"Old friend, such a heavy bet is hardly like you..."
Atop Tiandu Peak of Mount Huang, Yang Potian and Zhou Yin sat across from each other above an endless sea of clouds, all other mountains appearing insignificant in comparison. Two powerful auras clashed as though a pair of dark thunderclouds wrestling in the void, striking fear in those who beheld them.
The speaker was Yang Potian, who gazed out at the magnificent sea of clouds that he had beheld for decades but still couldn’t get enough of. His voice carried a nonchalant tone that suggested a casual chat between friends.
"It’s you who bet too early, and too heavily..."
Zhou Yin sat upright on a meditation cushion, a steaming cup of tea before him from which tendrils of steam rose. He made no move to lift his black iron mask, not even feigning a sip, "I was dragged into this wager by you, and had no choice but to follow suit with a heavy bet."
"You should know, I had no choice!"
Yang Potian shook his head slightly with a distant look in his eyes, responding indifferently.
Zhou Yin: "You actually had a choice, you just chose wrong."
Yang Potian’s brows furrowed imperceptibly as he cast a serious glance toward Zhou Yin and asked, "Yang Erlang has only been active for two and a half years at most. What makes you so confident in him?"
Zhou Yin remained unmoved. After a moment of silence, he replied indifferently, "You should be aware that there are things I cannot disclose, but I have advised you... not to make an enemy of Yang Erlang!"
Why did he have such great confidence in Yang Erlang?
Because he was the only grandmaster of this age who had seen Yang Erlang draw his sword and lived to tell the tale.
Because he was the only grandmaster of this age who knew the whole story of Yang Erlang’s triple strike against Zhang Xuansu.
Yang Potian, inexplicably irritated, said with impatience, "I’ve said, I had no choice!"
Zhou Yin: "You have a choice... even now, you still have one!"
Yang Potian laughed sardonically, "You want me, the Sect Hierarch, to humbly ask forgiveness from a mere inexperienced youth?"
Zhou Yin: "If all you can’t let go of is the pride of an elder and the face of a sect leader, then don’t speak of having no choice!"
Yang Potian: "And you? Can you let go of pride? If you could, would you stand by such an inexperienced youth?"
"You are wrong about that."
Zhou Yin shook his head, "I’m not like you, parading piety and basking in endless glory. Regardless of whether that man ever sought me out or not, I would never stake the century-old foundation of my Tian Sheng Group on him."
Yang Potian, puzzled, asked, "Why do you say that?"
Zhou Yin answered calmly, "I do not know who is stronger between that man and Yang Erlang, but I do know that he is already very old, while Yang Erlang is still very young— younger than both you and me!"
Yang Potian thought for a moment and then answered earnestly, "Being too young is not always a good thing..."
Zhou Yin: "But the blood of the young is always hot, isn’t it? Betting on Yang Erlang means the Tian Sheng Group will be seen as an ally by him. Betting on that other man means being seen as a lackey... the same goes for your Ming Sect!"
Yang Potian was left without words and a hint of regret began to rise within him... The cards held by the Ming Sect had been much better than those of the Tian Sheng Group.
But he quickly snuffed out the flicker of regret, dismissing it with a wave and a stone-faced expression, "It’s too late for more words, your visit today is just to pass a message from that Yang Erlang?"
Zhou Yin: "If I say my visit today is also to pull an old friend back from the brink, would you believe me?"
"You make it sound too simple..."
Yang Potian scoffed, "I’ve already offended Yang Erlang. Even if I back down now, he might not simply wipe the slate clean concerning the Jiangzhe affair and all for nothing, I would have wronged the Treasure Temple. As for you, that person from the Treasure Temple had just left your door when you sold out me and him to Yang Erlang, aren’t you afraid he’ll destroy your hundred-year foundation in a fit of rage?"
"That’s not for you to worry about. Those old houses on Zijin Mountain—if he dislikes them, let him destroy them."
Zhou Yin replied indifferently, "Before coming here, I knew that given your character, you wouldn’t turn back until you hit the wall, but I still came, and indeed, you didn’t disappoint me... Let’s consider today as fulfilling our friendship of over twenty years!"
Yang Potian couldn’t laugh anymore; he spoke in disbelief, "Truly?"
Zhou Yin: "You and I both know the kind of person that man from Treasure Temple is. Coming out of his retreat, he will not be content just stirring up some troubles in the martial world. And Yang Erlang is an obstacle that he can’t get around..."
He stood up, facing the wind, "I’ve said all there is to say, farewell!"
Having finished, he leaped from the peak, covering tens of yards in each step, making his exit along the treetops.
Only Yang Potian was left sitting alone atop Lotus Peak, his face shifting between light and dark, wordlessly lost in thought.
Before long, from not far below the mountain, a distant commotion could be heard. Following the direction the noise came from, Yang Potian could see a large group of people winding their way up the rugged mountain path.
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From his vantage point, he could also clearly see that the crowd was headed toward Bright Summit, with large numbers of the Ming Sect disciples joining them along the way... It was a sight of popular support and universal appeal.
"I chose wrong?"
Yang Potian gazed down at the noisy procession below, murmuring to himself as a sense of impatient rage began to emerge in his eyes, "How many of these treacherous subjects have ever held me, their Sect Hierarch, in their hearts?"
Yang Tiansheng, leading the group up the mountain, seemed to sense Yang Potian’s gaze. He looked up, peering through the layers of forest to give a long, distant stare back at Yang Potian atop Lotus Peak.
After several moments, he withdrew his gaze, tightened the gold-trimmed Sword Box on his shoulder, and continued his climb. His voluminous red robe at the forefront of the group was like a vivid banner, ceaselessly beckoning the Ming Sect disciples from the headquarters to gather behind him.