Fatty Lin glanced disdainfully at the three train patrol officers who were already knocked out in front of him, spat the insult, and strode past them, kicking each one back to his feet.

"Alright, tie them up," Yang Yi waved his hand dismissively.

"En!" Fatty Lin responded and set about securing the men.

Seeing the matter formally concluded, Yang Yi felt no elation, only a deepening sense of weight. Such incidents were too frequent across China now to warrant even a flicker of pity from anyone.

Xuanyuan Bing was greatly surprised by Yang Yi's sudden shift to gravity. Yet, she asked nothing. She already knew the unspoken rule: when Yang Yi was heavy-hearted, it was best not to disturb him. At best, one would earn a cold stare; at worst, he would ignore the question and return a sharp inquiry—best to avoid such self-inflicted trouble.

"It seems getting answers from Grandpa about that matter will be difficult this time. If what I'm doing now is connected to those people... Hmph, Grandpa should know the consequences." Yang Yi’s inherent, bone-chilling aura spread without restraint, stunning both Xuanyuan Bing and Fatty Lin beside him.

####################################################

Time flew by like an airplane; in the blink of an eye, they had reached the final station. After disembarking, Fatty Lin followed the original plan, submitting only the audio and video recordings to the police department. A large contingent of officers had already thoroughly combed through the train.

The young girl, upon seeing Yang Yi and the others leave the train, quickly bade them farewell. After all, their paths in life were meant to run parallel but never intersect; prolonged association would only bring harm to her.

"Hey, Brother Yi, didn't we take a boat last time too?" Fatty Lin asked, a hint of reminiscence in his tone.

"We did. I remember then, you and I were just two naïve youths running away from the mountains. Everything has changed now," Yang Yi sighed at the impermanence of worldly affairs. Some things, separated by two full years, still felt as if they had happened just yesterday.

"Young Master, it will take another hour to reach Old Dragon Lord's place," Feng Shi informed Yang Yi.

"En, I know." Upon replying, Yang Yi’s heart churned with a thousand emotions as he gazed at the approaching mountain range—the mountain village where he had spent eighteen years.

Fatty Lin glanced at Yang Yi, understanding his complicated mood perfectly, as he himself felt an equal surge of complex emotions. After being away for two years, he was finally home again.

Meanwhile, in a courtyard, a white-haired old man was watering his flowers, his face alight with a calm, unhurried smile. He seemed utterly relaxed and at ease.

"Hmm? Are they finally here?" The white-haired elder murmured, sensing a familiar aura drawing near.

"Grandpa!"

"Grandpa!"

Two voices, trembling with emotion, called out. Before they even stepped into the courtyard, both young men were already kneeling at the entrance.

In the hearts of these two, the heavens might be knelt to below, and the earth might be knelt to above, but within the vastness of China, only this one elder was worthy of their kneel. Not even the head of a nation, nor the supreme overlord of the world, could shake the steadfast conviction held in their hearts.

"Feng Shi pays respects to Old Dragon Lord." Feng Shi also knelt, remaining outside the main area.

Xuanyuan Bing, standing to the side, was momentarily paralyzed, her expression uncertain. She could only stand there, frozen. However, she felt an inexplicable pressure emanating from the old man, and she detected an aura around him far more dangerous than Yang Yi’s. Curiosity warred within her about this elder’s true identity.

"All of you, since you've returned, stay kneeling there. Have I died?" The white-haired elder finally turned, his face curved into an amused smile, teasing them.

"Grandpa, your grandson..." Yang Yi choked out the address, his voice thick.

He held an indescribable reverence for Old Master Yang. Although he had met him once a year ago, the feeling of returning home now was vastly different from that previous encounter.

"Enough. Don't kneel there looking like a funeral procession. Go make me food; I’m starving," Old Master Yang said with a slight smile, turning back to his flowers.

Hearing this, Yang Yi and Fatty Lin’s faces lit up. They rose and told Feng Shi and Xuanyuan Bing behind them, "Let's go inside!"

After watching Yang Yi and the others enter, Old Master Yang set down the watering can. His expression softened, and he took a deep breath, sighing, "He has truly grown. Compared to a year ago, he seems to have reached the standard I set for him."

Entering a small thatched hut, Xuanyuan Bing was the most astonished among the four. She truly hadn't expected that the home where Yang Yi and Fatty Lin lived for their childhood was constructed of mud bricks, their beds were hard planks, and their accommodations were simpler even than those of common folk.

From the courtyard, it was clear that most surrounding residences had been built into one or two-story houses, yet Yang Yi’s dwelling remained a mud-brick structure—the disparity was immense.

"Yi, is this the home you lived in for eighteen years?" Xuanyuan Bing asked, stunned.

"Yes. Why?" Yang Yi looked back, puzzled.

"No reason, I was just curious..." Xuanyuan Bing truly was only curious. Yang Yi could believe that, for in her eyes and heart, there was no trace of disdain, only genuine curiosity, mixed perhaps with a touch of heartache.

"Brother Yi, Grandpa wants to see you outside for a moment," Fatty Lin came back in from the entrance to call.

"En, I know." Yang Yi agreed and instructed Feng Shi, "Cook a few extra dishes. It’s been a long time since I ate with Grandpa."

"Yes, Young Master!" Feng Shi smiled faintly. "I will use all my best skills."

"Hehe, I'll help too!" Xuanyuan Bing chimed in, unwilling to be left out. Though she was born a young lady and raised in a greenhouse, her heart was certainly not cold.

Stepping out into the courtyard, Yang Yi approached the stone pavilion and called softly to Old Master Yang, "Grandpa."

"En, you're here. Sit," Old Master Yang smiled faintly and waved him over.

Yang Yi understood. After sitting down, he noticed the tea set on the stone table. He picked up the teapot, first scalding the teacups, then replacing the leaves in the pot, pouring in hot water, gently swirling it, discarding that water, and then slowly pouring more hot water over the outside of the pot. After about a minute, Yang Yi finally lifted the lid and poured in fresh boiling water.

All of this was observed by Old Master Yang, the smile in his eyes growing ever more intense. After completing the sequence of procedures, Yang Yi poured a cup for the elder and said, "The tea has three parts fragrance, three parts purity, and three parts flavor; pour it to seven-tenths full."

"Haha, you rascal!" Old Master Yang burst into laughter upon hearing Yang Yi’s words. "Your intention is not really about the tea."

"Is that incorrect? This is the best I could brew using all my knowledge and learning. Though it can't compare to your tea ceremony, Grandpa, it's at least the creation of my own Way!" Yang Yi smiled faintly. The fellow was indeed, as Old Master Yang implied, speaking with hidden meaning.

"Tell me, what is it you truly want, now that you are back?" Old Master Yang didn't dwell on Yang Yi’s words, slowly savoring the tea his grandson had prepared.

Hearing this, Yang Yi said nothing, instead methodically pouring a cup for himself. He took a sip, inhaled deeply, and closed his eyes slightly, seemingly lost in the tea’s fragrance.

Old Master Yang smiled faintly, paying no mind to Yang Yi’s current demeanor, and proceeded to refill his own cup for a slow sip.

"What are those two doing?" Xuanyuan Bing emerged from the doorway carrying vegetables, intending to wash them, but paused when she saw Yang Yi and Old Master Yang by the stone pavilion. The atmosphere between them was strangely inscrutable.

"Hehe, don't worry about those two. Hurry and wash the vegetables," Fatty Lin advised Xuanyuan Bing, though his own gaze drifted toward the pavilion, lost in thought.

Then, Yang Yi opened his eyes and locked onto Old Master Yang’s intensely smiling gaze. The expression on his face vanished in that instant, replaced by a dark, grim mask. He demanded, "Who is the hidden power orchestrating the resolution of City A, Jiangsu, even Shanghai, and suppressing all official matters in Hong Kong? And what path am I currently walking? Is it truly the heartless path of the Six Realms? Do not try to conceal or deceive me any longer, Grandpa!"

Every word carried the weight of killing intent. The tea sitting on the stone table rippled violently. Though the surface appeared calm, the turbulent undercurrents were undeniably significant.

This was the first time Old Master Yang had been scrutinized so intensely by Yang Yi, especially with such palpable killing intent. Although those at the Cyan-rank Grandmaster level were like mere children in his eyes, the sheer momentum Yang Yi was emitting forced the elder to proceed with caution.

Helpless? No, more accurately, with a sigh.

"Alas—you finally asked." Old Master Yang sighed deeply. He was entirely unconcerned by Yang Yi’s current killing aura; instead, he effortlessly erased it with an unconscious motion, replacing it with an aura of profound peace that settled over Yang Yi’s aggression.