Chapter Six: The Xiao Family

Ye Min survived—he survived alone. He still lived in a room with only a trace of light, but it was far better than the living hell he’d endured before. In all his time there, only Jiumian ever came and went.

On the first day Ye Min awoke, Jiumian brought him some food and a few booklets. He spoke only a single sentence, but it snuffed out any thought of rebellion in Ye Min’s heart: “Learn what I teach you. When you’re able to kill me, you’ll be free to leave this place.”

Jiumian began with the basics—literacy, then stealth weapons, the art of concealing one’s presence, the cultivation methods that suited him. Every aspect, he taught Ye Min thoroughly. It was soon evident Ye Min was gifted; within a year, he had mastered all Jiumian had to offer. All that remained was to hone his skills through practice.

Besides this, Ye Min gained a new occupation: taking on missions from the Thousand Blades Sect, training himself in real combat.

The door opened again. Without looking up, Ye Min asked, “Where to this time?”

Jiumian smiled at his words. “A small town a few dozen miles away. Here’s the target’s information and portrait.”

He handed over an envelope. When Ye Min didn’t reach for it, Jiumian simply placed it on the bed. As he turned to leave, a thought struck him and he offered a warning: “My good disciple, this time is different. Our rivals have also taken this contract. You’ll have to act before they do, or the Sect Master may be displeased.”

Hearing Jiumian call him “disciple,” Ye Min found it bitterly ironic, but his expression didn’t betray him.

After over a year in the Thousand Blades Sect, Ye Min had seen the Sect Master angry before—no one who incurred that wrath was left with even a corpse. He’d witnessed firsthand the savagery of wild beasts unleashed upon such people, their screams for help still vivid in his mind. More than once, he’d awoken from nightmares in the dead of night, gasping for breath.

Not long after Jiumian left, two men in black entered. They unlocked the heavy chains from his wrists and ankles, blindfolded him, and led him out. The destination changed every time—clearly, they feared he’d memorize an escape route. Ye Min wasn’t in a rush to flee; he was deep within the enemy stronghold, and he would not leave without accomplishing something after being held captive so long.

The two men in black delivered him to the designated spot and departed.

Without pause, Ye Min made his way to the small town. Only then did he take a moment to catch his breath, choosing an inconspicuous inn for lodging. The information provided by the Thousand Blades Sect was always detailed; Ye Min usually acted quickly, as lingering too long at his age would only arouse suspicion.

This time, the target was a local schoolteacher who lived in a remote corner of town—perfect for Ye Min’s purposes.

That night, just before midnight, Ye Min donned dark clothing and hurried to the teacher’s dwelling, locating the bedroom with silent ease. In one swift motion, his blade fell. A life was extinguished in an instant. Ye Min blinked, momentarily stunned; strangely, he felt nothing at all.

A trace of bitterness appeared on his youthful face. Was what he did now really any different from those who had killed his two masters?

A small shadow slipped from the schoolteacher’s house, flitted through the night, and returned to the unremarkable inn. He changed clothes and lay down to rest.

Outside the inn, two men in black exchanged glances. One said, “No way. Every year our Xiao family has a contest with the Thousand Blades, but this time they only sent a kid? Are they looking down on us?”

The other snorted. “Don’t forget, we lost to that kid. We’d better look into his background—I have a feeling we’ll be seeing him again.”

“Fine, fine, whatever you say,” sighed Xiao Qi. “I’m getting old. Guess I’ll go back and take my punishment. Young master, you’ll speak on my behalf to the old chief, won’t you?”

Xiao Muran, heir to the Xiao family, smacked him on the head. “Forget it! You think I won’t get an earful from my own father?”

Xiao Qi clutched his head in mock misery. “Young master…”

Xiao Muran waved him off. “Enough, stop giving me that abandoned-wife look. Let’s go—how long do you plan to stand around here?” With that, he strode off.

Watching his young master’s retreating figure, Xiao Qi cast a glance at the room where the “kid” was staying, and nearly wept. “Young master, wait for me!”

Inside, Ye Min, who had already closed his eyes, opened them again, his gaze darkening. The Xiao family?

The next day, Ye Min returned to the Thousand Blades Sect to report. In the grand hall, the Sect Master was laughing behind her hand, but none of her subordinates dared make a sound. Resting her chin on her hand, she parted her lips, and an attendant offered her a peeled grape. After eating it, she smiled. “Jiumian, your disciple has truly brought glory to our sect.”

Jiumian hurried forward. “You flatter me, Sect Leader.”

The Sect Master’s eyes narrowed. “Hardly flattery. Merit deserves reward. From today, Ye Min is promoted to Protector of the Thousand Blades Sect.”

Jiumian was shocked. “My lord!”

The Sect Master frowned in displeasure. “Enough. No more words. You may all leave.”

Ye Min withdrew expressionlessly. The rank of Protector was second only to the Sect Leader, even higher than Jiumian—yet all he’d done was kill a single man. What was the Sect Leader’s intent? He could not fathom it.

Once the others had left, the Sect Leader’s smile faded. She turned to her attendant. “What do you think of Ye Min?”

The attendant replied coolly, “If he is not removed, he’ll be a future threat—a tiger raised in our midst.”

The Sect Leader was silent for a moment. “At least you speak the truth. But it’s better to keep danger close at hand, where I can watch him. In the meantime, he can still serve our sect. Why not make the most of it?”

The attendant sighed. “Take care not to bring disaster upon yourself.”

The Sect Leader was indulgent toward this attendant, showing no anger. She merely took his calloused hand, interlacing their fingers. “What, are you worried about me?”

The attendant seemed used to this, his expression unchanged. “You overthink, my lord.”

Suddenly, the Sect Leader flung his hand away with a cold snort. “If I can’t have what I want, then this life is worth nothing!” With that, she strode out of the hall.

The attendant did not follow. Unlike Ye Min, who wore shackles he might one day remove, the attendant was bound by death manacles—special restraints that, if forcibly removed, would kill the wearer. For him, release was impossible in this life.

The vast hall echoed with his quiet lament. What the Sect Leader wanted, how could he possibly give?

After his promotion, Ye Min still wore his shackles, but he finally moved out of the dungeon into a spacious, sunlit room. He could now choose his own missions and was free from Jiumian’s control. The Sect Leader assigned several people to oversee his daily needs; Ye Min accepted this arrangement calmly.

Three years passed in a flash.

One night, after completing a mission, Ye Min returned to his remote residence. He had already instructed that no one was to enter his quarters at night, yet as soon as he stepped inside, he sensed another presence.

He approached the screen silently, blade in hand. Xiao Muran barely dodged the attack, patting his chest in shock—he’d nearly lost his future progeny! This kid was ruthless.

Ye Min frowned. “You?” For years, no matter what mission he took, he always ran into this man. Did the Xiao family have nothing better to do?

Xiao Muran, seeing Ye Min’s clear look of disdain, suppressed the urge to rap him on the head.

Ye Min sheathed his dagger. “What do you want?”

Xiao Muran didn’t forget his purpose. “I have something important to discuss.”

Ye Min’s voice was icy. “Get on with it. I have no time for idle talk.”

Xiao Muran’s tone grew serious. “Do you want revenge?”

Ye Min froze. Of course he did. Not a day or night passed without that thought tormenting him. The images of his two masters dying with open, unavenged eyes were still vivid. How could he not want vengeance?