Yan Mo glanced at Meng, a faint smile curving his lips.
Now that the situation had been clarified and he’d figured out how to handle it, the pent-up frustration that had been weighing on his heart vanished completely.
Not telling Meng about Yuanji’s situation the moment they met was nothing more than a petty act of revenge—a way of saying, “If you won’t let me be happy, I’ll make sure you’re unhappy too.”
At first, when Zhu Neng told him that Meng had agreed to let the second group of dwarves move in, he had indeed been seething with anger.
From the series of incidents sparked by Dofei, he had realized that while Meng might be an excellent warrior, he had one major flaw: he wasn’t stubborn—he was too easily swayed!
That might be forgivable when it came to his own people, but his lack of firm principles toward outsiders—those whose loyalties were unclear—was absolutely intolerable.
However, Meng’s personality was basically set in stone. He likely knew himself that he wasn’t cut out to be a leader or a decision-maker, so no matter how much one tried to correct him, he would only reflect on his mistakes and regret them afterward; no amount of preemptive advice would do any good.
For someone with a face thicker than a city wall who couldn’t remember others’ warnings, only fists could teach him a lesson. But before that, he wanted to collect some interest.
Earlier, seeing Er Meng’s anxious and cautious expression like he wanted to ask but was too afraid to, Yan Mo had only one thought: I won’t tell you. Let it eat you up inside! Who told you to cause me a heap of trouble?!
So when he finally heard Meng ask the question he’d been dying to ask, his reply consisted of just three sentences, “Want to know? It depends on my mood. Or, when you get rid of those dwarves blocking our front door, that’s when I’ll tell you.”
Meng, “……” What should I do? I really want to kill the priest.
Seeing Meng’s agonized expression—as if he wanted to pounce and bite him but dared not face the consequences—Yan Mo burst out laughing and waved his hand, ordering Meng to bring in all the tribal leaders.
In truth, he was desperate for rest. Even a long-haul flight in first class was grueling, let alone spending five days on a leaky raft with nothing but a small wooden stool to sit on. Even when they landed on the island at night, he couldn’t sleep well due to the unfamiliar surroundings and the weight of his worries. Now that he was back in Jiuyuan City, all he wanted was to find a safe, sturdy stone house where he could just collapse and sleep.
But he was the priest of Jiuyuan. His power was matched only by his responsibility. Did he want a more comfortable, more carefree life? Then he’d have to deal with the tribe’s enemies first.
Besides, he really wasn’t the forgiving type. With enemies already at his doorstep, if he didn’t put up a fight, he might as well change his name to Jesus Yan.
He hadn’t slept a wink, and starting today, those dwarves wouldn’t get a single peaceful night’s sleep either!
Yan Mo still underestimated himself too much. In truth, even if he’d returned today and done nothing but go straight to bed, those dwarf chiefs likely wouldn’t have been able to sleep tonight either.
Yan Mo’s return wasn’t exactly a grand spectacle, but for the Luoluo tribe, who had been monitoring every move in Jiuyuan City, seeing him arrive via a vessel they’d never seen before—sailing directly from the river to the South City Gate—and having several of Jiuyuan’s warriors rush out to greet him was more than enough to catch their attention.
No sooner had Yan Mo been welcomed into the city that the dwarves monitoring the situation had already swiftly relayed the news back to the Luoluo tribe.
Logan, the chief of the Luoluo tribe, had a thick beard and a booming voice that rang out like a great bell. He liked to wave his left hand when he spoke, and if you looked closely, you’d notice that he was missing a finger on that hand.
“If he can have the merfolk warriors escort him to the city gates and even have the commander of the Jiuyuan warriors come out personally to greet him, then that human boy is most likely the Ancestral God priest that Langlang and the others spoke of, isn’t he?”
A female dwarf sat inside the crude stone hut, but she appeared to be asleep.
“Ancestral Shaman Opa!” Logan bellowed.
The female dwarf’s head swayed slightly as she slowly lifted it. She was a very old woman, her face deeply wrinkled, her eyes half-closed as if she were still half-asleep. Strangely, her long hair remained jet-black and lustrous.
“Is the battle about to begin?” The little old woman lifted her eyelids and reached for the staff resting beside her.
“Not yet, but their priest has returned.”
“Oh, so the battle hasn’t started yet. Wake me up when it does.” With that, the little old woman closed her eyes and began to snore softly.
“Ancestral Shaman Opa!”
“Huu—”
“Kathi said that human priest is quite powerful. He knows so much. Just look at this city! Could you have imagined it before seeing it?”
“Huff—”
“Although we outnumber them, they have the merfolk on their side. Ancestral Shaman Opa, I sent you to meet the merfolk’s tribal shaman. Did you see him? Did he agree not to interfere with those humans?”
“Huuu—”
Logan, “…Why hasn’t the Mother Goddess taken you away yet?”
The little old woman, “Huuu—”
Logan decided to bypass this little old woman who could never get enough sleep and go straight to the elders to talk. The other side’s priest had returned; perhaps they were about to face a war tomorrow!
While the Luoluo chief and elders were solemnly discussing how to prepare for battle, Yan Mo—whose spirits had once again brightened—maintained a gentle smile throughout his meeting with the various tribal leaders and the Worwo dwarves.
The leaders took turns reporting on their duties in the Common Tongue, which they were still not entirely fluent in. During the proceedings, some lodged complaints against the dwarves; not only the Luoluo tribe that had arrived later, but also the first group of dwarves, the Worwo tribe, had made numerous grievances as voiced by the A’wu tribe. However, they were unanimous in their praise for the merfolk.
Yan Mo nodded in approval to everyone who reported, assured them he would handle the complaints seriously, and did not forget to offer a word or two of encouragement to the leaders at the end.
Those presenting their reports were all beaming with smiles, forming a stark contrast to the grim expressions of the warriors standing and listening in the hall.
Once Yan Mo had gained a basic understanding of all the changes and major events that had occurred in the tribe during this period, he did not dismiss the leaders but asked them all to stay. He then invited the three representatives of the Worwo tribe to join them.
Although some leaders had lodged complaints against the Worwo tribe, given that they had helped the tribe drive the belligerent Luoluo tribe out of the inner city, the other leaders, including the old tribal shaman, showed no signs of displeasure upon seeing them; instead, they greeted one another warmly.
Only Sha Lang remained cold-faced from the moment the dwarves entered, as if every one of them owed her a debt of ten catties of salt.
The Worwo tribe’s spokesperson was Ancestral Shaman Kathi, who was generally known for her tactful speech. After the formalities, Kathi first recounted the Worwo tribe’s achievements—how, in a very short time, they had worked together with the A’wu tribe to construct suspension bridges, stone houses, and simple footbridges. She then went on to describe their difficulties and concerns, emphasizing that the later-arriving dwarves were not of their tribe, though some of their own people remained among them. Finally, she subtly hinted that they were very fond of Jiuyuan and wished to stay here.
Yan Mo listened with a constant smile, as if he had no idea what the Worwo tribe and the later-arriving dwarves had actually done.
“I am aware of the situation. As for how to handle it specifically, since our chief is absent, I cannot make this decision alone. Having lived among the people of Jiuyuan for so long, you must surely understand that whenever our tribe must decide on a major matter, it requires the Judging Council to discuss and decide together. Once our chief returns, we will convene the Judging Council to thoroughly discuss your requests and hopes.”
Chief Langlang and Elder Zarza appeared to be rash, but while Yan Mo was speaking, they had been quietly observing his expression. Seeing that he showed no signs of anger or dissatisfaction from start to finish, and that he spoke in a consistently calm and amiable manner, they were unable to fathom his true intentions for the time being.
Ever since the Luoluo tribe caused trouble and were expelled from the city, the leaders of the Worwo tribe have gathered for no fewer than ten meetings. They feared that the Jiuyuan people would drive them out as well, and were even more worried that the Divine Blood Warrior Yuan Zhan and the Ancestral God Priest Yan Mo would return to take revenge on them. However, after several rounds of discussion, they all agreed that although the Jiuyuan were powerful, their numbers were too small. Although the dwarves were merely temporary residents, their population—combined with that of the Luoluo tribe—far exceeded that of Jiuyuan. Moreover, they had been actively seeking to establish ties with the merfolk. Even if Jiuyuan and the dwarves were to come to blows in the future, the merfolk might not necessarily side with Jiuyuan. Therefore, the likelihood of Jiuyuan turning against them immediately was very low. If they adopted a slightly tougher stance, they might even secure greater benefits.
Now that Yan Mo had returned, seeing his attitude had confirmed their suspicions—Jiuyuan had indeed backed down. If that was the case, might they be able to push further?
Langlang gave Kathi a meaningful look.
Kathi saw it, but she didn’t reveal the Worwo tribe’s latest plans as originally intended. Perhaps it was the intuition of an ancestral shaman, or perhaps Yan Mo’s impression of her from their earlier rent negotiations was too strong—she simply felt that this young priest across from her wasn’t someone to be easily swayed, nor did he seem like the type to keep backing down. Besides, he had returned from his trip as a Level 3 Warrior.
Not only did Kathi remain silent herself, but when Elder Zarza was on the verge of blurting something out, she decisively excused herself from Yan Mo and forcibly led the tribal chief and the elder out of the council hall.
Setting aside the internal squabbling among the Worwo tribe’s dwarves after they left, back in the hall, Yan Mo rested one hand on the arm of his chair and asked Meng, who was closest to him, with a faint smile, “Did you catch that?”
“What?” Meng didn’t have the heart to admit that halfway through, his mind had already wandered to how he could better train himself.
Yan Mo flicked his fingers.
“Ouch! That hurts! What just stabbed me?” Meng let out a loud cry, clutching his cheek as he looked around for the culprit.
Yan Mo flicked his fingers again, ensuring Meng never got a glimpse of the weapon that had caused the pain.
Meng rubbed his cheek and shot Yan Mo several suspicious glances, but since he hadn’t seen his movements clearly—let alone the weapon—he didn’t dare accuse him of being the culprit.
Everyone in the hall turned to look at Meng, but none of them had noticed what had injured him. They just thought his cry was exaggerated; several of them even suspected he was shouting so loudly on purpose to win the Lord Priest’s sympathy.
Meng was seething with frustration, with nowhere to vent his anger. He didn’t know what had struck his cheekbone, but it really hurt! Even now, the sharp pain hadn’t subsided.
Wu Chen’s eyes sparkled. His master had struck him—it had to be!
“What about you? Did any of you catch the hidden meaning in the dwarves’ words?” Yan Mo surveyed the other leaders.
“They have ulterior motives!” Hu Hu, who assisted Meng in overseeing the city’s construction and planning, was the first to speak up. “They’re disobedient again! They need a beating!”
“A severe beating.”
Yan Mo glanced at Sha Lang, who slammed her fist down and repeated, “They don’t listen to the adults—they need a good thrashing!”
The old tribal shaman Wu Cheng and the former A’wu Clan Chief Mu Changming also agreed that these dwarves needed a lesson, whether they were from the Luoluo tribe or the Worwo tribe.
“They’re snooping around for salt.” Mu Changming felt that this alone was reason enough not to let the dwarves stay.
Sa Yun added, “They’re digging tunnels to steal the looms.”
Yan Mo had taught them the term “loom.” Since Sa Yun had invented the loom before the merfolk tribe, she took great pride in it, remembering the word clearly and using it with ease.
Yan Mo leaned back in his chair and smiled. “The A’wu people have become cunning too—and in such a short time! On the surface, they’re all friendly with the dwarves, but deep down, every one of them has their own hidden agenda. Should I take credit for teaching them so well?”
“From what I gathered from the Worwo tribe just now, they probably want us to carve out a section of our territory in Jiuyuan for them to build a city.”
As soon as those words were spoken, everyone’s expressions darkened, and Hu Hu immediately muttered a curse under his breath.
Er Meng snapped his head up. “Did they say that?” He regretted not having listened more carefully earlier.
“They didn’t say it outright, but that’s exactly what they meant. Didn’t you see their elder and chief? They were practically jumping up and shouting at me, ‘It’s such a waste for so few of you to occupy such a large city—you’d be better off giving it to us.’”
“They dare!” Er Meng might be soft-hearted, but once he determined who was friend or foe, he was the type to turn on someone and kill them on the spot.
“Of course they dare—and they’ve already done it.”
“We… are too few.” Sha Lang cut straight to the heart of the matter.
Meng immediately snapped, “I’ll lead my men and drive every dwarf out of the city!”
“With just a few dozen of you? Aren’t you worried the dwarves might have tampered with the drawbridge? Or that they’ve already dug tunnels through our sewers to the outer city?” Yan Mo’s question was directed not only at Meng, but at everyone present.
Meng hurriedly replied, “Wu Chen, Sha Lang, and I have discussed this. We’ve inspected both the drawbridge and the sewers multiple times…”
Yan Mo shook his head. “If they wanted to tamper with them, they would never let you catch them.”
“But the Worwo tribe helped us drive the Luoluo tribe out of the inner city later on.” Sa Yun seemed unable to wrap her head around this.
Yan Mo sighed. “They’re showing us through their actions that they can be our friends, or they can be our enemies.”
While no one looked completely bewildered, it was clear they hadn’t quite grasped what he meant.
Yan Mo had no choice but to explain it more clearly, “The emergence of the Luoluo tribe presents a tremendous opportunity for the Worwo tribe, and it gives them the confidence to stand up to us. If we agree to cede a portion of our territory to them, they likely won’t intervene in our dispute with the Luoluo tribe—perhaps remaining neutral—and they could use this opportunity to negotiate the release of their members from the Luoluo tribe. But if we refuse them and continue to demand rent, they will likely join forces with the Luoluo tribe to forcibly seize a portion of our territory.”
This time, everyone understood, and a palpable tension filled the hall.
Yan Mo continued, “Why was I so angry that the Worwo tribe built their houses without following the blueprints? It wasn’t because they disrupted the city’s overall structure, but because they were using this to test our limits. And by failing to curb their ambitions from the start—by letting them build haphazardly—we effectively indulged their greed, emboldening them further.”
Meng lowered his head in embarrassment. Although Yan Mo hadn’t named him, he bore significant responsibility for the series of troubles caused by the dwarves. At the time, he had thought it was a minor issue; he had even mocked Mo’s blueprints, reasoning that with such a vast inner city and so few of them, it didn’t matter where they built their houses.
The others also looked ashamed. This wasn’t Lord Meng’s fault alone. He had consulted them all, and aside from Sha Lang—the most xenophobic and hardline among them—even Wu Chen had agreed to let the Luoluo tribe in.
Wu Chen felt he had learned a great deal from his master and had accomplished some impressive feats, earning plenty of praise. No matter how level-headed he was, he was still just a child, and naturally, he began to harbor a smug belief that he was more capable than his own clan members—especially after he had awakened his bloodline abilities.
When they were discussing whether to let the Luoluo tribe into the city, he thought that just as his master could control the Worwo tribe to help Jiuyuan build houses and dig sewers, he should be able to make the Luoluo tribe work obediently. But in reality, the language barrier immediately caused communication problems between him and the Luoluo tribe. Then there was the issue of combat strength: while it was true that he had awakened his abilities, the Luoluo tribe actually had at least three Divine Blood Warriors, and the lowest-ranked among them was still a Level 2!
Fortunately, just as they were about to lose control of the Luoluo tribe, the merfolk stepped in to help, and the Worwo tribe also sided with them, finally driving the Luoluo tribe out to the outer city.
“Master, Sir, I…” The more Wu Chen thought about it, the worse he felt; he didn’t deserve to be Master Mo’s disciple. He even began to feel that he wasn’t even as good as Sa Yu’s three-year-old younger brother.
Yan Mo raised his hand and tapped Wu Chen’s forehead with a finger. “I asked you to offer your opinion to everyone, not to participate in the decision-making. Meng and the others are the ones making the decisions; they bear the greatest responsibility. But that doesn’t mean you’re entirely without fault. You need to think carefully about where you went wrong and why. Handling situations isn’t like solving a math problem with only one correct answer. Sometimes, the approach you’re taking now might actually be the best one if the context were different.”
Yan Mo was lecturing Wu Chen, and Sa Yu listened intently as well. Technically, he wasn’t qualified to be here, but when he walked in, Master Mo hadn’t shooed him away, so the others had tacitly allowed him to stay.
The two children listened intently, and the adults pricked up their ears as well. They understood that the Lord Priest wasn’t just teaching his disciples—he was teaching them, too.
Wu Chen took a deep breath, pushing all negative emotions aside. He vowed to do better in the future. These past two months had made one thing crystal clear to him: just because the master is great doesn’t mean the disciple will be too—he was still too green!
“Also, don’t take urban planning lightly. With so few people now, you might not feel its importance, but once the population grows, you’ll realize just how crucial the initial planning is…”
The meeting in the hall was still ongoing. Although Kathi and the others had left the council chamber, they hadn’t gone far. They’d been waiting for the people inside to come out, hoping to get a sense of the mood, but after waiting a long time, they hadn’t seen a single soul.
Langlang and Zarza, who had been arguing, had fallen silent at some point.
Kathi looked down at her feet. As the sun was about to set, she lifted her head and said softly to Langlang, “Let’s go see Logan and the others tonight.”
Yan Mo had returned—major changes were bound to happen in Jiuyuan City!
