Volume One: The Dragon Rises from the Wilderness Chapter Fifty-Five: A Man’s Ruthlessness

Inside the house, six burly men surrounded a young boy. Arrows that had missed their mark stuck from the walls and floor. The boy, who had been sitting on the ground, grievously wounded, now slowly rose to his feet—not only was he unharmed, but he seized his sword with swift hands and spoke coldly, declaring his murderous intent.

"Ha!" Jiang Xiong, momentarily surprised, sneered, "Boy, are you looking for death?"

A flash of blood—one man fell, a sword through his throat; the long knife in his hand clattered to the ground. Jiang Xiong's laughter ceased abruptly, his eyes wide with shock. He glanced at the dead companion, then at the boy before him and the sword, still trembling faintly, unstained by blood. He involuntarily retreated two steps. "You... You're just a mountain kid. How do you know how to wield a sword?"

A fierce glint flashed in Jiang Xiong's eyes, and the bowstring in his hand snapped taut.

At that moment, four companions swung their long blades in attack.

Earlier, perhaps their failure was due to carelessness. Now, five furious men, launching arrows and hacking wildly, besieged a seemingly weak boy. There was no reason for them to fail.

Yet, the unexpected always arrives unbidden.

A faint blue aura shimmered around the boy, repelling arrows and blades alike. Then his sword flickered, scattering blossoms of steel; blood sprayed, screams erupted.

In the blink of an eye, the melee split apart.

The boy stood with sword in hand, its blade still quivering. The four men staggered back, each with a sword wound to the throat, exchanging bewildered, despairing glances before collapsing.

Jiang Xiong too retreated several steps, his wrist pierced by the blade, dropping his bow and crossbow. Yet he still lived. Staring at his dead companions and at the fading glow emanating from the boy, and at the sword that killed without a drop of blood, a sudden realization chilled his heart. He could not help but ask, "You... What is your name?"

Yu Ye stood quietly, one hand behind his back, the other gripping his sword. Under thick brows, his eyes were calm and deep. A dozen feet away lay five dead men, with only Jiang Xiong alive—once his fellow thief, once a cellmate, now his betrayer and foe.

Back then, though Yu Ye was coerced into their ranks, no one ever knew his name or origin.

"Yu Ye."

"Yu Ye... Are you that infamous youth of legend, ruthless and merciless, who slaughters even cultivators?"

Yu Ye snorted, offering no reply.

Suddenly, Jiang Xiong dropped to his knees with a terrified look, pleading, "If I offended you before, it wasn't my fault! Who would have thought you were a cultivator, hiding your strength at such a young age—it's terrifying. If you hadn't acted, I wouldn't have believed..." He slapped himself hard, twice, blood and tears streaming from the force. With a pitiful, regretful face, he lamented, "They say it's better to bully an old man than a poor youth. I was blind. Kill me!"

Jiang Xiong beat his chest, raising his bloodied, tear-streaked face, and declared heroically, "Come, strike me here! It will lift your anger. Fate brought us together; whatever our grievances, this life is all I have—take it!"

His words were honest, his expression tragic, offering his life to settle the feud. Such chivalrous spirit could not fail to move one.

Yu Ye seemed to hesitate, then raised an eyebrow. "Stand up, answer me a few questions."

A glimmer of hope flashed in Jiang Xiong's eyes; he jumped up, nodding quickly. "Yes, yes, I won't hide a word!"

"Are you sure this is Feng Lao Qi's hidden treasure?"

"It should be. I asked him about it, and he said all his accumulated wealth was stored in Ping Shui Town by Deer Cry Mountain. This house is his only residence."

"Did you find the treasure?"

"Ah, I've searched the entire yard, inside and out, several times. Dug three feet deep—found nothing. Otherwise, I wouldn't have waited for him to return. Wait, weren't you with him..."

Yu Ye interrupted, "Feng Lao Qi is dead."

"You killed Feng Lao Qi?" Jiang Xiong looked astonished, but then nodded approvingly, "Good kill! If it were me, I would have done the same, forced him to give up the treasure!" He raised his fingers in praise. "A man must be ruthless—brother, I like you!"

Yu Ye frowned. "There's nothing left to say between us."

"Oh..." Jiang Xiong rolled his eyes, testing, "If that's so, I'll be on my way?"

Yu Ye's gaze lowered, silent.

Jiang Xiong quietly breathed a sigh of relief, stepped back a few paces, clasped his hands toward the corpses, and with a tearful voice said, "Brothers, we'll meet again in the next life!"

He turned hurriedly to leave the house.

Suddenly, there was a rush of wind from behind—a stabbing pain in his chest. He was like a punctured sack, his energy dissipating, unable to stand.

Staggering, Jiang Xiong caught himself at the door, staring at the sword protruding from his chest. "You didn't kill me to my face—why strike from behind?"

A cold voice from behind answered, "I couldn't bring myself."

Blood spurted onto the door as Jiang Xiong, despairing and furious, retorted, "Boy, you're ruthless, you're evil, you're despicable..." His eyes rolled back, and he slowly knelt to the ground.

Yu Ye approached, drew his sword, and faced the carnage—his face pale.

This was not his first kill.

Feigning injury to lure Jiang Xiong out, coaxing him to reveal the truth, then slaying him from behind—it was all planned. He had sensed movement outside the courtyard and set a small trap.

It was his first time using a snare and trap to kill—and his first time being cursed so bitterly.

Had he become ruthless, evil, despicable?

Yu Ye of Yu Family Village was not such a man.

Jiang Xiong's character was clear: he had witnessed him betray friends and forsake loyalty for gain. If spared today, cultivators from Qizhou would soon discover Yu Ye's whereabouts. Such a shameless man dared accuse others of being despicable?

Bah!

Yu Ye couldn't help but kick Jiang Xiong's kneeling corpse, flipping him over. He exhaled bitterly, his gloom dispelled.

So what if traps were used?

Kindness to others, respect for elders, care for the young—these are mountain folk's virtues. But against wolves and tigers, one must fight with all means necessary.

Yu Ye picked up the scabbard, feeling light and unburdened as he left the house. Yet, in the courtyard, worry returned to his face.

He had yet to find what he sought—he could not leave empty-handed.

Yu Ye opened the side rooms, searching each in turn, but found nothing. Dusting off his clothes, he returned to the courtyard.

According to Jiang Xiong, he had searched the place for months and found no treasure. Now Yu Ye was equally empty-handed—was Feng Lao Qi lying, or was the location wrong?

But Feng Lao Qi's last words should not have been a lie, nor should the place be wrong; otherwise, Jiang Xiong would not have waited so long.

Yu Ye paced, unable to resolve the puzzle.

If he truly could not find Feng Lao Qi's treasure, he would have to go to Beimang Village empty-handed. Fortunately, he still had some silver and gold, which he could give to Feng Lao Qi's family.

Yu Ye returned to the house, examined the corpses, found some scattered coins, tore a piece of cloth to wrap them, then headed out. As he lifted his gaze, he noticed the artificial rock in the courtyard and slowed, his expression sharpening.

Beyond the rock, one could see Deer Cry Mountain in the distance. The artificial rock and Deer Cry Mountain mirrored each other's shapes.

Yu Ye quickly took out the animal skin left by Feng Lao Qi.

No wonder the rock was so ugly—it had been piled to resemble Deer Cry Mountain. On the map sketched on the animal skin, the depiction of Deer Cry Mountain seemed careless, but upon close inspection, there was a faint ink dot at the deer's head.

Yu Ye put away the skin, walked to the artificial rock, examined it carefully, then kicked it hard.

With a rumbling crash, the tall rock collapsed, stones scattering everywhere. No treasure appeared, nor did the foundation reveal anything unusual.

Yu Ye nodded, not wasting any more time, and vaulted over the wall. Outside, he walked to a tree, retrieved his horse, then glanced back at the tightly closed house before riding away.

Soon, he passed the old tree where he had come.

The tea seller recognized Yu Ye, his face suddenly anxious.

Yu Ye paid it no mind, tossing the bundle of coins onto the tea stand. "Brother, your tea money!"

Without waiting for a reply, he rode out of town, seeking a wild mountain path, heading straight for Deer Cry Mountain.

Three to five miles, and he arrived in moments.

At the foot of the mountain, he dismounted and continued on foot.

Deer Cry Mountain was barely a hundred feet tall, only a few miles around, yet rugged and overgrown with trees and grass.

Unable to find a path, Yu Ye plunged into the woods, leaping and weaving upward, startling a flock of birds into the sky.

After the time it takes incense to burn, he reached the summit.

The mountaintop was sparse, offering a sweeping view. Looking north, Ping Shui Town was laid out below, and he could faintly see the house he had left behind—a place that would remain empty and abandoned, its six corpses slowly rotting away.

Deer Cry Mountain rose higher to the east and lower to the west; at the head, two or three hundred feet away, two massive stones jutted up like a deer's ears.

Yu Ye approached.

The mountaintop was dozens of feet across, seemingly ordinary. Yu Ye circled the head several times, inspecting every stone and blade of grass. Climbing atop, his eyes brightened.

Between the two large stones, amid the pile of rocks, lay a flat stone, dust and weeds covering it, yet its uniqueness obvious.

Yu Ye glanced around, squatted, and gently shifted the stone, uncovering a slate.

Beneath, layers of waterproof oilcloth.

Peeling away the cloth revealed an opening.

The opening was barely two feet wide, but inside, it measured five or six feet across, filled with a pile of items.

Yu Ye breathed a sigh of relief, a smile curling at his lips...