Chapter Fifty-Nine: Beyond One's Control

After pondering for a moment, Yan Chen finally asked, “Brother Song, earlier you mentioned that you once didn’t dare even to kill a chicken. How is it that you’re now the leader of a mountain stronghold?”

Song Tielin was momentarily taken aback, clearly not expecting such a question. Huang He, standing beside him, was also stunned for a second, then chuckled, helping his chief to explain, “Do you really think anyone in this world willingly becomes a notorious bandit? Those who choose this path have no other way—driven by life’s hardships or by the oppression of others.”

Huang He spoke with a smile, but to Ye Zihan and Yan Chen, his words struck a chord of melancholy. All their lives, they had believed that bandits were villains beyond redemption, but now it seemed the real culprits were those who forced good men onto this path, and the merciless world itself.

The two of them, though they had suffered their own share of hardships, had not experienced the depths of pain that these seasoned men had. At this moment, they could sense the sorrow and regret behind Huang He’s smile—stories that would move anyone to tears.

“Let’s not dwell on these matters,” Song Tielin said heartily. “You two brothers have helped Liuguang Stronghold drive off powerful enemies. Tonight, we should drink heartily and forget the past. Not a sip less until we’re all drunk!” Huang He agreed with a laugh, and together they each took an arm of Ye Zihan and Yan Chen, leading them into the depths of the forest.

Deep within the woods lay a clearing, on which stood several dozen houses. The other leaders of the stronghold were all there, each bearing wounds, with a group of injured men gathered behind them.

“This is the healing base of Liuguang Stronghold,” Huang He explained. “All our wounded rest here in peace. The soldiers and the scoundrels from Qingshui Stronghold have never found this place, so it remains safe.”

“Come, brothers, let’s meet our benefactors!” Song Tielin called, and the men all rose and approached.

Ye Zihan and Yan Chen were just preparing to respond when the group spoke out in unison, “Our deepest thanks to you, brothers, and to our friend of the Dragon Clan. Words cannot express our gratitude. All of Liuguang Stronghold’s people will remember your kindness. If ever you have need of us, we would gladly face death or fire to repay you.”

No sooner had the words fallen than all present dropped to one knee in perfect unison, including the chief and the seventh leader. Every face radiated sincerity, without a trace of pretense.

“Please, this is too much for us—you must rise!” Yan Chen and Ye Zihan hurried forward to help them up, and only then did the others stand.

“We were but the spark that set things in motion…” they began, but Song Tielin interrupted, “I’ve said before—even if it hadn’t been you, someone else would have come to light the fuse. We’re truly glad it was you, for you’ve helped us resolve troubles that have plagued Liuguang Stronghold for years.”

Unlike Liuguang Stronghold, Qingshui Stronghold had not been around for long; it had risen in recent years. Their methods were far more ruthless—robbery, pillage, unspeakable crimes. They were the true scourge of the land, reviled by all. For years, the two strongholds had been at odds, with many clashes and skirmishes. Their territories were separated by only a low ridge, and the Water-Splashed Hollow between them was heavily guarded—each side’s most crucial defense.

This latest battle was the first of its scale. Qingshui Stronghold had allied with the soldiers for a pincer attack. Without Ye Zihan, Yan Chen, and the startling power of the Blood Phantom Dragon, the outcome might have been reversed, and Liuguang Stronghold might have been the ones wiped out.

That was why the leaders showed such sincere gratitude, caring nothing that Ye Zihan and Yan Chen had been the spark, but rather feeling lucky it was them.

“Come, Brother Ye, Brother Yan, and our friend of the Dark Dragon Clan—let’s move to the room in the back and drink our fill!” Song Tielin led the way, with the second and third chiefs following close behind.

Ye Zihan, Yan Chen, and the palm-sized Mo You followed after them, and the other ten leaders, after giving a few instructions, joined as well.

The room at the very back was the largest in the healing base, easily accommodating a dozen or more people. The furnishings were simple—just tables and chairs. Everyone sat around the table, and soon wine jars and delicious dishes were being brought in one after another.

“Brothers of Liuguang Stronghold, let us toast our two young guests and our friend from the Dragon Clan!” Song Tielin stood and raised his cup, followed by the other two chiefs and the ten elders, all drinking in one go.

Ye Zihan and Yan Chen stood, offering their thanks before draining their cups as well.

Mo You, now back to his original size of over ten feet long, was still small enough for the spacious room. With his left claw, he seized a wine jar; with his right, a roasted duck. Mouth greasy, he grumbled, “You grown men are so fussy—so many toasts and courtesies. I’ll just keep eating; leave me out of it.”

Ye Zihan frowned slightly and nudged him, “Mo You, mind your manners.”

Song Tielin waved it off with a laugh. “Brother Ye, don’t blame our Dragon friend. He’s right, after all—men shouldn’t stand on ceremony. We should drink in great bowls and eat meat by the chunk! Among brothers, there’s no need for formality.”

With that, he took up a wine jar and drank deeply. The others paid no mind to Mo You’s words, each raising their jars and drinking freely.

Mo You, after all, was a dragon—a beast, not bound by human etiquette or complex customs. All that mattered to beasts was directness and gratification: swift in action, swift in vengeance. This was a trait all demon beasts shared.

After three rounds, the wine had loosened every tongue. Mo You, having downed five jars, was already rambling, his childish voice ringing out, “Drink… more wine… no one goes home sober tonight…”

Ye Zihan could only laugh helplessly and continued to toast with the others.

The chiefs addressed Ye Zihan and Yan Chen as “brothers,” but they called the dragon “friend”—for the bloodline of the Dragon Clan was exalted and proud, and it would not do to call them brother. So, “friend” sufficed.

Yan Chen let out a tipsy hiccup, then asked Song Tielin, “Brother Song, I have always loved hearing stories. Can you tell me what your life was like before you became chief of this stronghold?”

At the mention of the past, a flash of pain and rage flickered in Song Tielin’s eyes, quickly masked by a smile. “Very well, I’ll tell you how worthless and weak I once was.”

“I was born poor—three generations of my family had been. By my time, things were just beginning to look up; we owned three acres of good land. But fate is fickle, and there are always wicked men. That year, I was eighteen, and so was she. We were in love and married, living with my parents in simple happiness. But disaster struck. There was a local tyrant in our village, in league with the village head, and together they did unspeakable things, tormenting the people.”

“One day, my wife went out and ran into the tyrant. He set his sights on her, gathered some men, beat me senseless, and then accused me of gambling debts I never owed. At the yamen, the village head shielded him, declaring that I had defaulted and demanding our land as collateral. But that land had been in my family for generations—how could I give it up so easily? Those heartless fiends knew I would refuse, so instead they demanded my wife as collateral…”

“After that… after that…”

At this point, Song Tielin’s voice choked with emotion. Who says men do not weep? It is only that their hearts have not yet been truly broken.

The events that followed were all too easy to guess. The other two chiefs and the ten elders fell silent, and the only sound in the room was Mo You’s drunken rambling.

Sometimes, life leaves men with no choices. Song Tielin’s story was but one among countless others. Every man in Liuguang Stronghold, every so-called bandit, carried a past too painful to remember.

If there had been any other way, who would run to the mountains and become an outlaw? Who would willingly bear a name cursed by all?

In the eyes of the world, the word “bandit” was synonymous with the worst of evildoers, the lowest of the low.

Song Tielin suddenly shook off his gloom and laughed loudly. “But today is a great day! We’ve destroyed Qingshui Stronghold, routed the soldiers, and proved the might of Liuguang Stronghold. Why sit here brooding and sorrowful? Let the past blow away like the wind! Tonight, we drink—none shall leave sober!”

With that, the room erupted into laughter. These were men of open hearts and bold spirits, able to cast off their bitter pasts with a single laugh.

Ye Zihan and Yan Chen exchanged a glance, then joined in the laughter, unwilling to disappoint their hosts. They tossed away their wine cups, seized jars, and drank deeply.

“Drink… more wine… I want more meat… delicious meat…” Mo You, now thoroughly drunk, babbled in his childish voice.

“There’s plenty, as long as you can eat it!” one of the leaders joked.

Flushed with wine and seeing Mo You so inebriated, Yan Chen boasted, “This little dragon talks big, but can’t hold his liquor. What a weakling!”

“What… did you say? Want to see the power of a true Blood Phantom Dragon?” Mo You retorted.

“But aren’t you drunk?” Yan Chen muttered, shrinking back.

“Hmph, you just wait and see—my invincible little dragon punch…”

“Oh, so you’re just talking nonsense. You scared me for a moment…”

The others burst into laughter at the sight of Yan Chen patting his chest in relief. Some of the leaders whistled and cheered, the room filled with good-natured noise.