A divine healer, a general, a young marquis! Who can rival them!

A few days passed after the gangrene-ridden schoolboy was cured. During these days, the city appeared calm on the surface, but undercurrents were already surging beneath the surface.

When the gangrene-stricken junior officer awoke, he was extremely grateful and left with the words: "When you return to camp, be sure to tell the brothers about this miraculous doctor from the east of the city who could save lives from saw blades." These words were more appreciated by Yang Hu than any payment for medical treatment. The gates of the military camp were slowly opening towards him.

Jishetang continued its daily routine as usual, with a constant stream of patients seeking medical treatment and its business thriving. But behind the scenes, Yang Hu's hand, which was weaving a net, never stopped. He tightened his grip on that blood-sucking undercurrent.

That night, Liu Ye returned very late. Dressed in short, dark clothes, her brows furrowed with the alertness and weariness typical of mountain people. She entered the secret room in the backyard before speaking in a low voice, "Young master, you followed me out."

Yang Hu put down the medical book in his hand: "Speak."

These days, the task of investigating that hidden ditch has fallen to Liu Ye. She comes from a hunter's background and has risked her life alongside barbarian bandits; her skills in tracking and concealing herself in the mountains are unparalleled. More importantly, she's a stranger; the informants in the city don't recognize her. Yang Hu, the doctor with the face of a divine physician, and Qin Ying, disguised as a medicine boy, can't easily show themselves. Only she can silently follow those shady trucks, meticulously untangling the threads.

"The general store in the south of the city shipped out another batch of goods last night," Liu Ye said. "It was still those wound medicines and hemostatic and tissue-regenerating medicines, two large carts full, leaving the city at midnight. I followed from a distance, not daring to get close."

"Where did you go?"

"Twenty miles north of the city, there's an abandoned old post station." Liu Ye's voice was very low. "That place is remote and deserted, making it a good place to exchange goods. The wagon entered the post station and waited for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn before another group of people came to pick up the goods. That group... wasn't ordinary porters."

"How so?"

"Their method of unloading and loading the packhorses was clean and efficient, showing the discipline of a military unit," Liu Ye said. "Most importantly, by the moonlight, I saw that the person receiving the goods had a badge hanging on his waist. I could clearly see by the moonlight that it was the standard waist badge of the Da Cheng Border Army."

Border guard waist tag.

Yang Hu's gaze gradually turned cold.

The medicine shops in the city, the border soldiers who went out of the city to pick up goods, the caravans heading north... the two ends of this culvert were finally connected by Liu Ye's own eyes: one end was the shady business in the city, and the other end led straight to the large camp in the north.

The money for the medicine came from the city, and the life-saving medicine was sent to the border, all handled by people dressed in Da Cheng military uniforms and wearing Da Cheng waist badges. This was no ordinary smuggling; it was outright collusion with the enemy.

"Did you get a good look at that person?"

"From a distance, I could only make out that he was a strong, muscular man; I couldn't see his face clearly," Liu Ye shook her head. "But I remembered the style of that waist tag. Only people of certain ranks in the border army were entitled to wear it."

Before anyone knew it, Qin Ying, disguised as a medicine boy, also stood by the door. Hearing this, she took over the conversation, her voice familiar: "Anyone who can mobilize a caravan in the dead of night and dares to come out wearing a badge to pick up enemy goods must be of a high rank in the Western Camp. Ordinary soldiers don't have that guts or that authority."

She paused, her eyes growing even colder: "Anyone who can wear such a badge is either a sentry officer or a low-ranking military officer in charge of supplies. This is a stake that hand is extending outwards, a hidden stake driven into the city to receive its smuggled goods."

"Grasp this stake and trace it inwards, and you'll reach the heart of the camp." Her voice was as cold as ice. "Back then, my military report of 'fighting to the death for my country,' and the military intelligence that leaked out and caused me to fall into the ambush, were most likely all connected to this culvert."

This was the hatred she had been holding back for so long. From the granddaughter of the Duke of Zhenguo's mansion to the dead on the roster, from the triumphant patrol to the smearing of ash and disguising herself as a medicine boy, the source of it all lay with that hand hidden deep within the camp. Now, following this hidden mole, she had finally taken another step closer to that hand.

Yang Hu nodded slowly.

The trail moved forward a little further. From the general stores in the city, to the border troops' hidden agents at the old post station outside the city, and then to that large camp, the veins of this bloodsucking underground channel gradually became clearer.

But the true source of that hidden channel, the hand that held absolute power and issued orders from the depths of the camp, remained hidden in the thick fog, not even a shadow of it revealed. Willow leaves could reach the hidden agents outside the city, but they couldn't enter the military camp; Qin Ying knew the ins and outs of the army, but he was a "dead man" who couldn't show his face. What happened inside the walls, those outside could never truly understand.

"We can't rush it," he said in a deep voice. "We can't move this stake right now. It's just a nail at the end of the canal. If we move it, we'll alert the enemy. If that hand pulls back and cuts off the canal, all the clues in the city will become dead ends. It will be as difficult as climbing to heaven to follow it to the source deep in the camp."

What he wanted was not just to find a spy outside the city, but to uproot the hand hidden deep within the camp. This required patience; he had to wait for a legitimate and honorable reason to enter that military camp.

As they were talking, the night watchman quietly passed in a note. It was the note Lu Rou had noticed when Jishetang received medicine during the day. A stranger was asking all sorts of questions, inquiring about the flow of medicinal herbs at Jishetang, the owner's whereabouts, and who lived in his house. He asked these questions discreetly, yet his questions were full of strangeness.

After reading the note, Yang Hu smiled faintly, but his eyes were cold: "It seems that while we're keeping an eye on that hand, that hand has started to watch us too."

He investigated the hidden channel, and no matter how subtle the activity, it couldn't escape the notice of that powerful hand. The reputation of Jishetang was too great, and at this crucial moment, they were searching everywhere for medicine and supplies. How could that all-powerful hand remain completely unaware?

"A tall tree catches the wind," Qin Ying said in a low voice, her brows furrowed. "If it believes we are investigating it, it probably won't just try to trip us up in secret like before."

It's easy to dodge a spear in the open, but hard to guard against an arrow in the dark. The hand that dealt with him before was just a petty trick of cutting off his medicine and picking on hooligans to cause trouble; but if it believes that Jishetang is digging up its roots, cutting off its financial resources, and investigating its treasonous connections, then it is a deadly enemy.

In the city, he established himself, made a name for himself, built his reputation, and won over the medical community, winning steadily and surely. But the truly dangerous contest had only just begun from this moment on. This time, his opponent was no longer a local thug or a disgruntled colleague, but a sinister force capable of leaking military supplies, causing deaths, and hollowing out an entire border army camp.

Yang Hu gazed at the deep night sky to the north outside the window and said, word by word, "If it wants to harm me, that's fine. The more eager it is to make a move, the more flaws it will reveal. What I've been waiting for is the day it loses its patience."

The night breeze swept through the courtyard of Jishetang, causing the lamplight to flicker gently.

A fierce battle, a breathless confrontation between two ferocious beasts, has quietly begun in the shadows of this city. The real battlefield, however, lies deep within the camp behind the wall, a place lacking medicine and medical supplies, and teeming with wounded soldiers.

Yang Hu clenched his fist. He had already prepared his knife and mustered all his strength; he had walked steadily through the city. Now, all that was missing was that summons. A summons that would allow him to carry his medicine chest and rightfully step into that camp.

He had a vague feeling that the summons was not far off.