Minho sat down on the thick, twisted root of a massive tree as Tao ladled stew into her bowl and placed a handful of berries beside it. Tao then served herself and sat across from Minho, the two settling in for their simple breakfast. The morning air was cool, and the warmth of the stew brought a sense of comfort, yet Minho’s mind was elsewhere.

As she ate, her thoughts kept drifting back to the [Smartphone]. The device’s battery was dangerously low, and she still hadn’t figured out how to charge it. Should she tell Sister Tao about it? Maybe getting the others involved would help, but Minho hesitated. Tao was known to be the most superstitious among them—not just within their small group, but in all of the Thunder Sky Brotherhood. Minho feared how Tao might react if she learned about the mysterious [Smartphone].

Tao’s deep-rooted superstitions came from her past. She had once been a shrine maiden, serving the village temple, before she was abandoned by the priests and her village. She had defied the priests, who were misusing public funds for their own gain, and had been cast out as a result. Ever since then, Tao had held tightly to her beliefs in the supernatural, and anything she didn’t understand was met with caution—or worse, fear.

"Xiao Minho," Tao’s voice broke through Minho's thoughts. "Your eyes look tired, like you’ve been reading all night." She scooped a spoonful of stew and narrowed her eyes at Minho. "We don’t have any lanterns. Did you use a torch to read? The whole hut could have burned down!"

Minho’s heart raced at the accusation. She quickly shook her head, forcing a laugh. "No, no, Sister Tao, I didn’t! I slept through the night, I swear!" She lied, her face tightening as she tried to mask her guilt. The truth was, she had spent most of the night trying to decipher the [Smartphone], desperately searching for a way to charge it. But admitting that would raise questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

Just as Tao looked like she might press further, both women suddenly turned toward the cave’s dark corridor. From the shadows, two flickering torches appeared, casting long, dancing shadows on the cave walls. Gu and Shun emerged, their faces drawn and weary from a long night of exploration.

"They’re back!" Minho exclaimed, leaping to her feet. She rushed toward them, relief flooding her as she saw how exhausted they looked. Whatever they had found—or not found—was secondary to the fact that they had returned safely.

Gu’s usually strong, steady posture was sagging slightly, and Shun's face was smeared with dirt and sweat. Their clothing was damp from the cave's humidity, and they looked like they hadn’t stopped moving since they left.

"Brother Gu, Brother Shun!" Minho called, her voice full of concern. "Did you find anything?"

Shun, panting heavily, wiped his brow with the back of his hand and gave her a tired grin. "Still no sign of another exit. But the cave goes deeper than we thought. Much deeper."

Gu nodded, his expression more serious. "We’ll need to be cautious if we go further. There could be dangerous creatures ahead, and we’re not sure what’s at the other end."

Minho’s relief mixed with apprehension. She glanced back at Tao, who had now joined them, and wondered once more whether she should reveal the strange device to her. But seeing the weariness on everyone's faces, she pushed the thought aside, deciding that for now, it was better to keep it a secret.

"Let's get you both something to eat," Tao said, her voice softening with concern. "You look like you haven’t rested the whole night."

Gu and Shun sat down near the fire, their weary faces illuminated by its flickering light. Minho returned to her spot on the large tree root, watching them carefully as they began to eat. As everyone settled into the simple meal, Shun opened his bag, revealing chains and various metal pieces. He placed them on the ground with a soft clink.

“We didn’t find another exit,” Shun said, taking a bite of his stew, “but we did come across a strange metal door, carved right into the cave wall. Our guess is it’s some sort of storage room.”

Gu, swallowing a mouthful of stew, nodded in agreement. “But the real question is, who would build something like that in such a remote cave? We didn’t even know this place existed until recently,” he said, glancing at Tao.

Tao's eyes widened, her superstitions immediately surfacing. “Could it be a cursed door? Maybe something sealed inside to keep it from escaping?” she asked, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and fear.

Gu chuckled softly. “No, it’s not cursed. It’s most likely an old storage room for supplies, maybe even military equipment. Twenty years ago, Jing Mountain was a battleground between the Frost Kingdom and the Central Plains. There could easily be remnants from that war hidden here.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Minho nodded thoughtfully as she listened. It made sense. The war between the two kingdoms had lasted for a decade before it ended when Emperor Feng Zhou captured the young second prince, Han Ming, from the Frost Kingdom. The capture had brought peace to the Jing Mountains for the last ten years, but traces of the conflict still lingered.

Tao, however, remained skeptical. “But doesn’t that make this place dangerous for us? If the Greenwood Brotherhood is working with Empress Momo Zhou, she might know about hidden storage rooms like this. What if she plans to use them?”

Both Shun and Minho shook their heads firmly, speaking in unison. “No.”

Shun, who had spent part of his childhood in the capital before being abandoned in the Jing Mountains, had picked up a bit of imperial history from his adopted parents back then. "Empress Momo Zhou is the head of the Imperial Pavilion of Law and Order. Her authority only covers internal court affairs—she wouldn’t have access to military intelligence. The emperor and the Right Minister handle that."

Minho, drawing on her own knowledge from her education under Minfe, added, “Exactly. Unless the emperor granted her specific access, she wouldn’t know about any secret military operations or storage locations. And from what we’ve seen, this assassination attempt on Prince Han Ming doesn’t seem like something the emperor would have sanctioned.”

Gu nodded in agreement, his brow furrowed. “That’s right. If the emperor were working with the empress, she wouldn’t need to orchestrate a complex decade-long plan to eliminate Han Ming. It doesn’t add up.”

“But think about this,” Gu said, his eyes narrowing as he pointed to the chains in Shun’s bag. “Those chains were clearly used to open the door, right? And judging by their size and length, they weren’t pulled by human hands alone. They had help.”

Minho, Shun, and Tao exchanged confused glances. None of them understood what he was getting at.

Gu sighed, looking around at their puzzled faces. “Horses,” he said, tapping one of the chains for emphasis. “The chains were likely pulled by horses to open that door.”

Suddenly, it clicked for all of them. Minho’s eyes widened in realization. “But... horses wouldn’t have been able to enter the cave through the entrance we used,” she said, her voice trailing off.

Shun nodded, his face lighting up with the same understanding. “Exactly,” he said. “That means there has to be another entrance. If horses were used to open that door, they had to come from somewhere.”

Tao’s expression shifted from skepticism to intrigue. “Another exit…” she murmured, glancing toward the dark depths of the cave. “Then we might have another way out after all.”

The revelation hung in the air like a thick cloud of possibility. If there was another way into the cave, they could have a safe passage through the forest near to one of the mountain villages or towns.

The thought of finally having a way out gave them a glimmer of hope.

“We’ll head back into the cave tonight,” Gu said as he finished his stew, setting the bowl aside. “Shun and I will search for the other end again.”

Shun nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow. “If there’s another way through, we’ll find it,” he said, his tone resolute.

Tao gave a thoughtful nod, her usual superstitions momentarily pushed aside by the practical need for survival. “Be careful in there. That door might have other secrets behind it.”

The group finished their meal, and soon they were back at work, building another hut to expand their makeshift camp. Minho couldn’t focus. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the [Smartphone] and its low battery. The anxiety gnawed at her—how could she charge it?

Meanwhile, deep in the forest, within the heavily fortified walls of the Greenwood Brotherhood's stronghold, Yu Ryang sat behind a large wooden desk in his office. The room was dimly lit, and opposite him sat an older man, his face lined with age but still full of authority. His frown deepened as Yu Ryang spoke.

“I must admit, I was expecting the town governor,” Yu Ryang said, his voice smooth but laced with thinly veiled irritation. “I called him here for negotiations. Don’t get me wrong, Master Lin, I’m pleased to see you, but I was expecting the governor himself.”

Master Lin, a man in his fifties or early sixties, leaned back in his chair with a calm expression. His silvered hair caught the faint light from the candles on Yu Ryang’s desk. He smiled politely, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Well,” Master Lin began, his voice measured and calm, “the governor is somewhat... indisposed at the moment. You see, a group of your brotherhood visited our town last night. It left him rather shaken.”

Yu Ryang raised an eyebrow, but before he could respond, Master Lin continued, his tone never wavering. “I must say, I didn’t appreciate the nature of that visit, particularly the part where some of your men expressed interest in speaking with my daughter.”

There was a quiet intensity in his words now, his eyes locking with Yu Ryang’s. Though his tone remained calm, there was no mistaking the underlying threat.

There was a quiet but unmistakable intensity in his words, his eyes locking firmly onto Yu Ryang’s. Despite the calmness in his tone, the underlying threat was clear.

Yu Ryang met Master Lin’s gaze, smiling with an equal measure of intensity. “Oh my, is that so? I see... well, that does pose a bit of a problem, doesn’t it? You see, my men intended to continue these visits until the governor granted us an audience.”

Master Lin’s expression didn’t falter. “That won’t be necessary,” he replied smoothly. “I’m here to negotiate on the governor’s behalf. He’s given me full authority to represent him.”

“Wonderful! Then let’s stop dancing around the issue, shall we?” Yu Ryang said with a wave of his hand, his tone shifting to one of brisk business. “What is it you want?” Master Lin asked, cutting straight to the point.

Yu Ryang leaned forward slightly, his eyes gleaming. “Twenty gold coins per month for safe passage of merchant carriages through your town.”

Master Lin chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Twenty? Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive, Mister Ryang?”

Yu Ryang’s smile didn’t waver as he shook his head. “Excessive? I wouldn’t call it that. Let’s be realistic, Master Lin. We control the Jing Mountains now, and our numbers grow by the day. More men require more resources, and the villages and towns within the mountains should contribute for the protection we provide. It’s only fair.”

Master Lin’s jaw tightened slightly, though he kept his composure. It was no secret that the Greenwood Brotherhood had been expanding its influence throughout the Jing Mountains. For days, there had been no sign of imperial patrols, and the bandits had grown bolder, launching brazen attacks on merchant caravans, villages, and towns in broad daylight. They demanded ‘protection fees’ from anyone passing through, effectively cutting off the main routes in and out of the mountains. The Brotherhood’s hold on the region was tightening, and without imperial interference, they seemed unstoppable.

Master Lin clicked his tongue, weighing his options. The town couldn’t withstand another raid, and the governor had no intention of sending reinforcements anytime soon. With little choice, Master Lin sighed. “Alright, twenty gold coins it is.”

Yu Ryang’s smile broadened, but before Master Lin could relax, Yu added, “Oh, and an additional twenty-five gold coins per month for the protection of the town itself.”

Master Lin’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Yu Ryang, realizing the man had no intention of negotiating in good faith. “Twenty-five for the town’s protection?” he repeated, his voice strained with controlled frustration.

Yu Ryang leaned back in his chair, spreading his hands in a mock display of generosity. “Of course. We can’t let the town go unprotected, now can we? Bandits are everywhere these days... you wouldn’t want anything unfortunate to happen.”