Late at night, Minho lay awake, absorbed in the glow of her [Smartphone] as she researched recipes that combined sugar and flour. With their newfound knowledge of sugar-making, creating sweets similar to those from the distant mainland seemed like the perfect next step. Her curiosity led her down a rabbit hole of sweet pastries and confections, but a different article caught her eye: “The Dangers of Improper Flour Storage.” The warnings within it were unsettling but valuable knowledge for the future.

Just as she was engrossed, familiar voices echoed from outside the room. She quickly powered off the screen, stashed the device away, and crept towards the door, pressing her ear against the wood to catch snippets of the conversation.

“What do you mean, they’re hanging their bodies?!” Tao’s voice trembled with fury, and Minho could hear her shaking Shun.

Shun’s reply came out in a stammer, clearly worn from the ordeal. “J-just as I said… The Greenwood Bandits hung their bodies up as a taunt… to draw us out.”

“Enough.” A calm but firm voice—Gu’s—cut in. “Brother Shun, you’re exhausted. Rest now.”

“But, Brother Gu!” Tao protested, her voice thick with anguish. “They’re desecrating our brothers and sisters! Their spirits can’t find peace—they won’t reach the Ancestor Plains!”

Gu’s tone softened as he attempted to soothe her. “Sister Tao, I know this is hard. But this is precisely what they want. They know how much we honor our fallen. This is their way of tormenting us… They want to sow anger and discord among us.”

Tao fell silent, her breathing heavy with restrained anger. Raised as a temple maiden, she held deep respect for the rites and honor of the dead, and the idea of her brothers and sisters being denied proper rest was agony.

Listening to their grief and anger from behind the door, Minho felt her heart clench. Unbidden tears pricked her eyes, and painful memories rushed back—of fires consuming her village, of seeing Sister Yang’s lifeless form. She thought she had moved past the sorrow, but tonight, the grief returned with a vengeance, crashing over her like a wave.

Wiping her tears, Minho returned to her hay bed, curling up tightly as she tried to push the haunting images from her mind. But sleep was slow to come, and as she lay there, muffling her quiet sobs, the weight of her loss settled over her once more, refusing to be ignored.

The next morning, Minho was the first to rise, filled with restless energy. She started practicing her punches in the open area outside her hut, each strike cutting through the air with a focused ferocity. The rhythmic sound of her punches soon woke Gu and Tao, who watched her, bleary-eyed but intrigued.

“So early in the morning, Xiao Minho?” Gu asked, stifling a yawn. “This isn’t like you.”

Minho responded with a sharp “Ha!” as she threw another punch, her eyes filled with steely determination. “I want to get stronger!” she declared, fists clenched. “I want the Greenwood Bandits to know the cost of disrespecting our brothers and sisters.”

Gu and Tao exchanged a glance, a mixture of concern and admiration in their eyes. Tao tilted her head, watching Minho with a knowing look. “You were listening in last night, weren’t you?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Minho nodded vigorously, throwing another punch for emphasis. “Yes! Ha!” She took a deep breath, steadying herself before adding, “I know what you’re going to say, Brother Gu—that we’re not strong and that revenge isn’t always the answer.” She looked at him earnestly. “But protecting the Jing Mountains from their cruelty? That’s not revenge right?”

Gu studied her, realizing she understood far more than he’d anticipated. It seemed She knew of his plan to send her and the others to the mainland, a safer life he wished for them. A weary smile tugged at his lips, acknowledging her spirit. But before he could speak, Minho’s voice rang out with fresh determination.

“So, let’s give the Greenwood Bandits a little message—something from us!” She planted her feet and turned to them, eyes blazing with resolve.

“Xiao Minho, we’re not—” Gu began, but two more voices chimed in as Tao and Shun joined them, both of them now fully awake and listening intently.

“How?” Tao and Shun asked in unison, curiosity laced with caution. Shun folded his arms, waiting for Minho to continue, a glint of intrigue in his eyes.

Minho smirked, hands resting on her hips. “We may not have the strength to face them head-on, but we can outsmart them. Just like they’re taunting us, we can make a move that will unsettle them too.”

Shun raised an eyebrow. “What exactly do you have in mind?” he asked, knowing well that Minho’s ideas often brought unexpected twists.

Minho stopped her punches and leaned in closer. “We know they’ve been guarding all the locations where we hid our supplies, right? They think they’re clever.”

Gu nodded, and Shun followed, confused. “And those stashes… they’re packed with supplies we set aside for the winter,” Shun said thoughtfully.

Minho’s eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. “Exactly. They think they have our resources under control, but? They’re practically pre-made traps. We know where they’ll be, and with a bit of planning, we can turn this to our advantage.”

Gu, Tao, and Shun exchanged glances, the gears turning in their minds as they tried to piece together her plan but still couldn’t understand clearly what she was getting at. But Minho’s grin widened, her confidence infectious. “Let’s start preparing for a reply they won’t forget.”

With that she began to outline her idea, Shun shook his head, chuckling “Sounds bold, Xiao Minho,” he said. “But, by the way… your punch form is terrible. You’ll need to work on that if you’re serious about this.”

Minho stuck her tongue out at him playfully and threw another punch at him, sharper this time. The others couldn’t help but smile, caught up in her fierce resolve and the unexpected hope it brought to them all.

In the head office room of the Greenwood Brotherhood Fortress, Yu Ryang sat alone, a twisted smile playing on his lips as he reviewed his latest schemes. He had carefully crafted these plans, knowing exactly how to undermine the remnants of the Thunder Sky Brotherhood. Hanging their deads bodies at town entrances wasn’t just a brutal warning; it was a psychological attack aimed straight at Tao, one of the Thunder Sky survivors, he knew was a religious woman. Her deep sense of honor for her fallen comrades would undoubtedly provoke her, pushing her—and the remaining allies—toward frustration and internal conflict. This display of disrespect would weaken their unity, and as word spread, it would work as an intimidation tactic to cow any other brotherhoods hiding out there.

Yet this was only the beginning.

Turning to the documents on his desk, Yu Ryang studied his larger plan. He had a four-year window, guaranteed by his arrangement with the Empress and her Imperial Pavilion of Law and Order, during which there would be no imperial intervention in the Jing Mountains. But Yu Ryang’s ambitions went far beyond holding off the Empire—he envisioned himself as the ruler of these lands, a king in his own right. However, claiming kingship in the Jing Mountains without external support was risky. The Central Plains Empire would never allow an upstart to declare a new kingdom under its nose. Thus, he had reached out.

The Frost Kingdom, being a rival to the Central Plains Empire, could play a critical role in his plan. Yu Ryang had already sent a letter to the Royal Council of the Frost Kingdom, offering them a proposal: he would allow their forces to claim the Jing Mountains as conquered territory. Officially, it would appear as if the Frost Kingdom had seized control of the mountains, establishing them as their own domain. From there, the Frost Kingdom could appoint him as king, a vassal monarch ruling an independent Jing Mountains Kingdom.

For the Frost Kingdom, the deal was ideal. It would grant them a crucial buffer zone against the Central Plains Empire, creating a shield on their border without sacrificing their own forces. Should the Empire try to reclaim the Jing Mountains, they would first have to deal with Yu Ryang’s proxy kingdom, giving the Frost Kingdom a first line of defense. And for Yu Ryang, it would grant him the throne he craved while solidifying an alliance with a power strong enough to counterbalance the Central Plains Empire’s reach.

A quiet chuckle escaped him as he imagined the Imperial authorities caught off-guard. The Jing Mountains, long contested but never fully conquered, would no longer be under the Empire’s shadow. And with the backing of the Frost Kingdom, Yu Ryang’s power would rise unchecked. He would be more than just the leader of a gang of bandits; he would be the crowned ruler of a new kingdom, the first monarch of the Jing Mountains, wielding his power over both the Greenwood Brotherhood and the region’s other factions.

Yes, he thought, everything was falling into place. Soon, the Jing Mountains would belong to him, and with the Frost Kingdom’s support, not even the Empire would be able to stop his ascension.