Chapter 26: Grandfather and Grandson Against Grandfather and Grandson

I had no desire to bring Old Thief Yuan along, but he insisted on coming.

The next morning, he made a point of dressing in a blue cloth Tang suit. He slicked his hair back with gel until it shone like a mirror, stepped into a pair of quilted cotton slippers, and carried a jujube-wood pipe with a jade mouthpiece and an iron bowl. Anyone who knew the craft would recognize that pipe stem at a glance; it was "Red Gold Sandalwood," a rare treasure carved from the heart of a jujube tree aged over sixty years.

What was he planning? Was he going there to flaunt his wealth? I tried to stop him, but he refused to tell me where the Green Demon’s Mouth was unless I complied. Driven into a corner, I had no choice but to bring this dead weight along.

It wasn't until I reached Box Ridge that I realized I never would have found the Ye family on my own. Their home sat on a mountainside, a testament to their history as former bandits. The terrain was not only treacherous but incredibly well-hidden; without decent physical stamina, simply reaching the place was a struggle, let alone finding the inhabitants.

From a distance, I spotted the "Green Dragon Wood" lying across their courtyard. The wood was even more bizarre and supernatural than Old Thief Yuan had described; it was covered in scales and claws, looking for all the world like a wicked dragon lying across the mountain, ready to strike at any moment. However, the feng shui of the courtyard wasn't the "gatherer of baleful energy and grievances" that Yuan had claimed. Instead, it was laid out in a "Green Dragon Blocking the Path" formation, turning the wood into a protective barrier against malevolent forces.

Old Thief Yuan stood before the courtyard with his hands behind his back, examining the layout for a long time. His expression turned solemn. "This Old Ghost Ye is no ordinary man," he murmured. "The feng shui design of this courtyard is ruthless."

Before I could ask him what mysteries the house held, a voice called out, "Are you two looking for someone?"

I was instantly on guard. The speaker was less than five meters away, yet I hadn't sensed his approach. His cultivation level seemed to be on par with my own. Turning, I saw a man in his twenties with a wolf-tail haircut, dressed in a simple athletic suit, holding a Miao saber. Though his skin was as white as mutton-fat jade and he had somewhat delicate features, the sharpness in his eyes made me feel a sense of danger. He was a swordsman—a true one. Only a swordsman would possess such a cold, piercing gaze, where the look in his eyes promised the flash of a blade.

Before I could speak, Old Thief Yuan turned around. He shed his usual lazy, casual demeanor; his eyes grew terrifyingly bright. He stared at the young man like a hawk eyeing its prey, a gaze that would make anyone’s heart quail.

The youth, however, did not panic under Yuan's intense pressure. Instead, he gently rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Old Thief Yuan suddenly laughed. "Not bad! You truly are the grandson of Old Ghost Ye. Anyone else would have wet their pants from fear by now. You’re the first child I've met who, upon encountering me, doesn't feel fear but instead thinks of fighting back."

Before Yuan’s voice had even faded, a voice drifted from the distance. "My grandson certainly wouldn't wet his pants. But if you don't wet yours today, don't think about walking out of my house alive."

I turned slightly and saw an old man with thick brows and a wide, square jaw stepping across pine branches. He moved with a heavy gait, yet every step he took on the needles produced not a single sound. Was this Old Ghost Ye? He didn't walk fast, but he seemed to carry a gale with him; the closer he got, the colder I felt.

Old Thief Yuan said, unhurriedly, "Clouds follow the dragon, wind follows the tiger. That 'Fierce Tiger Step' is quite impressive." He looked at the old man. "You aren't just some mountain-patrolling dog. You are the 'Mountain-Sitting Tiger.' This Green Demon’s Mouth was your handiwork, wasn't it?"

Old Ghost Ye sneered. "What is a mountain-patrolling dog? Are you worthy of comparing me to one? So what if the Green Demon’s Mouth is my handiwork? Do you have an opinion?"

My heart sank. Was this Old Ghost Ye really the Mountain-Sitting Tiger? Back when banditry was rampant in the Northeast, only a second-in-command of a gang or a top-tier strategist among the "Four Beams and Eight Pillars" would dare to claim that title. He was a top-tier figure who could roam the world of the occult with impunity. Things were getting complicated. I couldn't exactly abandon Old Thief Yuan and run for my life, could I?

Old Ghost Ye’s presence was as fierce as a tiger, but Old Thief Yuan remained unperturbed. He removed his pipe and began to pack it with tobacco with deliberate slowness. "Old Ghost Ye, at our age, we don't rely on our bones and muscles, but on our children and grandchildren. Do you want to try our strength, or should we see whose grandson has more skill?"

Yuan’s tone was light and airy, but Old Ghost Ye and the young man seemed to see something incredibly dangerous. Their eyes narrowed involuntarily. After a moment of hesitation, Old Ghost Ye said, "Ye Huan, go play with him."

Ye Huan cupped his hands. "Mountain-Sitting Tiger, swordsman, Ye Huan."

"Yin-Yang Scout, Yuan Zheng!" I returned the salute, and my blade, *Floating Snow*, slid into my palm.

Though we had not yet crossed blades, our gazes collided in the air. An invisible clash of sword intent and killing intent began to coalesce between us. The energy we both suppressed felt like gunpowder with a lit fuse; it would take only seconds for it to erupt with enough force to level everything for meters around. Suddenly, the aura around both of us shifted.

Ye Huan’s blade intent seemed to recede into his scabbard; he looked less dangerous than the Miao saber he held. My own presence became like a withered leaf falling on snow—conspicuous against the flawless white, yet easy for others to overlook.

The standoff lasted only a few seconds. We both lunged at each other simultaneously. The cold light of *Floating Snow* was as ethereal as the wind, while the edge of the Miao saber was as fierce as thunder. In a heartbeat, we had swapped positions.

As we stabilized, the phantom image of a tiger on Ye Huan flickered and vanished; my "Yellow Springs Fierce Eye" had just opened and closed in an instant. I looked down to see my shirt slashed across the chest, while a lock of hair fell from Ye Huan’s forehead.

In this exchange, neither of us had used a lethal blow, yet we were evenly matched.

Old Thief Yuan chuckled. "Old Ghost, what do you think of my grandson?"

"He’s a bit worse than mine!" Old Ghost Ye replied, looking sternly at Yuan. "Friend, what is the purpose of your visit to my humble abode?"

The clash between Ye Huan and me had made one thing clear to Old Ghost Ye: we hadn't come to cause trouble. We were simply testing the mettle of the Ye family before discussing business. In the world of the underworld, this wasn't considered an insult; after all, one must always inspect the quality of the goods before making a deal.

Old Thief Yuan puffed on his pipe. "I’ve come to buy a life."

Old Ghost Ye’s expression grew grave. "Whose life?"

"A dog’s life!" Yuan laughed happily. "I’m here to kill a mountain-patrolling dog."

Old Ghost Ye smiled instantly. "So, a friend has arrived. Ye Huan, prepare the food and bring out the wine. Today, we shall host Brother Yuan properly."

"Please, come inside."