Chapter Sixty-One: The Olive Branch (Part Two)

“The secret of the underground lair, I assume Brother Ye already knows—there’s a cache of ancient weapons hidden down there, an unknown quantity. Now, the Temple, Redleaf, Tydin, and our own Shali all have their eyes fixed on it,” Meng Qi said as he poured Ye Ran another cup of wine.

“But I believe there are still things you don’t know,” he continued.

“Oh? Such as?” Ye Ran asked.

He glanced at Sinclair, the blond-haired, blue-eyed man whose muscles knotted beneath his skin. A faint smile lingered on Sinclair’s lips; the wildness in his eyes had faded, but the aura he carried remained undiminished. Seated beside him, Meng Qi seemed almost like his assistant by comparison.

“For example, the different attitudes of the various factions,” Meng Qi explained. “Redleaf Academy will spare no effort to seize the weapons in the lair. As for Tydin Academy… unclear. Shali Academy… might even relinquish its claim.”

“Relinquish?” Ye Ran’s brow arched, sensing a deeper meaning.

Meng Qi nodded bitterly. “The famed masters disdain the ancient weapons of the underground lair, but for us, they’re the perfect means to boost our strength. Watch—if Redleaf takes the lead this time, both Tydin and Shali will suffer in the aftermath.”

Ye Ran asked in surprise, “Redleaf Academy can go all out to grab those weapons—why can’t you?”

“Brother Ye, you’re an instructor at Tydin Academy; do you have the authority to command the Martial Ranking List?” Meng Qi asked.

Ye Ran shook his head, suddenly realizing the significance. Commanding the Martial Ranking List? Only Ronin could manage that at Tydin Academy. Yet not everyone respected Ronin—Elisa, Zhao Kai, and others, for example.

Remembering Sun Jiulou’s admonition to stay close with the masters of the Ranking List, Ye Ran felt he’d overlooked something crucial.

“No, I don’t,” Ye Ran admitted, his face thoughtful.

Meng Qi gave a wry smile. “Neither Sinclair nor I do. So in the confrontations ahead, we’ll inevitably be at a disadvantage.”

The situations at Tydin and Shali were markedly different from Redleaf Academy. The former two appeared strong but were plagued by internal complexity and dispersed power.

Redleaf Academy’s Wang Li, however, was united and focused outward. “Wang Li was born to nobility, a disciple of Lu Yanhe and Gao Taiqing. Coupled with his conduct, he commands absolute authority within Redleaf. While the Temple’s people don’t follow him outright, they cooperate seamlessly. Their strength is formidable.”

“Your Ronin at Tydin exists outside the Martial Ranking List—her reputation is far lesser than Wang Li or Lin Yuan, but her wit is extraordinary. Even the top fighters on the Ranking List and in the Hall of Fame are wary of her. Half of Tydin’s ranking masters follow her, but many don’t see eye to eye with her.”

“Shali Academy lacks even a figure like Ronin. Alas.”

Ye Ran said, “Aren’t you and Sinclair ranked among the top masters?”

Meng Qi laughed at himself. “Brother Ye, don’t laugh at me. Sinclair and I are somewhat known, but compared to the other eight on the Ranking List, we’re not much different. Add in our middling family backgrounds… commanding those people is impossible.”

Ye Ran nodded; in Torrent City, lineage mattered greatly. If not, he wouldn’t have been so easily eliminated during Redleaf Academy’s martial examination.

“It won’t be long before Redleaf’s top fighters enter the lair. Ronin’s team will get their share as well. As for us… we may not even get a taste,” Meng Qi lamented.

Ye Ran nodded, understanding. “I see—you hope we can join forces, so that we’re not at a total disadvantage in the lair?”

Sinclair raised his glass and clinked it with Ye Ran’s. “You’re exactly right, Brother Ye. We came to you hoping we could cooperate this once. To be honest, Meng and I just can’t accept it—why should all the benefits go to Redleaf and the Temple? Meng and I grew up together, shared life-and-death bonds. We’re not the best in debate or martial arts, but we’ve never been cowards. No matter what, we’re determined to wade through these troubled waters.”

He spoke with boldness and pride, and Ye Ran felt his mood stir in response. He drank with them, saying, “I appreciate your trust. My abilities are modest, but I’m a frequent visitor to the lair. This time, no matter what, I won’t miss out. Cheers!”

Meng Qi and Sinclair were overjoyed, and the three drank heartily, not leaving the tavern until dusk.

Rarely encountering such kindred spirits, Ye Ran drank more than usual, though he managed to stay mostly clear-headed. Sinclair drank heavily as well; only Meng Qi kept his composure, escorting Ye Ran and Freya to their carriage before returning to the tavern to help Sinclair out.

The evening breeze stirred. Leaning on Meng Qi, Sinclair exhaled a mouthful of wine and muttered, “Meng, the underground lair isn’t anything special, really. But I just can’t stand those bastards who sneer at us. We’ve come this far on our own merits—why should they look down on us? Why? Why? Why?”

He repeated it three times, his heart full of resentment.

Meng Qi replied, “I understand, Sinclair. I can’t accept it either. Judging by Ye Ran’s expression, he feels the same as us. Working with him against Redleaf shouldn’t leave us at too much of a loss.”

Sinclair shook his head with a bitter smile. “The three of us… all from humble backgrounds. His is even poorer than ours. Still, the gap in strength remains wide. If Sister Yun would help… how wonderful that would be.”

“Sinclair, you know Yun’s calm nature. She has her own views. Let it go. Men’s burdens are ours to shoulder.”

“Hahaha, well said. Men should bear their own burdens.”

…

At the entrance to the underground lair, scattered footsteps approached.

The burly man playing cards stood up, flexing his arms so the tiger tattoo on his back rippled.

A young man in black armor arrived, gripping a long spear. He was a head taller than most, and his presence was imposing.

Beside him walked another young man, tall and slender with sword-like brows and bright eyes, impressive except for three fierce claw scars across his face.

Behind them were two figures cloaked entirely in heavy mantles, their faces hidden beneath iron masks.

Samo Bikchu and Yu Bo.

Tiger Ben, sitting at the long table, recognized the two young men immediately.

“This road is under our control. If you want to pass, pay twenty gold coins,” the burly man with the tiger tattoo demanded, extending a large hand toward Samo Bikchu.

Samo Bikchu’s expression didn’t change. “We’ll pay you—if you dare take it.”

The cloaked man behind him slowly lifted his head and glanced at the tattooed brute. In the instant their eyes met, the brute staggered back in shock.

Samo Bikchu and his companions passed by unimpeded. The one-eyed man tried to block their way, but a sidelong glance at the cloaked figures made his arm fall limp. He grinned sheepishly, “Ah, it’s you… please, go ahead, go ahead.”