Chapter Two: Conflict

The path leading from the small town to the back mountain was usually traversed by only a handful of people, but at this moment, it was crowded with a group of youths. Their mocking laughter broke the usual tranquility of the trail, echoing above for a long while.

A girl’s eyes burned with scorn and anger as she stared at the shameless individual before her. Turning away, she tried to leave and rid herself of his harassment.

But the moment she turned, a fleeting look of surprise lit up her still-young face, quickly overtaken by deep worry.

Noticing her sudden change, the others followed her gaze.

Drawing nearer was a thin figure, step by step closing the distance. When the boys recognized his face, sly, gloating smiles broke out among them.

“Well, you picked the perfect time to show up,” said Ye Wei, curling his lip as the approaching figure hurried closer. A mocking smile tugged at his mouth as he shifted his gaze back to the girl, continuing, “Ling’er, you can still change your mind and agree to my terms. Otherwise—heh—your brother’s bound to suffer for it.”

Ye Ling turned back, her delicate brows knitting tightly as her lovely face filled with struggle. Then, as if making a momentous decision, determination flashed across her features. Just as she parted her lips to answer, the thin figure suddenly stepped in front of her, shielding her with his body and facing the crowd.

The sudden appearance of this familiar back, coupled with the urgent voice in her ear, silenced the words she had been about to say.

“Ling’er, don’t agree to anything that bastard Ye Wei says!”

Ye Cheng had arrived in the midst of the brief exchange and overheard Ye Wei’s threat. Though he didn’t know exactly what Ye Wei wanted from Ye Ling, he could well imagine nothing good would come of it. Considering Ling’er might actually agree for his sake, Ye Cheng hurriedly interrupted, then slowly lifted his head to glare at Ye Wei.

Looking at the face he had so often dreamed of punching, Ye Cheng ground his teeth. Cold, biting words squeezed out between them: “You… are utterly shameless, pulling such tricks.”

His unexpected retort stunned those present, even Ye Ling behind him, whose face showed rare surprise—she had hardly heard her brother curse before.

Ye Wei’s sneer faded into a dark scowl. “Looks like you didn’t learn your lesson last time,” he growled.

He cracked his neck, poised to strike.

“Sorry, I can’t remember what lesson you mean, though I vaguely recall someone’s pants splitting wide open,” Ye Cheng replied lightly, recalling their last fight. Though he’d ultimately been beaten unconscious, he’d managed to tear Ye Wei’s pants, exposing the other’s pale backside. A faint smile appeared on his lips.

A few of the other youths started snickering as they remembered the incident—some had clearly been present. Those who hadn’t were quickly filled in, and soon even their gazes toward Ye Wei turned odd.

Only Ye Ling, standing behind her brother, remained completely bewildered.

Ye Cheng’s words made Ye Wei flush with humiliation and rage, his fists clenching tightly beneath his sleeves. The stares from those around acted as a fuse, igniting the fire within him. As the grandson of the Ye family’s Grand Elder—a power in Luoyang Town—Ye Wei had always lorded it over others. Never had he been mocked like this in public.

“Die!” he roared.

Ye Wei’s eyes bulged with fury as, to Ye Ling’s cry of alarm, he planted his back foot and launched forward. His fist shot toward Ye Cheng’s chest, propelled by the rebound.

Ye Cheng, having anticipated the attack, dared not let his guard down. As Ye Wei’s fist swelled in his vision, he tightened his own hand into a fist. Even though Ye Wei hadn’t drawn on his bloodline power, his strength far surpassed that of ordinary people who hadn’t awakened their bloodlines.

“Heh, Ye Cheng’s finished—how dare he anger cousin Ye Wei,” a youth from the Grand Elder’s faction commented as the fists closed in on each other. The rest looked on with malicious delight.

After all, among their peers, Ye Wei was indisputably number one, having already reached the Minor Stage of the Blood Qi Realm. Ye Cheng, on the other hand, hadn’t even awakened his bloodline and ranked near the bottom.

A resounding thud echoed as their fists collided. Ye Cheng was forced back several steps.

Step… step… step—

To everyone’s astonishment, even Ye Wei was pushed back three steps by the recoil.

Shaking the numbness from his arm, Ye Cheng narrowed his eyes, thinking, This bastard really is tough to handle—his strength is daunting even without using his bloodline. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Years of absorbing vital energy hadn’t been for nothing; though, for some reason, he’d never managed to awaken his bloodline. Still, his physical strength exceeded that of ordinary people by a fair margin—but compared to those who had, like Ye Wei, the gap remained significant.

“I didn’t want to bully you with my bloodline, but it seems I’ve underestimated you. Who’d have thought someone without a bloodline could be this strong?” Ye Wei massaged his sore fist, his face stormy as he continued, “But next, heh, I’ll show you what sets us apart.”

Ye Cheng understood immediately—this time, Ye Wei meant business. A trace of unease flickered inside; he had seen bloodline power before, and the last time Ye Wei knocked him out, it was using that very force.

Under the crowd’s eager gaze, bloodlines began to surface on Ye Wei’s arm—one, two… dozens of crimson lines crawled across his flesh, surging with power that made the air heavy. As the strength built, his eyes on Ye Cheng grew ever darker.

Seeing Ye Wei’s bloodline-wreathed arm, Ye Ling hurried forward, blocking her brother and declaring, “Ye Wei, you’re going too far!”

Ye Wei frowned, a mocking smile curling his lips as he looked at Ye Cheng behind her. “How disappointing—you only know how to hide behind a woman.”

“Ling’er, let me handle this. As your brother, how could I let you protect me?” Ye Cheng said softly, feeling a warmth at her concern. Gently, he pulled her behind him despite her resistance.

Clutching his sleeve tightly, Ye Ling’s voice trembled, “Brother, don’t fight him—you can’t win against that bastard Ye Wei.” Her delicate face was etched with worry and anxiety, tears brimming in her eyes. The sight was heart-wrenching.

Ye Cheng turned back, offering her a reassuring look and gently pushed her aside, hoping to keep her safe from the coming clash.

Now separated from Ye Ling, Ye Cheng faced Ye Wei, who grinned and lunged forward, his fist aimed straight at Ye Cheng, employing a mid-level martial technique. The air howled with the force of it.

“Crushing Fist!”

In Ye Wei’s mind, he could already see Ye Cheng being effortlessly beaten.

But in that instant, a blurred silhouette flashed between them, intercepting Ye Wei. A hand snapped out, seizing Ye Wei’s powerful fist in its grasp, to the outrage of those watching.

Ye Wei’s fury spiked at having his triumphant blow so abruptly halted—until he saw who had intervened. Instantly, his aura faltered, and the arrogance he’d shown seconds before vanished without a trace.

Staring at the man before him, Ye Wei’s expression grew complicated, and he addressed him with deference:

“Third Uncle.”