Chapter 41: Mysterious Background

"Mr. Jackson, have some tea," Amira offered, walking over with a cup in hand. Jackson took a sip, and his eyes immediately brightened. "Big Red Robe? This is rare!" Amira smiled shyly. "I got it from my grandfather. I've heard it's great tea, but I don't know much about it myself. Violet mentioned you love tea, so I thought you might like it, Mr. Jackson." Jackson took another sip, feeling increasingly astonished. The tea leaves were a rarity. There were only six of these ancient tea trees in existence, and they produced a limited annual harvest. In fact, in the Land of the Red Dragon, there was a rumor that the next ten years' worth of these leaves had already been pre-ordered. The leaves Amira had were aged, making their flavor deeper and more refined, with immense value. "This is truly top-notch tea. Excellent," Jackson praised, appreciating the quality. Amira's smile widened. "I'm glad you like it. Before you leave, you should take the rest with you, Mr. Jackson." Jackson hesitated, though clearly pleased. "I couldn't possibly... this is Big Red Robe, after all. It's incredibly valuable." Seeing his reaction, Amira disappeared into her room and returned with a small pouch of tea, roughly a pound of it. She handed it to him with a warm smile. "I don't drink tea myself, so I'd rather give it to someone who appreciates it. Consider it my tuition for your guidance, Mr. Jackson." Jackson only pretended to resist, but the truth was, he was thrilled. Tea from the ancient tea trees was priceless, worth thousands per ounce. The amount Amira casually handed him could fetch tens of thousands easily. More importantly, these leaves were a collector's item among the elite. He couldn't help but wonder about Amira's family. For her grandfather to casually give her so much of this tea, his status must be extraordinary. Curious, Jackson asked, "Amira, may I ask you something?" "Of course, Mr. Jackson. Go ahead," she responded with a gentle smile. "You don't sound like you're from Jimstantham. Where are you from?" "I'm from Yash City," Amira replied, her eyes lighting up. "I didn't want to study there, so I applied to Jimstantham University. I didn't expect to get in." "A scholar, I see," Jackson praised, causing Amira to beam proudly. "Of course!" she said, lifting her chin in mock pride. "Yash City, the capital of the Land of the Red Dragon," Jackson mused. "I've always wanted to visit. What are the tourist spots like?" Amira blushed slightly. "Honestly, it's embarrassing. Even though I'm from Yash City, I haven't visited any of the Major attractions. I've never been to the Great Wall, the Forbidden City, or even Ten Temples Lake." "That's a shame. Maybe I'll show you around as an outsider one day," Jackson joked. "Deal!" Amira laughed. Jackson smiled but then grew curious. "Amira, do you have any siblings?" At the mention of family, Amira's face fell. Her cheerful demeanor dimmed, and she lowered her head. "Mr. Jackson, can we not talk about that?" Sensing he had touched on something sensitive, Jackson nodded immediately. "Of course." After a few more exchanges, the mood felt off. Sensing Amira's unease, Jackson decided it was time to leave. As he got up, Amira apologized softly, "I'm sorry, Mr. Jackson. I wasn't a very good host today." "No, no," Jackson reassured her. "It was my fault for bringing up something upsetting. I'll see you soon." He waved as he headed toward his car. As Jackson drove away from the apartment complex, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Amira's story. Though she appeared bright and carefree, there was a certain sadness in her eyes. He couldn't help but wonder what she was hiding and decided that if he wanted to know more, he might have to ask Violet. But before he could think further, something felt off. Up ahead, three cars blocked his path. Seven or eight men in suits approached his vehicle, and one of them knocked on the window. "Step out!" the man ordered. Jackson rolled down his window and asked calmly, "Is there a problem?" The men seemed taken aback by his calmness. Most people would have panicked, but Jackson treated them as if they were no real threat. The leader removed his sunglasses, revealing sharp eyes. "From now on, you're to stay away from Miss Amira. Understood?" "Miss Amira?" Jackson repeated, intrigued. "Who are you to her?" "You don't need to know that. Just understand that Miss Amira is out of your league. Got it?" Jackson nodded as if he understood, but just as the man was about to leave, he added, "But why should I listen to you?" The man's face darkened. "Kid, don't push your luck. Sure, you saved Miss Amira during the kidnapping and at the mall this morning, but she was never in real danger. We're giving you a pass because of your help. But if you keep hanging around her, there will be consequences." Jackson's smile vanished. "I don't respond well to threats." The leader's eyes narrowed. "Then don't blame us for what happens next!" He lunged at Jackson with startling speed, clearly intending to end the conversation with force. Jackson had been irritated earlier at Amira's place, and now he had an outlet to vent. He met the man's attack with a grin. The two exchanged a flurry of blows. Jackson started off casually, using his brute strength to keep his opponent in check. But soon, he realized this man wasn't ordinary—his speed and reactions were exceptional, and Jackson had to increase his effort. The man, known as Iron Hand, was alarmed. He was a renowned martial arts instructor in Yash City's military district, specializing in Iron Sand Palm—a technique that made his hands as tough as steel. Yet every strike he made against Jackson felt as though he was hitting air. Worse, it hurt when their hands collided. Iron Hand couldn't believe it. How could Jackson, who appeared so young, be countering his Iron Sand Palm with such ease? More frustrating was the fact that Jackson seemed to be toying with him, allowing him to attack while deliberately avoiding any finishing moves. "Enough!" Iron Hand roared as he unleashed his ultimate move—Iron Sand Palm's Third Style. The other men chuckled. "Now he's done for! No one can survive Iron Hand's third style!" To everyone's shock, Jackson didn't flinch. Instead, he calmly raised his leg and delivered a powerful kick to Iron Hand's abdomen, sending him flying. Iron Hand crashed to the ground, coughing up blood. The men rushed forward, surrounding Jackson with fury in their eyes. "Stop!" Iron Hand ordered, struggling to his feet.