Chương 17: Returning the Ancient Armguards

Yang Fan drained the tea from his cup in one gulp, then stared longingly at the teapot in the Divine Minister's hand.

"Divine Minister, is there any more?"

"Not a single drop. This tea only works the first time you drink it." The Divine Minister looked at Yang Fan's disappointed face and continued, "Young friend Set Sail, you did not come here just for tea, did you? I already know why you are here."

"How do you know that?" Yang Fan asked, his face full of surprise. The Divine Minister said calmly, "Ji Yue Liao sent word to me just now."

"Who is Ji Yue Liao? That Divine Officer?" Yang Fan thought for a moment. It had to be the Divine Officer from the White Tiger Temple branch who had tipped off the Divine Minister. The Divine Minister smiled faintly, did not explain who Ji Yue Liao was, and continued, "I also know that you possess a pair of armguards belonging to the First Generation Metal Chief." Yang Fan shot to his feet in shock upon hearing the word "armguards." He could no longer sit still.

He seriously suspected this Divine Minister could read minds. How else could he know everything about him? He stepped back several paces, keeping a distance of about three meters between himself and the Divine Minister, thinking that this man was dangerous. If the Minister decided to kill him and take the treasure, he would need a head start to escape. As if reading his thoughts, the Divine Minister offered reassurance.

"Do not worry, young friend. I will not harm you. However, I do need the armguards you carry. Name your terms."

"Then tell me where Ying Yao is. Give me his location." Yang Fan had no intention of handing over the bronze armguards. He was no fool. From their conversation, he already knew that the owner of these armguards was the First Generation Metal Chief, the founding patriarch of the White Tiger Temple. His disciple would certainly be someone of immense power. Giving the armguards to a mere Divine Minister was far less rewarding than delivering them to the patriarch's own disciple.

"I do know where Elder Ying lives, but I cannot tell you." The Divine Minister explained, "Elder Ying prefers solitude and hates being disturbed. He will not see ordinary visitors. Besides, his temper is not the best. If you accidentally offend him, it could cost you your life. I can relay a message on your behalf if you wish." Relay a message? Yang Fan sneered inwardly. This was clearly an attempt to claim the armguards for himself.

But he had already determined that Ying Yao was a much bigger deal than this Divine Minister. That made things simple. He decided to bluff.

"Divine Minister, the First Generation Metal Chief personally entrusted these armguards to me. He explicitly instructed me to deliver them to his disciple, Ying Yao. If I gave them to anyone else and the Metal Chief found out, there would be consequences."

"What? The Metal Chief is still alive? I never expected that. So that is how it is. No wonder..." Upon hearing this, the Divine Minister's composed demeanor completely crumbled. His expression grew serious, his face losing its usual calm. A look of disbelief washed over him, his aura flickering with instability. The collected Minister was now visibly shaken, his lips pressed tight, all traces of his usual composure gone. Yang Fan watched the Minister's dramatic reaction and knew his bluff had worked.

He pressed his advantage, pressing for Ying Yao's location.

"Yes, the Metal Chief is alive and well. He is simply busy and could not come himself, so he asked me to deliver them. He made it clear that the armguards were for Ying Yao alone and no one else. So I cannot give them to you. Please understand." If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. The Divine Minister slowly composed himself, pushing down his shock and regaining his composure, though traces of unease still lingered in his eyes.

He realized he had lost his poise and acted beneath the dignity of a Divine Minister. After a moment of thought, he gave Yang Fan the location of Ying Yao's residence. Then, clearly unsettled, he left in a hurry, leaving Yang Fan alone in the Spirit Officer Hall. Yang Fan opened his map and found the location the Divine Minister had indicated. It was in the eastern district of Longxi Prefecture. Ying Yao actually lived in the same prefecture.

He left the White Tiger Temple, walked through the city streets, and entered the eastern district. This area was mostly old residential buildings, far from the bustling commercial center. The streets were narrow and winding, the bluestone paving worn smooth by years of foot traffic. Low, old houses lined both sides, their walls faded and peeling, their roofs warped with age. Few people passed through, and the atmosphere was quiet and desolate, a stark contrast to the orderly prosperity of the city center.

Following the map, Yang Fan arrived at a particular house. It was extremely run-down, its low courtyard wall crumbling and missing chunks of plaster, exposing rough brickwork beneath. Dried, tangled vines covered the wall, weaving together in a dense, chaotic mesh that wrapped the entire yard in a thick layer of neglect. It looked abandoned and lifeless. Yang Fan knocked on the door, but no one answered. However, the quest prompt indicated that someone was definitely inside.

He thought for a moment, concluding that the occupant simply did not want to see visitors. That made sense. A reclusive master would not respond to just anyone knocking on his door. So he kept knocking and called out loudly, "Ying Yao, are you home? I have your master's armguards! Open up!" Still no response. Yang Fan was getting frustrated. After all his effort, dragging the bronze armguards across half the province, the intended recipient would not even see him. What was he supposed to do now?

Break down the door? That would be a terrible idea. If he angered the old man inside, he would likely get himself killed. Then an idea struck him. He pulled out one bronze armguard, aimed it over the courtyard wall, and tossed it lightly. The armguard arced gracefully over the wall and landed inside the yard.

"Who dares to throw hidden weapons at me!" A figure leaped over the wall and landed on the ground outside the house. The man wore an old, faded black felt hat, its brim slightly lowered. He had on a coarse gray shirt, bleached white from years of washing, its edges frayed and loose-fitting. His pants were old, the cuffs unevenly torn off, ending just above the knees and covered in dust. He was an old man, his hair and beard completely white, but his skin was firm and ruddy, without the wrinkles of age.

His eyes were dark and sharp, piercing. His left hand held the bronze armguard, and his right hand gripped an old clay gourd, likely filled with wine. The air around him reeked of alcohol. This was Ying Yao. He stared at the person who had just disturbed his sleep.

"You did this. Good. You can die now." Yang Fan quickly stopped him.

"Wait, old master! Do not attack! Your master sent me!"

"Hmm?" Ying Yao paused, his brow furrowing. Yang Fan continued, "Look at the armguard in your hand. Is it not your master's? I have another one in my bag." Ying Yao raised the armguard and examined it closely. His eyes widened.

"It truly is. But why is it Bronze quality? Could it be that Master..." Seeing that the old man had recognized the armguard, Yang Fan breathed a sigh of relief. The Divine Minister had been right about Ying Yao's temper. He would have been dead if he had not spoken up in time. He opened his backpack, took out the other armguard, and handed it over.

"You are Ying Yao, correct? Your master asked me to deliver these to you." Ying Yao glanced at Yang Fan, took the other armguard, and turned to walk back into his house. System Notification: "Congratulations. You have completed the quest: Return the Bronze Armguards." Yang Fan was stunned. That was it? He checked his character panel, his skill list, his inventory. Nothing had changed except that the bronze armguards were gone. What was this? Where was the promised reward?

He had taken the blame for the stronghold lord's death, dodged the Qi Clan's assassins, bluffed his way past a Divine Officer, outwitted a Divine Minister, and finally delivered the armguards. And he did not even get a thank you. Who needed a thank you? He needed epic rewards! Something was not right. This was an Epic Quest. The system would not just give him nothing. There had to be a step he had missed.