Volume One: The Wild Boy Chapter Fifteen: Born of the Same Root

The vast expanse of snow stretched endlessly, the horizon swallowed by white. Upon this boundless land, the bandit army of Mount Yi was surging toward the southern face of Mount Si.

"Ziliang," Zhang Yi called, but Lin Changtian, still unaware that the bearded Zhang Yi was using a false name, gazed serenely at the sky. Zhang Yi called his name several times, but Lin Changtian did not respond. Instead, Zhang Yi followed his gaze, only to find nothing but emptiness ahead—what could he possibly be looking at?

Zhang Yi, who had clawed his way up to the position of second-in-command in the bandit stronghold, was no simpleton. Yet this man, who could remain unruffled before Yu Wenlong’s scheming, was utterly baffled by Lin Changtian’s demeanor. Lin Changtian watched the sky, while Zhang Yi watched him.

Time passed, no one knew how long, before Lin Changtian seemed to return to himself. He glanced curiously at Zhang Yi, who was staring at him. “Big Brother, being looked at like that makes me uncomfortable, you know.”

Zhang Yi, relieved to finally get a response, hurried to speak. “Brother Ziliang, you have the bearing of a true master—gazing into the distance as if to sweep across the land. I must say, you have the air of a conqueror.”

“Big Brother,” Lin Changtian interrupted, puzzled, “I just didn’t get enough sleep this morning and was catching up. Keeping your head down isn’t good for circulation, you know.”

Zhang Yi coughed violently, as if choking on water or on his own words.

“Yes, yes, of course I know. Ziliang, I actually came to you for serious business. Usually, when we discuss major actions like attacking Mount Si, all the leaders plan together. But today, the chief clearly had a plan prepared well in advance. What do you make of that?”

Lin Changtian smacked his lips, savoring the satisfaction of a restful nap before replying, “The chief’s plan certainly sounds impressive, and its essence is speed. For secrecy’s sake, his actions are understandable.”

Zhang Yi nodded. “Brother Ziliang, you’re thinking exactly what I am.”

“But the problem,” Lin Changtian continued, “is that this plan offers too many opportunities for trickery.”

Zhang Yi nodded again. “Exactly, exactly. Go on, Brother Ziliang.”

Lin Changtian’s eye twitched, but he continued. “First, if we attack the eastern, western, and northern outposts simultaneously and you, as second-in-command, lead a force to the south for a surprise assault—on paper, there’s nothing amiss. If all goes as planned, the main forces of Mount Si will be drawn to the other fronts, and if we’re lucky, we might lure the tiger from its den. But what if, during our surprise attack, the other three groups slacken their assault or retreat entirely? With the terrain of Mount Si, it’s we who would be surrounded. Or what if we only attack two fronts, not three, and in our surprise assault we face twice the enemy? The outcome would be nothing like what the chief described.”

Zhang Yi kept nodding. “Brilliant, Brother Ziliang. You’ve read my mind exactly—great minds think alike, as they say.”

Lin Changtian rolled his eyes, beginning to doubt whether his own thick skin even ranked in this northern domain. Zhang Yi, seeing Lin Changtian’s speechless face, seemed to understand his thoughts. He changed his tone, smiling, “Ziliang, do you know what my relationship with Brother Lyu Liang is?”

With gravity, Lin Changtian replied, “Big Brother, just for Brother Lyu Liang’s sake, you treat a stranger like me as your own—surely, it must be a bond tested by life and death, as sacred as the oath of Peach Garden.”

Zhang Yi’s smile grew broader. “Funny thing is, I know everyone in this stronghold, but I just can’t recall anyone named Lyu Liang. Isn’t that strange, Brother Ziliang?” With that, he left Lin Changtian standing there and strode off to inspect the troops. In his haste, Zhang Yi failed to notice the fleeting cunning in Lin Changtian’s eyes, as if he had predicted this all along.

...

Mount Si stood stark and abrupt in the snowy wilderness, towering into the clouds like a coiled serpent, earning the name Devouring Python Mountain. Yet the lands surrounding Mount Si were open on all sides, blurring the line between the python devouring the world and the world toying with the python.

The bandit army of Mount Yi was in position. As dusk deepened, all waited for the chief Yu Wenlong’s signal. When the last ray of sunlight vanished in Yu Wenlong’s shadow, this warlord among the bandits launched a new chapter of chaos in the southern reaches of the Northern Domain.

Years before, the clamor of gunfire had shaken the earth itself. The bandits of Mount Yi now howled as they charged Mount Si, the enemy’s agonized cries beneath their own artillery making it seem as if Yu Wenlong’s surprise attack would turn the decade-long foe into helpless lambs. But the defenders of Mount Si were no common rabble—they quickly rallied, launching a brutal counterattack down the mountain. The bandits, who had advanced unimpeded, now faced their first deadly trial. Countless comrades fell upon the path of assault, only for more to follow, shrieking as they trampled over their fallen, each one fierce and fearless.

Here in the Northern Domain, survival was never easy. The lowliest crawlers wagered their lives as capital—only then did they have a chance to wrestle with fate. This was the unchanging law of the north for a thousand years.

As the artillery roared in the distance, Zhang Yi trembled—not from fear, but from excitement. His innate ferocity surged with the carnage. Eyes bloodshot, Zhang Yi stared toward Yu Wenlong’s command tent. From the start, he had never intended to assault Mount Si’s southern face. Instead, he planned to use the chaos as cover to strike directly at Yu Wenlong and claim the leadership of Mount Yi for himself.

Zhang Yi knew the southern warlord too well. The first second-in-command who had helped Yu Wenlong seize power had died under mysterious circumstances during just such a surprise attack. That was why, for ten years, Zhang Yi had feigned simplicity while displaying unmatched courage, securing his place as second-in-command. He had gone to great lengths to plant a spy at Yu Wenlong’s side—the alluring woman from that day. Through her, Zhang Yi learned of Yu Wenlong’s suspicions, bringing these two erstwhile partners to this fateful clash.

Suppressing his excitement, Zhang Yi remembered the price of his ambition. He had even secretly forged an alliance with Mount Si, offering up his own troops on three fronts as a sacrifice to ensure his success.

At that moment, the signal for Zhang Yi’s supposed southern assault shot into the sky. Simultaneously, Yu Wenlong and Zhang Yi both smiled, each looking deeply toward the other’s location. The game had begun anew.

“Brothers! All of you here have fought at my back, side by side with me, Zhang Yi, to this day. Now, the old fox Yu Wenlong wants to use a ruse to kill me. Who among you will help me slay him and claim Mount Yi as our own?”

“We await your command, chief!” the bandits who had followed Zhang Yi for years roared back, as if their day of glory had arrived. Seeing his men’s fighting spirit, Zhang Yi grinned. “Kill!” he shouted, leading the charge toward Yu Wenlong’s camp.

Though Lin Changtian had long suspected Zhang Yi’s ambition, this abrupt reversal caught him off guard. For a moment he stood stunned, being swept along by Zhang Yi’s men toward Yu Wenlong’s camp.

...

The forces assaulting the outposts had been annihilated. The defenders of Mount Si surged down the slopes, encircling Yu Wenlong’s camp together with Zhang Yi’s forces.

The thunder of artillery that had filled the snowy wilderness fell silent, leaving only smoke drifting across the land. Before the two armies, Yu Wenlong and Zhang Yi locked eyes for a long time, neither speaking—until at last Yu Wenlong broke the silence.

“Second Brother, you struck hard this time. I suppose all our brothers who charged up Mount Si are gone now.”

Yu Wenlong’s eyes were clouded, his back hunched—a sign of defeat in Zhang Yi’s eyes. He said nothing, merely watched Yu Wenlong. When the latter’s back bent even further, Zhang Yi finally replied, “Weren’t you the one who wanted me dead, Big Brother? In the end, I was forced into this.”

Yu Wenlong sighed, “You’ve spent no small effort for your ambition today. That girl by my side—she was yours, wasn’t she? Working in league with Mount Si—you’re bargaining with the tiger itself.”

A mocking smile spread across Zhang Yi’s face. “No need for your concern. As for that peony, didn’t I warn you to be wary of her?”

Yu Wenlong snorted. “Did you really think I didn’t know? Did she not tell you what I said?”

“All she told me was that you wanted to test me. After all, a woman could never truly fool you. But that was enough.”

Yu Wenlong straightened as much as he could. “I am old. According to the rules of Mount Yi, a change of power is always accompanied by deception and fratricide—that’s the way it’s been since the stronghold’s founding a hundred years ago. I only wanted to see if you had what it takes to be master of Mount Yi! But we have decades of blood feud with Mount Si, and yet you dared to ally with them. Zhang Yi, you clearly do not intend to let me hand over power in peace.”

Zhang Yi regarded the aging warlord with contempt. “They say a dying man speaks kindly, but I know you too well. Enough with the honeyed words—just make your peace and be on your way.”

Yu Wenlong’s expression grew calm. “Second Brother, you still can’t control your impatience. The outcome is not yet decided. Aren’t you curious where all the Awakened in our stronghold have gone?”

Zhang Yi sneered. “Surely you know that those few useless men of yours couldn’t last ten breaths against me.”

“But did you know,” Yu Wenlong’s voice grew cold, “that in my eyes, your followers are no more than ants? Crushing them would take but an instant!”

As if to prove his words, a clear blue aura enveloped Yu Wenlong. His presence gathered, his once-clouded eyes blazing with golden light that pierced the soul. Rising skyward, it was clear—Yu Wenlong was a Boundary Master.

His robes whipped in the wind as he stood beneath the heavens, looking down on those below who could barely hold their weapons. He basked in their terror, leisurely strolling through the hail of bullets fired in fear. Wherever Yu Wenlong passed, the men beneath him fell like grass before a scythe. In the blink of an eye, a vacuum of death surrounded Zhang Yi.

For the first time in ten years of lurking, the warlord felt true, bone-deep terror.