Chapter Sixty-Five: The Early Stage of the Four Symbols

The chief, Song Tielin, had already made up his mind: even if he emerged victorious, he would still entrust Liuguang Stronghold to Ye Zihan. Only under his leadership would the stronghold have a future, only then would its people have a chance to rise above, and his brothers would no longer be forever branded as bandits.

Now, sitting in his own chamber, he racked his brains, struggling to find the words he would say to his brothers after defeating Ye Zihan tomorrow. Regardless of their agreement, he was determined to hand over his position to Ye Zihan—no, to Chief Ye!

Within the large house that served as Liuguang Stronghold’s healing quarters, Mo You was already anxiously fluttering through the air. Now only the size of a palm, the room provided ample space for its flight.

Yan Chen, too, was restless. His eyes, bloodshot from a sleepless night, were fixed unwaveringly on that silent figure. The slightest fluctuation of vital energy from Ye Zihan filled him with hope. In his heart, he kept repeating: “Zihan, my brother, don’t let us down. You will break through—you must!”

Their worry was no longer about whether Ye Zihan could face the chief in battle, but whether he had encountered an insurmountable barrier, one he might never overcome in his lifetime.

“If you dare to let me down, Ye Zihan, I’ll tear your bones apart,” Yan Chen’s voice was hoarse. He felt like an anxious eunuch while the emperor remained calm—a testament to how deeply his feelings for Ye Zihan had transcended mere friendship, growing into true brotherhood.

As for Mo You, it darted about the room, muttering, “Isn’t this enough to kill a dragon with worry? Sunset is near, and there’s still no sign of a breakthrough, not even a ripple of vital energy from the chief.”

Man and dragon, both steeped in anxiety, could do nothing but watch helplessly, for breakthroughs were beyond the aid of outsiders.

Night fell once more. Ye Zihan’s figure inside the room never stirred, his vital energy as still as death. Were it not for his breathing, Yan Chen and Mo You might have thought him dead.

At this moment, Ye Zihan was immersed in his own world of cultivation. The exquisite sensations were like music dancing at his ears. He felt as though he were wrapped in cotton, pressed but not pained; rather, he was comfortable, even blissful. There was also a captivating fragrance suffusing the space, blending with the air as one.

He did not know what was happening, but this meditation surpassed any he had ever experienced. After a series of battles, he was now fully focused on absorbing and advancing his strength. Unconsciously, he slipped into this state, not panicking but relishing it, feeling his power grow at a perceptible rate—though for the moment, it remained hidden within.

Unaware of this, Yan Chen and Mo You grew ever more anxious. In the depth of night, Huang He, the seventh headman of Liuguang Stronghold, came to visit.

Given their current opposition, neither man nor dragon welcomed him. When they first arrived at the stronghold, Huang He had fought fiercely in the council hall, and when Ye Zihan sought to claim the stronghold, he had been a staunch opponent. Now, his appearance roused only suspicion and hostility.

Yan Chen was already somewhat angry. If not for these men nominating the chief, Ye Zihan would not have taken it so seriously, nor would he have locked himself away in seclusion, leading to this current state of unconsciousness.

Mo You was even more direct, snapping, “What are you here for?”

Huang He, seeing their stern faces, paused, glancing at the tightly closed door behind them. With a helpless shake of his head, he forced a smile and said, “I only came to check on things, I mean no harm.”

“Hmph! Who would believe that? Are you here to disturb my chief’s cultivation?” As he spoke, Mo You stretched to its full length, wings unfurled, ready for a fight.

Yan Chen, more composed, quickly pulled Mo You back and frowned at the seventh headman. “You’ll see everything tomorrow. Please, return.”

Huang He’s face stiffened; he turned to go, but then seemed to recall something and stopped. “Don’t misunderstand, Yan Chen, friend of the dragon clan. I have no ill intent tonight. I know you must resent my opposition when Ye Zihan wanted to take the stronghold. But this is a land we brothers fought and bled for—how could we just hand it over? Would you, in our place, be willing to give up your home? Would you want to see your chief lose his place?”

At these words, both man and dragon fell silent. Of course, they would not wish such a fate, but with loyalties divided, the words could not be spoken aloud. Mo You, impatient, finally said, “Each serves his master. No need to say more. Tomorrow’s outcome will decide it. If he defeats the chief, the stronghold will carry the Ye name.”

Yan Chen echoed, “Little Mo You is right. That’s all there is to it. We’ll fight by Zihan’s side until the last moment. No retreat—so there’s no need to persuade us.”

They both believed Huang He had come to act as a mediator, and from start to finish gave him no courtesy.

With a somewhat embarrassed laugh, Huang He continued, “That’s not why I came. I’m here to convey a message from the chiefs and headmen. If Ye Zihan can withstand ten moves from the chief without defeat, he will have our recognition.”

“After we returned, we gave it much thought. The chief shared his own views. The brilliance Ye Zihan displays is truly boundless; his future is limitless. In his hands, the stronghold will flourish. Before, we opposed him out of reluctance to see our home in another’s hands, but we no longer wish to live forever as outlaws. We hope someone can lead us to a new life.”

“My message is delivered—please pass it on. By the way, the chief, for reasons unknown, is more serious this time than ever before. He will not hold back; Ye Zihan must give his best.” Having said this, Huang He smiled, turned, and vanished into the woods without looking back.

This news did not relieve Yan Chen and Mo You; instead, their anxiety deepened. It was the dead of night, and Ye Zihan remained motionless, his vital energy undetectable, his breathing so faint that without careful attention one might have missed it altogether.

“Chief, you must wake up…” Mo You’s voice was choked. Yan Chen patted its shoulder, saying, “Zihan is a man of great fortune. No hardship will block his path. By dawn, he will surprise us!”

With nothing else to do, they could only comfort themselves so. They kept vigil through the night, and as the eastern sky began to lighten, the house remained silent. Even Ye Zihan’s breath grew slow and shallow, his vital energy fading, so faint that only their careful watch could detect it.

Yet Ye Zihan felt more at ease than ever, luxuriating in these extraordinary sensations, acutely aware of his power rising at an astonishing rate. He had no idea how much time had passed, only that when his strength reached a certain threshold, the increase finally ceased.

“This meditation must have had great effect. Now, let’s release this abundant vital energy,” he thought to himself, feeling as if he’d filled a vessel with energy, only now deciding to open it.

With the activation of the “Phantom God’s Art,” the energy within him surged forth as if a dam had burst. The power swept through him, so overwhelming that even he was astonished.

Yan Chen and Mo You, who had kept vigil at the door, suddenly brightened. The fading breath of energy within became a raging tide, the aura rising rapidly.

“This…” Yan Chen was overcome with excitement—this was unmistakably the sign of a breakthrough.

Mo You, unable to contain its joy, choked out, “I told you, didn’t I? You have to believe in the chief—he can do it!”

Focusing all his will, Ye Zihan absorbed the surging energy, his cultivation skyrocketing like bamboo after rain.

A shattering sound echoed, like glass breaking. Yan Chen and Mo You, outside the door, exclaimed in unison, “Late Trigram stage!”

But the surge of energy did not subside; instead, it climbed even higher.

“How can this be?” Yan Chen cried in disbelief, while Mo You’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

“The early Four Symbols stage?!”

They shouted together again. Yan Chen felt the world spin—he had struggled to reach the Four Symbols stage, believing himself ahead of Ye Zihan, only to realize he’d not only been caught, but now risked being surpassed.

It was astonishing that someone could leap from the middle Trigram stage straight into the middle Four Symbols stage—a full realm’s difference.

Man and dragon held their breath, intent on the waves of energy, awaiting the miracle they hoped for.