At the end of last year, their grandfather had taken the brothers into a secret chamber to share an important revelation: the Luo family would soon work for an esteemed benefactor. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, he explained, and they must approach it with utmost care. If they succeeded, the rewards would lay the foundation for the brothers' future, paving their path to unimaginable glory and wealth. That was when Luo Zhengchun understood why he and his brother had been made to learn so many peculiar dialects from a young age.
As Luo Zhengchun watched Liu Tianyang approach the covered walkway, an intense hatred welled up within him. This scrawny boy, whom he had once led a group to beat mercilessly in the alleys, now evoked disdain. Back then, Liu had lain on the ground like a dead dog, and if it weren't for someone shouting from the other end of the alley, Luo and his friends would've stripped him and humiliated him further. Yet, Luo couldn't comprehend why these lofty benefactors now regarded Liu Tianyang with such importance. Talk of treasures like armor and sword manuals, as well as lofty ideals like the longevity path and the battle for destiny and fortune, all sounded both clear and incomprehensible to him.
But one thing Luo Zhengchun was certain of: he desperately wanted Liu Tianyang to die right here and now.
The real reason, however, was something Luo dared not admit, nor even think about deeply. Deep down, he feared seeing Liu, someone he considered lower than a dog, rise to a status that mirrored his own family's declining fortunes. It would be unbearably humiliating.
The refined woman sitting above the stairs murmured softly, "He's here."
The tall teenager approached with a confident stride, practicing a boxing form that grew fiercer and more precise with each step. Though his movements were unrefined, there was a glimpse of mastery—a potential to balance strength and softness that hinted at future greatness.
Among martial artists, there was a saying: Without understanding the essence of a punch, one remains an outsider for a hundred years. Once the essence is grasped, even gods and ghosts tremble within ten.
The woman exhaled in relief. This boy was undoubtedly the one they were seeking—his talent was exceptional, even among those in her own clan's ranks. However, she also knew the world was filled with individuals like him.
She stood gracefully and addressed Luo Zhengchun, who was waiting nervously below the stairs. "Go tell that boy what he wants in exchange for handing over the family armor and manual."
As Luo turned, he bowed deeply and replied in a dialect unintelligible to the locals, "Yes, madam."
The woman added, her tone steady, "Remember, approach him with warmth and respect."
Her young son, standing nearby, pointed a finger at Luo and declared coldly, "If you mess this up, I'll flay you alive, strip your tendons, and turn your soul into a candle wick. You'll wish for death long before the flame goes out!"
Luo Zhengchun shuddered violently, bowing even lower. "I won't fail, young master!"
The young girl scoffed from her perch and sneered, "Oh, acting all high and mighty now, huh? I wonder who it was on the way here that was too scared to fight back when called an illegitimate mutt by someone in our field."
The burly elder sitting nearby, whose respect for the woman and her son was already minimal, couldn't resist chiming in, "Miss, that's not entirely accurate. He didn't just avoid fighting back—he didn't even dare to argue."
The boy in the red cloak clenched his teeth, glaring at the girl. His expression darkened before he forced a bright, insincere smile.
The woman, however, remained focused on the path ahead, her face calm and unreadable, her true feelings known only to herself.
The girl huffed, stomped down to the stream below, and squatted to watch the fish swim by. Shoals of carp—red and green—flitted through the crystal-clear water.
Old men in the town often told tales of seeing a shimmering golden carp emerge from the stream during storms. Some said it was small, no bigger than a palm, while others swore it was massive, nearly half the size of a person. These conflicting accounts led children to dismiss the stories as mere ramblings.
Now, the girl leaned over the water, resting her cheeks in her palms, her gaze unflinching. The elder beside her chuckled softly. "Miss, if the Luo family's information is correct, then the great opportunity has already passed to someone else."
She turned and grinned, revealing a missing front tooth. "What if there are two?"
The elder chuckled at her optimism until she noticed her incomplete smile and quickly covered her mouth with her hand.
He shook his head, still amused, but then his tone grew stern. "Miss, remember: the words 'what if' are our ultimate enemy. We cannot afford to entertain luck or wishful thinking. Though you are born into privilege…"
The girl waved a hand dismissively and groaned, "I know, I know, Grandpa Yuan. My ears are going to grow calluses from hearing this."
The elder continued, unbothered. "Miss, I'll go check on the situation over there. Although they are officially our allies, the character of that family's descendants… well, no need to sully your ears."
She waved him off without looking, her focus back on the stream.
The elder, burdened by an invisible weight, bowed his head low as he walked away, his figure stooped as though carrying a heavy load.
Suddenly, the girl rubbed her eyes vigorously. She had noticed something unusual—the water level in the stream was rising, ever so slowly, yet unmistakably visible to the naked eye!