Volume One: The Dragon Rises from the Wild Chapter Fifty-Six: Wisdom Shrouded in Uncertainty

On the summit of Deer Call Mountain, a hidden cave lay concealed. Though Old Feng Seven had left a map and marked it with secret signs, it would still take considerable effort—and a touch of luck—to find this place. This spoke to Old Feng Seven’s cautious nature; even Jiang Xiong, who had followed him for years, knew nothing of his treasure’s location, nor what precious things might be hidden there.

The entrance was just two feet wide, permitting a single person to pass easily. Yu Ye crouched inside, inspecting the items before him one by one.

Five bags made from animal hides brimmed with gold, silver, and jewels, weighing several hundred pounds, their value beyond estimation. There were also two wooden cases, each over a foot long, weathered and ancient in appearance. Opening the first, Yu Ye found four scrolls of animal skin, records on astronomy, medicine, metallurgy, agriculture, silk cultivation, and ancient legends. The writing was worn, but the texts were mostly intact and still readable.

The second case, upon being opened, made Yu Ye sit flat on the ground, grinning foolishly. Inside was a small pile of luminous stones—twenty-eight in total—which radiated a palpable aura of spiritual energy even before being touched.

How could Old Feng Seven have spirit stones among his treasures? Perhaps, in robbing ancient tombs, he had chanced upon them and, recognizing their rarity, hid them alongside his other valuables.

Yu Ye had been troubled by his lack of spirit stones; now, with twenty or thirty, he could train for a long time. Was this, perhaps, Old Feng Seven’s compensation and hope for him—repaying his toil of recent months and trusting him to fulfill his promise?

Besides spirit stones, there were more than ten luminous pearls and a jade pendant. He was familiar with the pearls—he carried one himself. The pendant was carved from white jade, simple yet elegant; one side bore the characters for “Heaven’s Secret,” the other for “Harmony.” Its purpose and origin were unknown.

Having found Old Feng Seven’s fortune, Yu Ye knew he must now go to North Mang Village and deliver these treasures to his family. He remembered the youngest daughter, Wan’er.

Yu Ye took out a storage ring. With a thought, the five bags and two cases vanished without a trace. Such a small ring was truly remarkable; hundreds of pounds of treasure felt weightless inside. Without it, transporting the gold and jewels would be impossible.

He stood, leapt out of the cave. Dusk had already fallen, perhaps he had lingered too long. He decided to find a place to rest for the night and head to North Mang Village in the morning.

Yu Ye replaced the stone slab, covering the cave entrance, then turned and descended the mountain. Though his journey to Deer Call Mountain had been fraught, his harvest was substantial. In rare good spirits, he used his light footwork technique and swiftly retraced his steps.

In an instant, he reached the base of the mountain.

But when he sought the place where he had tethered his horse, Yu Ye was astonished.

Where was his horse?

He had tied it to a small tree at the forest’s edge below the mountain. The tree remained, but the horse was gone. Looking around, near and far, there was no sign of it.

Where could his horse be?

Yu Ye scratched his head, searching in confusion. When he arrived, he’d seen some women and children cutting grass and tending sheep below the mountain. He hadn’t paid them any mind, simply tied his horse at the forest’s edge. Who would have guessed that, in his absence, the horse would disappear? Unfamiliar with the area, stranded in the wilderness with night falling, where should he search?

He had just found a treasure, barely had time to rejoice, and was struck by this setback—what a mockery.

No, he must retrieve his horse. It couldn’t have vanished into thin air.

Yu Ye returned to the spot, expanding his spiritual sense. He clearly saw hoofprints beneath the grass—messy prints, but pointing in two directions.

He followed them forward.

Across the fields lay a narrow path, which led to the main road. The dirt road was marked by countless wheel tracks and signs of passage, but Yu Ye focused only on his horse’s prints.

Unconsciously, he found himself back in Ping Shui Town.

At the west end of the town, beside the road, stood a solitary courtyard; the hoofprints ended at the gate of this house.

Yu Ye stopped before the gate.

At that moment, a loud neigh echoed from within—the horse had sensed its master’s presence and called out urgently.

Yu Ye’s brow arched, and, lifting his robes, he strode forward, ready to kick the gate open.

So that’s why his horse went missing—it had been stolen.

Just as he raised his foot to break down the gate and seize the thief, he heard the cries of children and women inside, as well as a man’s curses—

“Mother, you shouldn’t have gone…”

“Everyone's gone, why are you wailing…”

“Now the elder is gone, you ask why I cry? You should find someone to handle the funeral, but you’re out gambling every day, and now you’ve learned to steal…”

“Stupid woman, what do you know! Haven’t I been short on money? On the way out looking for cash, I saw a horse tied up in the woods and simply brought it back. Tomorrow I’ll sell it for a good price, then handle the funeral…”

Yu Ye knocked on the door.

“Knock, knock—”

“Oh no, someone’s come looking…”

“Shut up! Who is it—”

The crying stopped, footsteps sounded.

“Creak—”

The gate slid open a crack, revealing a pair of shifty eyes. Seeing the stranger outside, the man slammed the door shut in fright.

Yu Ye pressed gently; the gate swung wide, and a short man stumbled back several steps, falling to the ground.

Yu Ye entered the courtyard.

It was small but tidy, with three rooms. To the east, beneath a tree, the black horse was tied. The saddlebag still held the blue steel sword—it was indeed his mount, which snorted and raised its head at him in greeting.

Beside the main house’s door hung an oil lamp. In the dim light, a bamboo couch was set before the door. On it lay an old woman, eyes closed, cheeks sunken, face blue, breath gone—clearly long dead. Two children, a boy about two or three and a girl four or five, clung to her side, their faces streaked with tears, bewildered and helpless.

The man who had fallen was short and lean, with a short beard, just past thirty—a likely master of the house. A woman hurried over to help him up; both eyed the unexpected guest.

She was evidently his wife, about twenty-seven or eight, her hair disheveled, expression mournful and fearful. She spoke: “Young sir, what business do you have… We have a funeral, it’s inconvenient to receive guests, please leave.”

Yu Ye inclined his body, gestured: “Sister, my horse…”

He meant to take his horse and leave. As long as it was unharmed, he had no intention to press charges against the man for theft. But before he could finish, the man jumped up and shouted—

“I bought that horse in town, what’s it to you?”

Not only a gambler, but a scoundrel.

Yu Ye suppressed his anger. “Brother, that is clearly my horse…”

The man retorted, “Your horse? If you call it, does it respond?”

“You… even if you call, it won’t answer!”

“Hah, why would I call it? Do you take me for a fool like you? It’s in my yard, so it’s my horse!”

“Hmph!” Yu Ye snorted, walking toward the tree.

If he were arguing with someone on the street, he would surely lose. Facing a rogue, whose family was mourning, he could only concede. Still, he intended to reclaim his horse—no one could stop him.

Yu Ye untied the reins and led the horse away.

The man lunged at him, sleeves rolled up, shouting, “Not only do you trespass, you dare steal my horse! You deserve a beating—”

Yu Ye ignored him, pushing him aside. Perhaps he used a bit of force—the man was sent flying over ten feet. Before he could get up, the woman rushed over.

“Help, a robber is attacking—”

Yu Ye, seeing her approach, turned to avoid her, but she fell, grabbing his legs, screaming, “Neighbors, come quick, the robber has killed my husband—”

“Sister, your husband isn’t dead!”

The man was not only alive but unharmed; he pulled his two children over and instructed, “Kids, your mother was beaten, go stop the thief—”

Yu Ye pleaded, “Sister, I won’t hold it against your husband, just let me take my horse!”

“My husband bought the horse, why should you take it?”

She wailed, “Oh, I can’t go on, just kill me—”

The two children rushed over, clutching Yu Ye’s legs, crying, “Mother…”

Yu Ye dared not break free, fearing to hurt them, yet he couldn't leave—sweat beaded on his brow in anxiety.

The man crawled to the main house, knelt by the door, and wailed, “Mother, the robber has come, and I’m powerless. I’ll take your daughter-in-law and grandchildren to join you…”

“Enough—” Yu Ye was forced to shout. “I’ll buy the horse!”

“My dear mother… Ah, are you serious?” The man, called Guan San, was still crying but turned to ask, eyes dry, full of suspicion.

Yu Ye looked at the woman and children, resigned. “I’m serious.”

“This price, no haggling!” Guan San raised a hand, voice trembling.

The woman stopped crying, worried: “Heavens, five silver ingots… The children’s father…”

Guan San glared at her, “Shut up!”

Yu Ye nodded. “Deal.”

“Ah?” Guan San hadn’t expected him to agree so easily. He jumped up, “Hand over the money—”

Yu Ye reached into his clothes, producing five heavy silver ingots.

Guan San looked on in disbelief, but could not resist; his eyes locked on the silver, impatiently, “Give it here—”

Yu Ye ignored him.

Guan San, shrewd as ever, cursed, “Stupid woman, take the kids and get out—”

The woman and children stepped aside.

Yu Ye led the horse to the gate, tossing the silver onto the ground.

The woman saw clearly, hurried to pick it up. Guan San rushed to snatch it, and the two wrestled on the ground, refusing to yield. The children, terrified, burst into tears.

Yu Ye paused at the gate.

Clearly, birds of a feather flock together; the couple truly matched one another.

He bowed to the old woman on the bamboo couch, softly apologizing for the disturbance, then left the courtyard, leading his horse into the night.

To redeem his stolen horse with silver—what absurdity. Yet, instead of anger, he breathed a sigh of relief, feeling both the luck of escape and the inevitability of his plight.

His sword was sharp; his skills unmatched. His Seven Kill Sword Aura could awe any master. Even the cunning Jiang Xiong had died by his hand.

But what of it? Tonight, he suffered a setback that left him helpless. Against a town rogue, a hysterical woman, and two innocent children, he had no solution.

Thus, all things have their limits, wisdom its blind spots. So-called strength does not mean omnipotence.

May the silver left behind allow Guan San and his wife to bury their elder, raise their children, and live a better life.