Volume One: The Dragon Rises from the Wild Chapter Sixty: Never Surrender
Dusk settled over the land.
Along the tree-lined avenue, a solitary rider approached from the distance.
Travelers said that a town lay ahead—Greenfield Town; from there, if one traveled ten days north, the borders of Spirit Flood Valley would be reached.
At the threshold of Spirit Flood Valley, one would be nearly home.
A few miles ahead, a stone mountain rose from the earth. On its slopes, sheltered by thick woods, clusters of houses nestled together. The evening glow painted the landscape, smoke curled from chimneys, and a tranquil peace seemed to envelope this rustic village.
Was that Greenfield Town?
Beneath the slope where the town stood, a crossroads marked the way. Heading east from the junction would allow one to skirt the town and continue northward.
Yet beauty lies far away, while chaos presses near.
A crowd blocked the crossroads, their heated argument shattering the calm.
Yu Ye gently pulled his reins, slowing his horse.
Since leaving Pingshui Town, he had journeyed northward. Though unfamiliar with the route, the directions he received kept him from losing his way. He traveled at a steady pace for several days, camping in the wilds to avoid trouble and seize the opportunity to practice his techniques, refining his Armor-Breaking Talisman.
Today, as he neared Greenfield Town, his intention had merely been to buy a sack of grain for his horse, and perhaps some cinnabar, to try drawing his talisman again. Yet someone blocked the road—would he have to detour?
Yu Ye urged his horse forward, curious about those who barred the way.
At the junction, a group of a dozen men argued hotly. On one side, eight or nine martial men brandished blades and crossbows, their manner brash and overbearing; on the other, two men and a woman, all of varying age and appearance, also seemed to be travelers of the martial world, each astride a fine horse and armed, their faces full of righteous indignation.
“Why confiscate our swords?” one demanded.
“My brothers act under the orders of Daoist Master Shan from North Qi Mountain, strictly investigating practitioners everywhere. You must register your names and surrender your weapons, or you will not set foot in Greenfield Town—”
“North Qi Mountain has fallen; what Daoist Master remains? Even if it were so, we are all independent cultivators, not bound by the sects, and will not hand over our swords!”
“Hmph. Listen well: the Eight Great Houses have joined into one sect, and from now on, both independents and disciples are under North Qi Mountain’s jurisdiction. Disobey, and bear the consequences!”
“What consequences? We respect Heaven and Earth, follow the Dao, harm none—what crime have we committed?”
“Arguing with my brothers is useless. If you have the guts, go reason with the high masters of North Qi Mountain. You so-called cultivators look respectable, but are nothing more than thieves and killers, stealing treasures from the immortal sects—”
“Impudent!”
“Hand over your weapons, state your names and origins—”
“Hmph…”
Yu Ye halted a dozen yards away.
The martial men blocking the road had clearly allied themselves with the cultivators of Qizhou.
The other two men and the woman were, unexpectedly, practitioners themselves. Not only that, they seemed to be formidable, innate experts—cultivators who had already refined their qi. Yu Ye had met a few disciples from the Great Marsh Daoist sects before: Bai Zhi, Chen Qi, Zhong Jian, Yan Chi, Mo Can. But to encounter three qi-refining experts at once was a first.
They claimed to be independents?
If the independents of the Great Marsh were so powerful, the sects would not have fallen so far.
As the argument erupted, the leading man suddenly sprang from his horse. With two sharp cracks, the man who had insulted him fell, mouth bloodied. His two companions drew their swords and leapt into the fray.
The martial men, relying on their numbers, swung their blades fiercely. Yet they were no match for the cultivators, and soon were driven off in disarray.
Moments later, only the three cultivators remained at the junction.
The man who had struck first laughed aloud, “To eliminate evil and defend the Dao—this is the way!”
The younger man raised his brows, “How dare these ruffians act so bold? Outrageous!”
The woman, more cautious, urged, “Brothers, we must not linger here!”
“We will heed Sister Meng’s advice.”
The leading man and his companions mounted their horses, then turned back, smiling, “Fellow Daoist, why not join us?”
Yu Ye, still observing, saw the skirmish had ended without fatality, and was quietly intrigued. He was about to head toward Greenfield Town himself, but was surprised to be invited along.
Fellow Daoist?
Could they perceive his cultivation?
“Oh…” Yu Ye hesitated, raising his hands, “I am not a sect disciple, unlike the three of you…”
“Haha!” The man chuckled, blinking, “We are not sect disciples either, fellow Daoist. We too are independents. But heading into Greenfield Town now, you’ll bring trouble upon yourself. To those martial men, we are all of the same kind.”
His companion smiled and shook his head, “You may fool others, but not our eyes. Your sword is no ordinary item, that is clear at a glance.”
The woman murmured softly, “The world is broken, the Dao lost, but as cultivators, how can we stand aside?”
“Come, then!” The man waved his hand, hinting, “Those with destiny walk the Dao together; those without, go their separate ways.”
Yu Ye frowned, somewhat helpless.
No one had seen through his cultivation—but his sword had betrayed him. Though wrapped in cloth, it could not escape the senses of true practitioners.
What did it mean to stand aside, or have destiny or not? The implication was clear: if he did not join them now, he might be suspected of colluding with the martial men, of informing against them.
This was forced companionship, no different from the coercion he’d suffered from Feng Lao Qi and Jiang Xiong. Had he known, he would have kept his distance—who knew that mere observation would invite trouble?
Still, those martial men had suffered defeat and would not let matters rest. Heading to Greenfield Town now would not be wise.
So be it, he would see what these three were about.
Yu Ye squeezed his horse’s flanks, moving forward.
The two men exchanged smiles and spurred their mounts ahead.
The woman lagged a few paces, riding alongside Yu Ye, clearly intent on watching him, lest he change his mind.
Four riders sped through the junction, skirting the town and heading northeast.
After some ten miles, night descended.
Ahead, firelight flickered.
Beside the road, a grove stood; in the clearing, a solitary fire burned, with no sign of others. The lonely flames lent an eerie air.
The two men seemed unconcerned, perhaps expecting it, and stopped, declaring they would camp here.
Yu Ye dismounted, finding a small stream nearby, lush with grass. He led his horse over.
Behind him, a voice called, “Fellow Daoist, since fate brings us together, why not get acquainted?”
The three cultivators sat on the grass, the leading man beckoning.
Yu Ye dropped his reins, considered, then drew his sword from the saddle, holding it as he walked over.
“Yu Xin, qi-refining level four from Heavenly Pill Peak; Meng Qingqing, his junior sister, a qi-refining level three expert. As for myself…”
The trio sat together; the fire burned two yards away, its light illuminating them clearly.
The leading man introduced his companions, and the one called Yu Xin continued, “Tao Fengzi, a house disciple of West Cloud Mountain, qi-refining level five—a true expert!”
“Haha, just call me Tao Mad!” the man laughed, “One must be mad in youth! As for being a house disciple, let’s not speak of that. The sects are gone, we are all homeless now!”
Yu Ye glanced at the three, then at the fire.
Who had lit it?
Greenfield Town was only ten miles off; if those martial men pursued them, the fire would be an easy beacon.
Tao Mad asked, “Fellow Daoist, which sacred mountain do you hail from?”
“I…” Yu Ye stepped forward, saluting, “I am not a sect disciple…”
“Haha!” Tao Mad stroked his short beard, laughing, “We are not martial world scoundrels, so put aside the empty words!”
Yu Xin gestured, “No need for formality, brother. Please, sit!”
Meng Qingqing nodded gently, “The inscription on your sword hilt is from the Xuanhuang sect. We have already seen your origins, but did not judge you for your cultivation or status. Do not belittle yourself; the world is in turmoil, and as cultivators, we must unite and restore the Dao heritage!”
“Ah…thank you!” Yu Ye was at a loss, and merely thanked them before sitting down.
Because of the flaw his sword revealed, he was again taken for a disciple of Xuanhuang Mountain. He let them think so; explaining his true origins would be harder.
Tao Fengzi—or Tao Mad—was in his early thirties, dressed as a martial wanderer, with short beard, spirited eyes, and an uninhibited manner.
A disciple of West Cloud Mountain, with qi-refining level five? At that stage, one could wield flying swords. If true, he was indeed a formidable cultivator.
Yu Xin, about twenty-five or six, wore plain robes, pale and handsome, his manner refined and gentle. A disciple from Heavenly Pill Peak, with qi-refining level four—comparable to Chen Qi, though their temperaments differed vastly.
Meng Qingqing, about eighteen or nineteen, dressed simply, petite and beautiful, her demeanor serene and her words soft. Qi-refining level three, much like Bai Zhi, but lacking her cunning and possessing more sincerity and kindness.
“Where are your fellow disciples from Xuanhuang Mountain?”
“My fellow disciples…we were separated, their whereabouts unknown.”
“Xuanhuang Mountain is far from here; what brings you to these parts?”
“Seeking relatives.”
“Rather than seeking relatives and living idly, why not strive for something great and make your life worthwhile?”
“Oh?”
“Haha, how should we address you, young brother?”
“Yu…”
“No need to worry, Brother Yu. Stay here for the night; decide tomorrow where to go.”
Tao Mad and Yu Xin probed into Yu Ye’s background, hinting at grand ambitions, but did not pressure him. They seemed to wait for him to make his own decision.
Yu Ye sat with head bowed, pondering.
He did not know what these three intended, but sensed foreboding—something momentous was about to happen tonight.
Then he heard—
“Brother Tao, we have no way but forward…”
“Yes, even if there is no retreat, sacrificing ourselves for righteousness, we must drive the Qizhou cultivators from the Great Marsh, reclaim our heritage and continue the legacy…”
“Alas, people everywhere are divided; resisting the Qizhou masters is so difficult…”
“Haha, that matters little; if we cannot defeat the masters, we can at least oppose the qi-refining cultivators. If our grand undertaking fails, we can go overseas, but let the Qizhou masters know: the Great Marsh Daoists will never submit…”
“They’re coming—”
Night grew deeper.
In the dimness, two faint shadows appeared, approaching from afar.
Tao Mad sprang up, his voice low and grim, “The battle begins—Brother Yu, take shelter for now…”