Chapter Eight: The Trapped Dragon Will Rise

“We can’t waste it—this is the only two pennyworts I managed to find, and I’ve already used one,” Shanpao exclaimed. Then his eyes fell to Ye Xin’s thigh. He reached out with his left hand, pinched the fabric around the wound, and tore it open, then slapped the herbs in his right hand onto the exposed flesh.

Damn it… Ye Xin forcibly suppressed the urge to send Shanpao flying with a punch. After all, the man meant well; he couldn’t go overboard.

“You can take care of your face yourself,” Shanpao said, tossing the pouch to Ye Xin. He still couldn’t fathom why Ye Xin was so averse to the medicine cakes he made.

Ye Xin, knowing the herbs’ effects as well, picked up a palm-sized river stone, spread the herbs upon it, and ground them into a pulp with another stone. Soon, a mound of herbal paste was ready.

“You’re making it so complicated,” Shanpao scoffed at Ye Xin’s methods.

Ye Xin ignored him and applied the mash to the wound on his cheek.

“By the way, Black Robe, how long have you been in Tianyuan City?” Shanpao asked.

“Almost two years now,” Ye Xin replied.

“That’s nothing,” Shanpao said proudly. “I’ve been here over twenty years. I was running wild in these woods before I even wore pants. The whole ancient forest and wetlands are like my backyard—I know everything there is to know. Even the fiercest beasts, I’ve dealt with them all.”

“Heh…” Ye Xin let out a dry chuckle.

“What, you don’t believe me?” Shanpao’s brows knit together.

“Tell me, have you ever met a Spirit Ape?” Ye Xin asked, mainly challenging him. The Spirit Ape was a legend, a beast at the apex of the ancient forest’s food chain—elusive, immensely strong, its hide impervious to blades and arrows. Not even the killing blows of top innate warriors could harm it; here, it was an invincible being.

Legend had it the Spirit Ape craved the brains of other living things, hunters and warriors included. In truth, everyone who had ever seen a Spirit Ape was dead.

“Spirit Ape…” Shanpao fell silent, his expression growing distant.

Ye Xin pressed no further. He simply couldn’t stand Shanpao’s wild boasting; this wasn’t about the Spirit Ape at all.

But after a moment, Shanpao said, word by word, “Actually, I really have seen one.”

“Oh?” Ye Xin was surprised. “Truly?”

“I have no reason to lie,” Shanpao sighed. “It was years ago. I saw one in a saber-tooth tiger’s lair—there were seven or eight of those tigers, and not one of them moved. The Spirit Ape calmly sliced open their skulls with its fingertip, and the tigers looked like they were enjoying it. That sight… I’ll never forget it as long as I live.”

“You’re sure it was a Spirit Ape?” Ye Xin’s curiosity was piqued; he had only heard of such a beast in legends.

“No mistake. What else could make saber-tooth tigers submit to being slaughtered?” Shanpao paused. “From my experience, there’s only one way to deal with a Spirit Ape.”

“Let’s hear it,” Ye Xin said with a grave face. For someone who spent years in the wetlands and forests, the apex beasts were the sword of Damocles hanging overhead—no telling when they might strike.

Wisdom from another’s experience could be invaluable; perhaps, if he ever encountered a Spirit Ape, it might even save his life.

“Running is useless—the Spirit Ape is as swift as lightning, there’s no outrunning it. Fighting is no use either—its muscles are harder than steel, blades can’t cut it, and it can gouge a hole in you with a casual swipe.” Shanpao coughed. “So you have to summon all your courage, stare straight at it, don’t back down, and don’t blink—no matter how much your eyes burn or tear up, you mustn’t look away!”

“And that will scare the Spirit Ape off?” Ye Xin asked. “That’s how you survived?”

In that instant, Ye Xin’s mind traced the possible psychological patterns of the Spirit Ape. He couldn’t help it—this was his craft. As a first-rate negotiator versed in personality and cognitive psychology, he always sought the logic between behavior and mind.

He had to admire Shanpao. To have thought of such a method—when you can’t win or run, perhaps facing the Spirit Ape head-on truly is the only way.

“No, but at least you die with some dignity,” Shanpao said boisterously. “As for me… I guess the Spirit Ape was full and couldn’t be bothered, so it let me escape.”

Ye Xin’s expression grew stiff.

“What’s with that look?” Shanpao eyed him. “You seem like you really want to punch me.”

After a long pause, Ye Xin finally looked away and sighed. “More than you can imagine.”

“Don’t be mad, just joking,” Shanpao said with a grin, then got up and walked to the corpse of the middle-aged man. He rummaged for a bit, pulled out a small cloth pouch, and poured its contents onto the ground.

Inside were dozens of gold coins and two small red crystals. Ye Xin blinked—he recognized them as primal stones.

On this continent, there were two main forms of currency: coins and primal stones. For ordinary folk, coins ruled every aspect of life—the more, the merrier. But for warriors striving to break through to the innate realm, coin lost much of its value; many treasures essential to cultivation could only be traded with primal stones.

“If it weren’t for this primal stone, I would’ve left you all behind long ago!” Shanpao kicked the corpse savagely, still seething with resentment.

“Seemed like things went badly for you back there?” Ye Xin asked.

“More than badly—we nearly didn’t make it back.” Shanpao turned, tossing the other primal stone to Ye Xin. “One each.”

Ye Xin caught it and studied it in his palm. “What exactly did you run into?”

“Don’t ask,” Shanpao sighed. “When they first came to me, I thought they wanted to hunt beasts—that’s what I’m good at. As long as they worked with me, I could bring down anything but the real monsters. But it turns out they weren’t after beasts at all—they wanted to kill a man! Damn it, I’m no assassin, and they wanted me to help them murder someone!”

Ye Xin was speechless. In Tianyuan City, all his missions had been against people; hunting beasts was just pastime. Clearly, Shanpao had no grudge against him, but the irony was hard to ignore.

Shanpao seemed to realize this, glancing at Ye Xin and forcing a chuckle. “Don’t take it wrong, Black Robe, I wasn’t talking about you.”

“Stop explaining; the more you do, the more suspicious it sounds,” Ye Xin said, exasperated. “Who was their target?”

“Someone from the Zong clan of Jiuding City in the Kingdom of David,” Shanpao replied.

“The Zong clan? Never heard of them—are they powerful?” Ye Xin asked.

“I don’t know either. I’ve never met them,” Shanpao answered.

“Didn’t you say things went badly? How come you never saw them?” Ye Xin was puzzled.

“They weren’t the only ones after the Zong clan,” Shanpao explained. “You know Black Tiger Du Yiqiang? We ended up fighting his men from the Black Tiger Hall.”

“Oh…” Ye Xin lost interest in further questions. He was never a talkative man; he’d only asked so much to get a better sense of Shanpao. But as he gazed at the primal stone, another question arose. “What does the Zong clan have that made these people willing to spend a primal stone hiring you?”

“It’s a Huaying Fruit,” Shanpao said.

“A Huaying Fruit? Impossible!” Ye Xin’s eyes widened in shock.

“Heh… I know, the energy from a Huaying Fruit can’t be concealed. The aroma would be detectable for miles, with clouds of vapor rising. If there really was one, it would draw mercenaries and hunters from everywhere—the Zong clan would never get away with it. But those guys had a trick: they got a piece of Absolute Ice Crystal and made a box to hide the fruit. That way, even if someone carrying the Huaying Fruit walked right past us, we’d feel nothing.”

“Who told you all this?” Ye Xin asked, frowning, his face a shade paler.

“These idiots, of course,” Shanpao replied. “They traded the Absolute Ice Crystal to the Zong clan.”

“So the primal stone is the Zong clan’s as well?” Ye Xin said.

“Exactly!” Shanpao grinned. “No honor at all—first they make a deal, then they try to double-cross them!”

“There’s no reason they’d tell you all this,” Ye Xin said.

“If someone handed you a primal stone for an easy job, would you trust them?” Shanpao shot back.

“No,” Ye Xin replied. Primal stones were precious—not only as currency, but as essential resources for innate warriors’ advancement.

“So do I look like a fool?” Shanpao said. “Of course I pressed for details.”

Ye Xin fell silent for a long time, then suddenly tossed his primal stone back to Shanpao.

“What’s this about?” Shanpao caught it, staring at Ye Xin in confusion.

“Where are the Black Tiger Hall people? Take me to them,” Ye Xin said.

“Wha… what?” Shanpao eyed him up and down. “Don’t tell me… you’re interested in the Huaying Fruit too?”

“Yes.” Ye Xin nodded. His fingers, hanging at his side, trembled almost imperceptibly—a sign of extreme tension. He could control his expression, his voice, even his heartbeat, so as not to betray himself, but the nerves at his fingertips were harder to restrain. The pressure was enormous.

He had been trapped here for two long years; perhaps this was his best chance at escape!