A thunderous roar erupted from the crowd, a wave of sound that shook the very ground, as the Tam brothers, having just executed their flawless archery performance, strode back to their teammates on the sidelines, who were already erupting in cheers, their faces alight with pride.
"How'd we do?" Tam Kun asked, a hint of triumphant swagger in his voice as he looked at his beaming teammates, his chest puffed out.
Yu Lei shot him a thumbs-up, his grin wide, a silent affirmation. "Perfect as always, Brother Kun! You were incredible!"
The judge stepped forward again, his voice cutting through the lingering applause, commanding silence with his authoritative presence. "Because only five teams remain, we have unanimously decided to conclude the annual competition today," he announced, his gaze sweeping over the remaining hopefuls. "Therefore, everyone needs to be ready within half an hour for the final round!"
The ten brothers huddled, forming a tight circle, arms linked across each other's shoulders, a silent testament to their unity, their faces grim with determination.
"This is the last round, brothers," Zheng Yaozu declared, his voice firm with resolve, his eyes burning with ambition. "Last year we were fourth. This year, we aim for first! For the The Brotherhood! Zhaohui, you lead us off. Then Ah Lei and Ah Xian. Next, Tingfeng and me. Following us are Weisheng and Weimin. Yongrui, you're our anchor leg; you're last, the one who will bring us victory." He looked at Ho Jinhai, the gong striker, their captain. "As soon as Brother Fu crosses that finish line, you hit the gong immediately, understand?!"
Ho Jinhai nodded vigorously, his eyes wide with responsibility. "I understand. I won't fail!"
"Best of luck to everyone," Ho Jinhai offered, his voice sincere, a genuine wish for their success.
Tam Kun turned to Ho Jinhai, a genuine smile replacing his usual playful grin, a rare moment of earnestness. "You're the best Captain, Brother Ho. Last year, Bolin did such a poor job wrapping my bow that it broke on the fourth arrow. We almost lost everything!"
Tam Liang chimed in, a wry chuckle in his voice, recalling the past frustration. "Bolin also misplaced our names and screwed us up in the final! It was a disaster!" He grinned, a grateful warmth in his eyes. "Brother Ho, thanks for everything. You've been amazing."
Ho Jinhai returned their smiles, a light challenge in his eyes. "Thank me after we win, brothers. The victory is not yet ours."
Tian Xian's gaze flickered between Guozhao Zhaohui and Fu Yongrui, the first and last runners. "Zhaohui and Yongrui," he stressed, his voice serious, "our outcome depends on you two. You carry our hopes."
"I will try my best, Brother Xian," Fu Yongrui promised, his voice earnest, his jaw set with determination.
"Brother Fu," Tam Kun asked, a curious glint in his eye, "are your parents and brother angry with you for not representing their team, but ours? The Fu Clan is strong."
Fu Yongrui shook his head, a proud smile touching his lips. "No, they just told me to do my best for the team I represent. They support my choices."
"Cool," Tam Kun grinned, clearly pleased by his answer. "That's true family."
"Hey," Yu Lei interjected playfully, nudging Fu Yongrui, "don't go easy just because Lotus Sector is still in the competition! They're tough!"
"What do you take me for, Brother Lei?" Fu Yongrui retorted, feigning offense, his hand on his chest. "I valued our brotherhood's bond!"
"A brother," Yu Lei said simply, giving Fu Yongrui a wide, genuine smile, his eyes filled with affection. "One of us."
"I'm not that kind of person," Fu Yongrui stated, a newfound pride in his voice, his chest swelling. "I have my own dignity. To be honest, I'm very happy to participate with you all. You've taught me the true meaning of brotherhood, something I never truly understood before."
The ten brothers placed their hands together, one atop the other, then lifted them high, a single, powerful roar echoing across the field, a declaration of their unity: "Let's do it! For the Brotherhood!"
The judge's voice cut through the air, sharp and clear. "The last person, please go to your position! Runners, ready!"
Fu Yongrui glanced towards the spectator stands, his heart fluttering with a mix of nerves and pride. He saw his father and mother seated, their faces alight with pride, their eyes fixed on him. His father offered a strong thumbs-up, echoed by his brother, Fu Pengfei. A wave of warmth washed over Fu Yongrui; he knew, with comforting certainty, that even though he wasn't competing for his own sector, his family's unwavering support was his greatest strength. It allowed him to relax, just a little, for the immense challenge ahead.
Next up were Fang Weisheng and Fang Weimin. One of the judges meticulously tied their hands tightly together, a shared rope binding them, symbolizing their inseparable bond. The crowd erupted, a cacophony of cheers, particularly from the young women, their voices shrill with adoration.
Fang Weisheng and Fang Weimin, both strikingly handsome, were identical except for a mere half-inch height difference, Weisheng being the taller. The Fang twins waved to their parents, their doting grandparents and their six beaming uncles. The crowd grew even more boisterous, a frantic swell of adoration as they blew kisses and waved enthusiastically to their female fans on the sidelines. Honestly, if blossom petals were permitted, the twins would have been buried in them the moment they stepped onto the field, such was their popularity.
General Tang watched his two great-grandsons, a soft, proud smile gracing his aged face. "As the twins grow, they look so much like Yaoting when he was their age," he mused, a nostalgic glint in his eye.
General Tang held a special reverence for the twins, not because he loved them more than his other great-grandsons, but because they were his first great-grandsons. Their birth had seemingly opened the floodgates for more great-grandsons, which was why General Tang and the six captains paid such close attention to them. They saw the twins as a powerful symbol of luck and good fortune for the Fang and Tang families.
Immediately afterward, Zheng Tingfeng and Zheng Yaozu walked to their position, directly behind Fang Weisheng and Fang Weimin. Behind the Zheng brothers were Tam Kun and Tam Liang. Then, Yu Lei and Tian Xian. For this relay, runners paired up had to tie one of their hands together, forcing them to move in perfect synchronization. Ho Jinhai, ever the meticulous captain, handed the cloth-wrapped wooden stick, striped red and white, to Guozhao Zhaohui, the first runner.
Guozhao Zhaohui smirked, a playful challenge in his eyes, his confidence radiating. "Running one lap around this field is easier than peeling a banana, Captain."
Ho Jinhai smiled, a rare, genuine smile. "Good luck, Brother Guozhao. See you back here at the finish line."
"Hmm," Guozhao Zhaohui hummed, taking the wrapped stick from Ho Jinhai and walking confidently to the starting line, his body poised for explosive speed.
The runners tensed, poised behind the line, their muscles coiled. The judge sounded the gong, a sharp, resonant clang. The race was on!
Guozhao Zhaohui exploded forward with incredible speed, a blur of motion, reaching Tian Xian and Yu Lei first, handing off the stick. Tian Xian and Yu Lei, knowing the importance of their swiftness, pushed themselves to their limits, their lungs burning. They were well aware that while Tam Kun and Tam Liang might be agile with their hands, their feet weren't quite as fast. The Yi and Hu teams were hot on their heels, pursuing them relentlessly, gaining ground.
"Brother Tam, get in position!" Ho Jinhai shouted, his voice laced with urgency, his eyes fixed on the approaching runners. "Here they come!"
Tam Kun and Tam Liang quickly strode to the starting line, just in time to receive the stick from Tian Xian and Yu Lei. They burst into motion, a powerful surge of speed, their synchronized steps eating up the ground. The Yi and Hu teams were now mere feet behind the Tam brothers, the gap closing.
As the Tam brothers neared their starting line, the Zheng brothers swiftly took their place, ready for the exchange. The Yi and Hu teams, however, were already ahead, having made their exchanges. The Zheng brothers and several other teams took off around the same time, the field a blur of motion, a chaotic race.
The Zheng brothers ran at their absolute fastest, their lungs burning, yet they watched in dismay as sticks were exchanged on other teams, the competition fierce. The Yi and Hu had already passed their exchange points, and the Wong team was gaining rapidly, a formidable opponent. They thrust the wooden stick into the outstretched hands of the Fang brothers, their last hope.
A thunderous cheer erupted from the crowd as the Fang twins took off, a synchronized blur of motion, their speed breathtaking. General Tang, the six captains, and Master and Madam Fang all leaped to their feet, roaring their encouragement, their voices hoarse with excitement. Their brothers and sisters on the sidelines screamed, "Faster! Faster! Faster! You can do it!"
"Get into position, Yongrui, they're coming!" Ho Jinhai yelled to Fu Yongrui, his voice urgent, his eyes fixed on the approaching runners.
Fu Yongrui walked to the middle of the track; his gaze fixed on the approaching Fang twins. They sprinted towards him, incredibly fast, and his heart began to pound a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He could hear it, a drumbeat in his ears. The Yi, Hu, and Huang runners had already surged past their exchange points and were racing towards the finish line, a desperate sprint. The Fang twins, a whirlwind of motion, handed the stick to Fu Yongrui, and he bolted, a desperate surge of energy, trailing behind the three leaders.
Fu Yongrui ran with everything he had, his lungs burning, his muscles screaming. Suddenly, the Wong runner in front of him stumbled and fell, directly blocking his path. Without a second thought, he leaped over the fallen competitor, never breaking stride, his focus unwavering. He sped past the Hu runner, the Yi runner still a tantalizing distance ahead, blazing towards the finish line. His legs screamed in protest, a heavy, leaden ache setting in. Then, a vivid memory flashed through his mind: the moment his brothers had invited him to join their team. Their words of encouragement. The shared moments of brotherhood, the grueling training they endured together. He heard his brothers' voices, a powerful, rhythmic chant of his name, and a surge of unexpected power coursed through him, pushing him beyond his limits. He sprinted towards the finish line, pushing past the pain, faster than he thought possible.
The crowd erupted into a unified chant: "Fu Yongrui! Fu Yongrui! Fu Yongrui!" The sound was deafening, a wave of pure adoration.
Madam Fu leaped to her feet, screaming with unbridled excitement, her voice piercing. "That's my son! That's my son!" she shrieked, pointing wildly at Fu Yongrui, utterly beside herself with joy.
"Mother, control yourself," Fu Pengfei murmured, a sheepish smile on his face, trying to calm her.
The instant Fu Yongrui surged across the finish line; Ho Jinhai brought the gong stick down with a resounding crash. A cloud of red and white powder, explosive and vibrant, erupted from the gong, painting the air in celebratory hues. The crowd's cheers, already deafening, swelled into a joyous roar as their home team clinched the victory.
Fu Yongrui crossed the finish line a full minute before Yu He, a triumphant victory.
Madam Fu let out another triumphant, piercing scream, her voice ringing with pride. "Ah... you see that?! He won! My son won!"
"Mother," Fu Pengfei chuckled, a fond exasperation in his voice, "he won, and our clan lost. We ranked fifth."
Madam Fu waved a dismissive hand, utterly delighted, her focus solely on her son's victory. "Who cares?! As long as my son wins, that's good enough for me!"
Master Fu and Fu Pengfei exchanged amused glances, both laughing at Madam Fu's unabashed joy, her fierce maternal pride.
In the arena, the nine brothers erupted. They surged towards Fu Yongrui, scooping him up, their shouts of triumph echoing as they tossed him high into the air, a joyous celebration.
Fu Yongrui soared, the chant of his name ringing in his ears, a symphony of victory. A profound, overwhelming joy filled him, a warmth spreading through his entire being. This, he realized, was the happiest moment of his life. When he first arrived in Cloud City, he had despised it, seeing it as a place of forced learning. If his father hadn't forced him to attend classes, he would never have set foot here. But now, he felt incredibly fortunate to have come to Cloud City. Here, he had met so many wonderful people, forged lifelong friendships, and discovered the true meaning of belonging. He looked down, seeing his nine brothers throwing him into the air, their voices united in his name, a bond forged in shared effort and triumph.
Fang Yaoting and Lee Dachin left the seating area, walking back to the sidelines to watch the students celebrate their hard-won victory, their faces filled with pride. Fang Yaoting smiled, a wistful sigh escaping him. "At that time, we didn't have this kind of competition," he said, turning to Lee Dachin.
"If we did, would you have participated, Yaoting?" Lee Dachin asked, a playful challenge in his voice, his eyes twinkling.
Fang Yaoting flirted with a charming smile, his gaze tender. "Of course! Imagine, Baiyu, Renshu, Ping'an, Peizhi, Yueliang, Hongse, Longtong, you, and me, all participating! We would have been unstoppable!" He chuckled softly at the thought, a fond memory.
"Well, you and your brothers had your own competition, Yaoting," Lee Dachin countered, a gentle smile on his face. "Remember the fairy's fight? That was far more intense than running a relay." He paused, his gaze growing distant, recalling past struggles. "To be precise, Ping'an and I faced our own shared battles against death, twice, and on both occasions, Ping'an saved me. Those were our true competitions."
Deming, overhearing the quiet, intimate conversation between the two elders, couldn't help but stare, a profound sense of awe washing over him. He wondered if he and Guozhao Zhiqiang would one day be like them – loving each other deeply, having overcome every obstacle from their youthful, dark hair to their present, aged wisdom. Even though they were old, their love and affection remained as strong, as vibrant, as when they first met in their twenties, a timeless bond. A surge of emotion swelling within him, Deming reached out and gently clasped Guozhao Zhiqiang's hand, intertwining their fingers.
"I'm not afraid anymore, Zhiqiang," Deming said softly, his voice barely a whisper, filled with a newfound peace.
"About what, Deming?" Guozhao Zhiqiang asked, his gaze tender, his thumb stroking Deming's hand.
"As long as I know you love me," Deming murmured, his eyes full of certainty, his heart overflowing, "I'm not afraid of anything."
"Silly," Guozhao Zhiqiang said, his voice husky with affection, a soft laugh escaping him. He lightly patted Deming's head, a gesture of profound love.
Guozhao Zhiqiang and Deming watched, hand in hand, as the juniors swarmed their victorious seniors, a joyous pile of celebration, their cheers echoing through the arena.
"This will be a beautiful brotherhood memory for them," Deming said softly, a warmth in his heart, a shared understanding with Guozhao Zhiqiang.
Guozhao Zhiqiang simply smiled at Deming, a shared understanding passing between them, a silent promise of their own beautiful memories yet to come.