in! Are you here for a meal or to stay the night? We have top-class rooms, hot soup, and freshly brewed wine!" The innkeeper rubbed his hands together as he greeted Su Che, his gaze quickly sweeping over Su Che's face and the carriage behind him.

"I need a hotel. Five superior rooms, good hay for the horses, and two tables of light meals." Pang Xiaopan stepped forward to negotiate, deliberately displaying a merchant's politeness and a hint of barely perceptible arrogance, as if he were just a wealthy merchant caravan passing through.

"Alright! Five superior rooms! Please come in, esteemed guests! Gouzi! Where have you been? Come out and help our luggage, and lead the horse to the backyard!" the innkeeper shouted, and a sleepy-eyed waiter ran out from the back room and quickly helped.

The group settled in. The room looked even worse than it did from the outside; the bedding was damp and smelly, and the furniture creaked. But none of them were pampered, and they quietly tidied up. Su Che chose the innermost room on the second floor, opened the window, and saw the stable in the backyard and a narrow back alley.

Dinner was served at two tables pushed together in a corner of the lobby. The food was simple, consisting of pickles, brown rice, and a few pieces of unrecognizable dried meat; the liquor was cloudy. Zhao Jianing and several guards, using the excuse of not drinking, only ordered water. Su Che and Pang Xiaopan tasted a little of the food and then stopped eating.

The shopkeeper personally served her, subtly inquiring about her background. Pang Xiaopan followed the pre-arranged story, claiming to be a medicinal herb merchant from the south who had encountered bandits and suffered losses of men and goods. She said she was going to the large city of Linyuan to seek refuge with relatives and rebuild her business.

The shopkeeper nodded repeatedly, but a subtle glint of cunning flashed in his eyes. He solicitously offered drinks and food, and talked about local customs and traditions, but his words were full of holes.

Night fell, and the town fell completely silent, save for the sound of the wind and the distant barking of wild dogs. Su Che lay fully clothed on the bed, resting with his eyes closed. Zhao Jianing and several guards took turns keeping watch, vigilantly observing any activity in the corridor and downstairs.

Around midnight, an extremely faint rustling sound, almost blending into the wind, came from the cracks in the door and the walls. A faint, sweet-smelling smoke, tinged with a fishy odor, drifted into the room through the gaps.

Sleeping smoke.

Su Che had sensed the smoke as soon as it appeared. He held his breath and quietly circulated his internal energy to expel the trace amount of toxins he had inhaled. He remained lying still, wanting to see what other tricks his opponent had up his sleeve.

A very faint "thump" came from the next room, like the muffled sound of a person falling to the ground, followed by the soft rustling of something being rummaged through. This happened in more than one room.

Sure enough, it was a shady establishment. And the perpetrators were repeat offenders, skilled in their methods: first, they would use cheap food and drinks to lull them into a false sense of security, then use sleeping pills to knock them out, and finally, they would kill and rob them.

Deliberately light footsteps echoed down the corridor, heading towards his room, the "wealthy owner's" room. The latch was silently pried open with a thin blade.

The door opened, and three dark figures crept in. The one in the lead was the gaunt shopkeeper, holding a boning knife, his eyes gleaming with greedy malice in the darkness. The two behind him were the shop assistant he had seen during the day and a burly man who looked like a thug, carrying ropes and sacks.

"Damn, judging by their clothes and horses, they're easy prey! That young master leading them must have some good stuff on him!" The shopkeeper lowered his voice, excitedly licking his lips. "Hurry up, tie them up first, find out where the money is hidden, then..."

Before he could finish speaking, Su Che, who should have been drugged on the bed, suddenly sat up.

Amidst the horrified gazes of the three, Su Che calmly got out of bed, even smoothing his slightly wrinkled clothes as if he were merely getting up in the morning. The room was dark, save for the dim moonlight filtering through the window, which illuminated his serene face.

"You...you weren't drugged?!" The shopkeeper was horrified, pointing his knife at Su Che, but his hand was trembling.

"A inferior variant of 'Drunken Immortal Powder,' mixed with datura pollen, has a pungent odor and impure medicinal properties." Su Che's voice rang out clearly in the dark room, tinged with a hint of mockery. "Despicable tactics."