A group of people from Blackstone Stronghold surrounded them.
The men wielding iron hammers eyed them like hungry tigers, ready to pounce at any moment.
The atmosphere instantly grew tense, swords drawn and bows bent.
Zhou Tieshan's expression remained unchanged. Resting one hand on his saber's hilt, he swept his gaze over the crowd and asked gravely, "Brothers of Blackstone Stronghold, what is the meaning of this?"
The people of Blackstone Stronghold remained silent. No one answered him.
A moment later, a commotion arose at the back of the crowd.
The people of Blackstone Stronghold parted to make a path.
An elderly man with graying hair and a somewhat stooped figure slowly approached, leaning on a black walking stick.
The old man wore coarse hemp clothing. Deep wrinkles lined his face as though carved by blades and axes, and his cloudy eyes held a measure of helplessness and bitterness.
Zhou Tieshan narrowed his eyes at the old man.
He recognized him. His name was Xu Zhenyue, the old chief of Blackstone Stronghold, where he commanded great respect. He had always been responsible for paying rent to the Crouching Tiger Manor.
Blackstone Stronghold currently leased a red iron ore vein from the Crouching Tiger Manor. Mining it for the Mountain Manor was their main source of income.
Xu Zhenyue approached and shakily cupped his hands toward Zhou Tieshan. His aged voice was steeped in exhaustion. "Captain Zhou, my respects."
Zhou Tieshan nodded in return. "You're too kind, Chief Xu."
Xu Zhenyue sighed, profound helplessness appearing on his wrinkled face. "Manor Guard Zhou, it isn't that we at Blackstone Stronghold don't understand the rules. We truly... truly have no other choice. In times like these, life is hard..."
He raised his sleeve and dabbed at the nonexistent tears in the corners of