C23 Linglong Mountain

"Kid, relax. We of Ling Long Mountain are upright folks who never kill without cause." Before Nangong Fan could respond, another gruff voice reached his ears.

Nangong Fan inhaled deeply, but his tense muscles refused to ease. Slowly, he turned to face the newcomers.

Two vastly different silhouettes came into view.

One man stood before him, his physique robust, clad in tight-fitting clothes that showcased his powerful build. Draped over his shoulders was a tiger skin cloak that fluttered in the breeze, giving the impression of a tiger poised to take flight, his presence commanding respect.

A playful smile played at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes sparkled with life. His broad left hand cradled a small bird—the same one that had tumbled to the ground in terror at Nangong Fan's shout. As he stroked the bird's delicate frame, his gaze softened with affection.

The tiger skin-clad man had faint lines on his forehead that resembled the character for "king," though it wasn't pronounced. His entire demeanor radiated regal authority. Anyone meeting him for the first time would never peg him as a mere bandit; he bore the air of someone from a royal lineage or at the very least, a noble household.

Next to him, the tiger skin man's strength seemed modest compared to the bald man trailing half a step behind. This man was a colossus, his arms thicker than Nangong Fan's thighs. His bare torso was not bulky but taut with muscle, clearly a man of immense power. Standing beside him, the tiger skin man, despite his stature, seemed almost diminutive, his kingly air completely overshadowed, replaced by an oddly endearing quality.

Nangong Fan felt a chuckle rising but couldn't quite let it out. The two men, though they contained their auras, still exuded the intimidating presence of untamed beasts. Nangong Fan surmised that they wouldn't need more than a single move to take him down.

"Boss, check out the ring on that guy's finger. Looks like it's the Black Family's insignia from the city. Should we just take it?" The bald man called out respectfully to the man in the tiger-skin, licking his chapped lips with a menacing stare fixed on Nangong Fan.

Nangong Fan's mouth twitched slightly. Was it really okay to discuss such things openly in front of him?

With the situation looking grim, Nangong Fan managed a wry smile and yanked the ring off his finger, hurling it with all his might. The ring cut through the air with a fierce whistle as he slowly backed away. Despite the odds, he had to try to escape. The military camp was close by; a bit of struggle might just earn him a lifeline.

The subtle sounds of the earth's core shifting echoed in Nangong Fan's ears, tempting him to take a chance, despite the high risk of failure.

Thankfully, he had nurtured two spiritual tools within his dantian, and the medium-grade spirit stones were still in his room. The ring's compartments on either side held some dry food and coins—trivialities at this point.

The ring zoomed towards the two men with a howl. The tiger-skinned man raised his hand effortlessly, pinching the ring between two fingers just as it reached him. With a flick, the ring dropped into his palm and, without a second glance, he tossed it back to Nangong Fan.

"Haozi, let's not frighten our young friend here," the tiger-skinned man said with a gentle smile to Nangong Fan, his robust frame exuding a surprising blend of ruggedness and refinement. "You don't strike me as some pampered rich kid, but rather someone with a noble air. I, Xue Linghu, always enjoy the company of such promising young talent."

Catching the ring, Nangong Fan slipped it back onto his finger and exhaled deeply, sensing no ill will from the group's leader. His earlier impulse faded away as he approached the two men with a newfound understanding. These individuals from Ling Long Mountain were likely facing their own challenges with entering the city.

Despite Dragonstone's stringent security, how could they possibly rein in the martial world's insatiable thirst for strength? These warriors, who live on the edge of a knife, are merely biding their time, waiting for clarity. Once the dust settles, they will unleash their full potential. It's possible that Dragonstone, long a bastion of peace, could soon witness an event that will send shockwaves through the martial world with a bloody incident.

Yet, these concerns are for the heads of the powerful families to ponder. Which one of them hasn't weathered their share of storms? Nangong Fan couldn't be bothered with the machinations of these seasoned schemers. After all, he currently lacks the standing to get involved.

"Boss Xue, what brings you to seek out this young man? Are you looking to enter the city? I might be able to lend a hand," Nangong Fan offered, his mind racing, yet his voice remained composed. He had the audacity to speak his mind to the Dragonstone City Lord, a figure of immense power on Earth, so facing the current situation was hardly daunting.

"No need for that. Associating with us bandits would only bring you trouble. At the city gate, I noticed the pity in your eyes as you observed the various heroes of our world, and it piqued my curiosity, prompting me to follow you here. Your display of boxing prowess caught me off guard, and I couldn't help but express my admiration. I apologize if I've intruded, big brother," Xue Linghu said, looking at the approaching Nangong Fan with a nod of respect.

At that moment, Nangong Fan's thoughts were spinning. He couldn't recall the bandit force from Linglong Mountain, having never paid much attention to it before. He had, however, heard of several notorious bandit dens near Dragonstone. Given the capabilities of these two individuals, their influence was likely significant, and they probably weren't from the local bandit groups.

That was a relief. Otherwise, the local bandits might have decided to either kill him on sight or take him hostage. The military's crackdown on banditry was severe. Being recognized as the young master of the Hei family, he would be a prime target for them to either eliminate to bolster their own standing or to capture for ransom in exchange for silver, spirit stones, and support.

With this realization, the tension in Nangong Fan's heart eased completely. He greeted Xue Linghu with a warm laugh, "So, Boss Xue, you're a boxer too?" Upon receiving a nod, he added, "It seems my modest skills have been put to shame in front of a true master."

Xue Linghu's eyes shone with even greater appreciation. It was rare to find a young man who knew he was the gang leader and yet could converse with him so freely. "With that kind of presence, you must be quite well-known in Dragonstone, right?"

"The kid Hei Ze, known in Dragonstone as nothing but a waste," Nangong Fan replied with a self-deprecating chuckle.

"A waste? Brother Hei Ze, it seems you're the type to play your cards close to your chest. Care to join me for a drink or two?"

"Why not?" Nangong Fan's eyes darted around, yet his voice betrayed no hesitation. He still hadn't found a way out. His current weakness was to blame for his predicament.

"Good! You've got spirit, and that makes you someone to reckon with. I'll take you under my wing as my younger brother."

...

As night fell, a well-known wine shop on the outskirts of Dragonstone became a haven for weary travelers. With the high cost of staying in Dragonstone, thrifty merchants preferred to lodge here, selling their wares in the city by day and never spending the night within its walls.

The wine shop was modest, with only four or five tables. Apart from the vacant one in the center, the rest were occupied by strapping men whose eyes occasionally flashed with menace. They called out boisterously, wine barrels strewn about, the air thick with the heady scent of spirits.

"The Boss and the Third Boss are back!" someone with keen eyesight announced.

Over twenty burly men rose swiftly to their feet, standing at attention by the wide-open doorway with a deep-seated respect. They would fiercely defend their leaders' honor if challenged.

Despite their seemingly haphazard arrangement, they strategically covered every blind spot in the wine shop, with particular attention to the windows and entrance. Clearly, they were trained for combat, and even amidst revelry, they remained vigilant.

"Big Brother, Third Brother," they called out in unison, bowing and standing in orderly fashion, giving Nangong Fan the impression of entering a military encampment.

"Brothers, keep drinking. I'll have a few rounds with this young friend," Xue Linghu declared loudly. "Innkeeper, bring out your best dishes and three jars of your finest wine for this table."

"Brother Xue, did we order too much to drink?" Nangong Fan gazed at the towering wine jar with a look of dismay, much like a scolded child, internally bemoaning his predicament.

In his earlier exuberance, Nangong Fan had completely forgotten that he had never actually tasted alcohol. His regret came too late, as he had already been taunted by the boar for lacking spirit and looking down on their bandit lifestyle. They accused him of not seeing them as brothers, laughing at him all the way to this moment.

Yet, it was clear that the boar wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Despite his intimidating presence, there was something endearingly straightforward about him.

Now, staring at the wine vat that was sturdier than his own frame, Nangong Fan's vision darkened. Three vats meant one per person—was this a ploy to end his modest life?

The boar exuded a sense of boldness, shooing away the timid server with a grand gesture. He roared with laughter, "Kid, what kind of warrior doesn't drink? I honor you as a true man. Ordinary folks can't share a drink with us. You're bound to enter the world of martial arts, so let me give you your first lesson. You'll be thanking me for this one day."

The chorus of jeers from the surrounding twenty-odd burly drunks filled the air.

"A man who doesn't drink is no man at all!"

"Can a pretty boy who hasn't even grown a full beard call himself a man?"

"Drink! Drink! Drink!"

The boar, speaking with gusto, grabbed a wine vat and, with a single hand, filled three large bowls to the brim, spilling wine across the table without a care.

"Come on, big brother, little brother, let's drink." The boar lifted a bowl to his lips and guzzled it down, the liquid gushing in. After wiping his mouth, he let out a satisfied bellow, "Ah, that's the stuff!"

Feeling the weight of over twenty pairs of eyes on him, Nangong Fan's cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and pressure. Reluctantly, he picked up his bowl, mimicking the boar's actions, and tipped the contents down his throat.

The fiery taste engulfed his mouth, and the heat shot straight to his stomach. An itch in his throat made him turn and cough loudly, spewing onto the ground. Wine trickled from his nose as tears streamed from his eyes.

"Don't try to be a hero; take it slow with your first drink," Xue Linghu advised, downing the wine in his bowl with a resigned smile.

Laughter from the burly men around them filled the air with good-natured humor.

Nangong Fan felt a twinge of envy for that unreserved joy, that sense of brotherhood. It was like basking in a warm pool, utterly soothing and comfortable.