Chapter 472: Making a Contribution

Translator: Tim Editor: GlobeGlotter

Ye Mo knew Xiang Mingwang would be angered by any doubt about his sect's supremacy. Indeed, Xiang Mingwang yelled, “How dare you! Our Gourd Cave originates from Zuo Ci of the late Han Dynasty, boasting over 2000 years of history! How can ordinary sects compare?”

The elder beside Xiang Mingwang quickly interjected, “Sect Leader merely means our sect has a history exceeding 2000 years. He doesn’t intend to disparage other sects.”

Xiang Mingwang, seeming to realize his words were offensive, glared at Ye Mo.

Ye Mo smiled. “But Old Man Xiang, you said Gourd Cave was built 100 years ago, yet now it’s 2000? Aren’t you misleading everyone?”

“You—” Xiang Mingwang pointed at Ye Mo. “I, Xiang Mingwang, never lie. Our Gourd Cave’s origins are 1800 years old, but I said we built the cave 100 years ago. What’s wrong with that?”

Ye Mo shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

Xiang Mingwang, knowing Ye Mo was being deliberate, laughed angrily. “Fine, I’ll enlighten you. 120 years ago, our Gourd Cave’s first ancestor found Great Ancestor Zuo Ci’s ancient ruins and established the sect there. This is common knowledge; would I lie about that?”

The other elder wondered why Ye Mo asked. Before he could ponder further, Ye Mo continued, “Then Zuo Ci must have left behind considerable knowledge, correct?”

Xiang Mingwang sneered, “That’s our business!”

People were starting to understand Ye Mo’s intention, but Xiang Mingwang was too enraged to see it.

Ye Mo sneered. So hidden sects were formed from inherited knowledge. Self-creation of cultivation methods was impossible.

“Hearing Sect Leader Xiang’s words, I feel ashamed and admire his uprightness. He’s right; those who discover ancient martial arts relics should share them. Thankfully, I realized this before it was too late, or I’d be ashamed to face my fellow Chinese ancient martial artists.”

Ye Mo stood, cupped his hands, and said, “I’ve given a dagger and pill, yet my heritage is far less than Gourd Cave’s. Since Sect Leader Xiang claims a 2000-year history, you must possess much greater knowledge to share. I, and everyone here, eagerly await seeing it.”

Ye Mo then looked at Xiang Mingwang. “Sect Leader Xiang, it’s your turn to contribute. I didn’t expect to receive anything from you, but I’m grateful nonetheless.”

“You! Ye Mo, are you toying with me? Do you think my sword isn't sharp?!” Xiang Mingwang, realizing Ye Mo’s ploy, drew his sword.

Ye Mo stood, stared coldly, and said, “Sect Leader Xiang, you mean others must contribute their heritage, but you keep yours? What logic is that? I ask everyone here to judge: if you think Sect Leader Xiang should keep what he has, while I must give mine away, I’ll say no more.”

Everyone understood, but none dared speak.

Ye Mo laughed. “Since no one’s objecting, Sect Leader Xiang should also contribute, then?”

Xiang Mingwang’s face turned green. He’d tripped himself. This sly little bastard! He resolved to punish Ye Mo.

A heavy silence fell. Ye Mo had cornered Xiang Mingwang. The man beside Xiang Mingwang whispered in his ear, and Xiang Mingwang’s expression calmed.

He looked at Ye Mo sardonically, produced a bag, and said, “You’re right; we should contribute. We’ll offer everything we planned to trade. But can you offer anything else?”

Ye Mo’s spirit sense had already scanned the bag. It contained what Gourd Cave intended to trade. He’d achieved his goal.

Ye Mo looked at his own bag, worriedly grabbed it, and muttered, “I’ve traded everything; only pots remain.”

He then ‘accidentally’ allowed the sound of clashing weapons to be heard. Xiang Mingwang sneered, “Perhaps others will want those pots. They’re ancestral heirlooms. Let’s both put everything on the table for everyone.”

Though reluctant, Xiang Mingwang felt it worthwhile to force Ye Mo to trade his weapons and pills. He wouldn’t believe Ye Mo carried only pots unless he was mad. Seeing Ye Mo’s grim face, he knew more weapons and pills were inside.

Ye Mo looked troubled and turned to Wang Lenchan. “Wang, I needn’t discuss your family’s history; everyone knows it. Aren’t you contributing to Chinese ancient martial arts, like me and Sect Leader Xiang?”

Ye Mo was bluffing; he didn’t know if the Wang family had inherited anything.

Wang Lenchan’s face changed. Two-thirds of his items remained untraded; he’d lose much by revealing them.

Xiang Mingwang, sure Ye Mo was avoiding contribution, said to Wang Lenchan, “Brother Wang, perhaps one dagger is worth everything.”

Wang Lenchan understood Xiang Mingwang’s plan—one dagger and pill would recoup his losses. He dumped his bag on the table.

Ye Mo’s face was even more bitter. He pretended to hide something, but the sound of weapons clanking betrayed him. He couldn’t cheat with everyone watching.

Everyone saw Ye Mo as a clown.

Wang Lenchan cleared his throat. “We’ve contributed. But if someone inflates prices and prevents sales, wouldn’t our words be meaningless?”

Ye Mo stood. “It’s their property; they decide the price.”

“No, that would render our discussion useless. The price should be—”

“Should be what? Free for anyone who wants it?” Ye Mo sneered.

“Fine, let’s do that! For the development of Chinese ancient martial arts, we should offer full support. Free is true support,” Wang Lenchan said.