Chapter Nineteen: Dawn in the Night

A fight? What’s going on? Liu Pan frowned. A fight had broken out just after the mountain assignment? He didn’t recall this scene ever appearing in his own book.

Faced with this unexpected turn of events, Liu Pan felt a strange unease. He quickened his pace toward the direction of the commotion. Liu Kuang and Wolf Jackal exchanged glances and followed Liu Pan’s footsteps.

Before long, the three of them found themselves before a rather attractive wooden cabin, from which the sounds of scuffling emanated.

“In broad daylight, they close the door to brawl—what could possibly warrant such enmity?” Liu Pan raised an eyebrow; this development caught him entirely off guard. Before he could ponder the reason, a sudden crash erupted from inside the room, followed by an angry voice:

“You bastard! I’ll remember this debt! The green hills won’t change, the rivers will keep flowing, we’ll meet again someday!”

The instant he heard the voice, Liu Pan was stunned. But before he could fully react, there was a loud “bang!” and the wooden door was smashed to splinters by a heavy kick. A nimble figure darted out from within.

“Damn it!”

At the sight of that figure, Liu Pan immediately understood and couldn’t help but curse under his breath. Instinctively, he turned to run.

Yet, compared to Liu Pan’s attempted escape, there were things in this world swifter—such as the figure that had just burst from the room.

“Big brother, you’re finally here! I just got us a room, and these shameless guys tried to steal it from me. They even beat me up! You have to stand up for me!”

A voice, innocent and tinged with tears, rang out. Liu Pan stumbled, almost falling—not because his legs had gone weak, but because someone had suddenly wrapped their arms around his thigh.

“Damn it!”

He cursed again, wishing he could kick the seemingly harmless youth clinging to his leg.

Liu Kuang and Wolf Jackal, meanwhile, were frozen in disbelief. Clearly, they hadn’t grasped what was happening. When they finally recognized the person hugging Liu Pan’s leg, they were even more bewildered. Wasn’t this the champion of the new disciples’ tournament, Ye Ming?

“What the hell is going on?” This was the silent roar echoing in Liu Kuang and Wolf Jackal’s hearts.

Because Ye Ming’s embrace delayed them, eight figures soon poured from the room, encircling the four of them completely.

“It’s you!” The speaker was a lean man in grey. He paused, clearly recognizing Liu Pan.

Liu Pan was, of course, “familiar” with this man. He was Yang Jiao, the strongest among all Baiyang Sect martial apprentices, who had had several run-ins with the protagonist, Liu Kuang, in the novel.

But this was Liu Pan’s first encounter with Yang Jiao; he had to act as though they were strangers to avoid arousing suspicion. So he said nothing, merely furrowing his brow as he regarded Yang Jiao.

Yang Jiao ignored Liu Pan’s silence, glancing at Ye Ming, still clutching Liu Pan’s leg. With a raised brow, he asked, “Is this your little brother?”

“No.”

Liu Pan denied it outright. What a joke! Though the book described Liu Kuang and Ye Ming as getting along well, Liu Pan had no desire to be associated with Ye Ming. Even though both of them ranked among the top three of the new disciples, Liu Pan had never spoken a word to him.

A young man with dreams walking out from the mountains? If he were ordinary, Liu Pan wouldn’t care. But Ye Ming was anything but ordinary!

Liu Pan looked down coldly at Ye Ming, who clung to his leg. His tone was icy: “What do you think you’re doing?”

He shook his leg, trying to break free, but Ye Ming’s grip was like iron; no amount of shaking helped. Liu Pan felt utterly speechless.

“Big brother, I was just saving you a room! Didn’t you tell me to come down first?” Ye Ming blinked in confusion, looking up at Liu Pan.

Liu Pan almost coughed up blood at the reply.

His cold question had meant, “Why are you hugging my leg?”—implying they didn’t know each other. Yet Ye Ming’s answer was all “big brother” this, “saving a room” that. His words were completely out of context, yet seamlessly delivered, and his innocent face betrayed not a hint of deceit.

For someone raised in the mountains, Ye Ming’s shamelessness was truly beyond compare.

Because of Ye Ming’s words, Liu Pan was certain—even if he killed Yang Jiao, Yang Jiao would never believe there was nothing between him and Ye Ming.

Sure enough, Yang Jiao was momentarily taken aback, then his expression darkened. He looked from Liu Pan to Liu Kuang and Wolf Jackal, and upon recognizing them as new disciples on Peak Eight, his face grew even grimmer.

“All this ‘big brother’ talk, and you claim he’s not your little brother? You play the role well,” Yang Jiao sneered. “You two put on a good show—one second brother, one fourth brother—fighting for half an hour, and the result was so unexpected. If I didn’t know now that you’re all in cahoots, I’d have believed your little match wasn’t staged.”

He turned his gaze back to Liu Pan. “And you—hiding deep, aren’t you? Big brother? What, just arrived on Peak Eight and already eager to throw your weight around?”

Hearing the antagonism in Yang Jiao’s words, Liu Pan frowned. This really wasn’t going to end peacefully.

To be honest, though Yang Jiao was the strongest among Baiyang Sect martial apprentices, Liu Pan didn’t really fear him. He was simply unsure whether he should clash with Yang Jiao at this moment.

In his novel, after the entrance tournament, Liu Kuang, Wolf Jackal, and Ye Ming were all seriously injured from their matches, so when they ascended Peak Eight, they would never have picked a fight with the senior disciples there. Thus, a conflict with Yang Jiao wasn’t supposed to happen here.

But now...

Liu Pan glanced at Ye Ming, feeling a headache coming on. He could guess the reason for this mess.

Because he had conceded directly in the match with Ye Ming, Ye Ming was barely injured. When the tournament ended, Ye Ming, clueless, followed the crowd down the mountain—only to discover it was all for grabbing rooms.

Normally, being first down the mountain wouldn’t matter; there were plenty of houses on Peak Eight. But Ye Ming, without a second thought, picked the best-looking cabin and moved right in.

And that was the problem.

On Peak Eight, there were few residents. Before the new disciples arrived, it was the senior disciples’ territory. Most of the attractive cabins were long occupied by them. So when a senior returned to find his home taken by a new disciple, the outcome was all too predictable.

As for why Ye Ming, after bursting from the room, immediately clung to Liu Pan’s leg and called him “big brother”—that was just as Liu Pan had written him.

Ye Ming’s philosophy was, “If you’re shameless enough, you’re invincible.” He didn’t care about titles like “big brother” or “little brother.” Why did he attach himself to Liu Pan? There were reasons.

First, after the entrance tournament, the sect elder had said Liu Pan understood martial arts better than anyone, which made Ye Ming curious—Liu Pan wasn’t a simple man.

Second, they were all newcomers. Ye Ming had already offended so many senior disciples; to survive on Peak Eight, he’d need allies. In this predicament, he had to drag the other newbies into his mess. Only by joining forces with them could he hope to endure.

Just then, as Liu Pan was about to breathe a sigh of relief, Ye Ming slipped away to stand beside Liu Kuang and Wolf Jackal, asking them nervously, “Second Brother, Fourth Brother, what’s wrong with Big Brother? Why won’t he acknowledge me?”

Second Brother? Fourth Brother?

Liu Pan nearly spat blood, while Liu Kuang and Wolf Jackal were petrified on the spot.

Originally, after hearing Ye Ming, they had doubted Liu Pan’s connection to him. But now, with Ye Ming’s words, all suspicion vanished—they were left with nothing but the urge to cough blood themselves. Just who was this guy?

Compared to the trio’s urge to vomit blood, Yang Jiao only sneered. Ye Ming hadn’t lowered his voice, so every word was perfectly audible.

“So that’s why someone forfeited right after making the top three in the new disciples’ tournament. Turns out you’re all in this together,” Yang Jiao said, his gaze now fixed on Liu Kuang and Wolf Jackal. “I have to admit, you two played your roles well—one second brother, one fourth brother—brawling for ages, with such an unexpected ending. If I didn’t know you were all in league, I’d have believed your match was real.”

Finally, his eyes returned to Liu Pan. “And you—hiding so deep. Big brother, is it? Planning to show off your power the moment you step onto Peak Eight?”

Liu Pan frowned at the malice in Yang Jiao’s words. This truly did not bode well.

In the end, although Yang Jiao was the top among the Baiyang Sect apprentices, Liu Pan didn’t fear him. He just couldn’t decide whether to start a conflict with Yang Jiao right now.

In his story, after the entrance tournament, Liu Kuang, Wolf Jackal, and Ye Ming were all wounded from their matches, so when they ascended Peak Eight, they would never have picked a fight with the senior disciples there. Thus, a conflict with Yang Jiao wasn’t supposed to happen here.

But now...

Liu Pan glanced at Ye Ming, feeling truly exasperated. He could guess the reason behind this situation.

Because he had conceded to Ye Ming, Ye Ming was barely injured. After the tournament, Ye Ming, not knowing any better, followed the others down the mountain only to find out it was all for grabbing rooms.

Normally, arriving early wouldn’t matter—there were plenty of houses. But Ye Ming just went ahead and took the best-looking one.

That was the root of the trouble.

On Peak Eight, there were few residents. Before the new disciples arrived, senior disciples ruled the place, and the best houses were theirs. So when one found his home occupied by a new disciple, the outcome was inevitable.

As for why Ye Ming clung to Liu Pan and called him “big brother,” it was simply his character—shamelessness as a shield. He wanted to tie his fate to the other new disciples, for only by sticking together could they hope to survive the trials of Peak Eight.