Chapter Forty: When It Comes to Competing on Stage, I’ve Never Lost!

Song Cheng felt a wave of nausea. Perhaps, many years from now, this complex and hypocritical world of cultivation would slowly change him, and he might become the very thing he now despised—but not today. He understood fully the importance of the Crimson Blood Fruit, but he understood even more clearly what he must do right now. Long ago, his father had told him of the cruelty of this world; though he could watch others die with indifference, he could not simply stand by when the fates of those close to him remained unknown.

“Brother Wang’s words are true enough, but I possess only the weak power of the third level of Qi Training. If I joined you, I fear I would only be a burden,” Song Cheng replied with a forced smile.

“The wilds of the back mountain are perilous in the extreme. Since you call me Brother Wang, how could I possibly abandon you here alone?” Wang Hongjun ignored the awkwardness on Song Cheng’s face and spoke earnestly.

“My sister and two friends are still missing, their fate uncertain. I’ve left marks along the way and wish to wait here a while longer. I fear I might delay your plans, Brother Wang.”

“In that case, let us follow the marks you’ve left and search as we go. Many hands make light work—we might even stumble upon your friends by chance.”

...This guy’s acting is terrible. He talks a good game, but it’s clear he just wants me to go with him.

The intent was obvious. No matter how weak his cultivation, why would they care about that if all they needed was a pawn to scout ahead?

Just as Song Cheng was about to refuse again, Song Yong, standing by his side, spoke up: “My cousin and I are both of low cultivation. To my shame, I’m only at the sixth level of Qi Training, and after yesterday’s battle I’m completely spent. I fear I can be of no help to you for some time, Brother Wang.”

Song Cheng looked at his cousin in surprise. The Crimson Blood Fruit was crucial for cultivators at their level, and for someone like his cousin—always on the fringes of the Song family—it was a rare opportunity. Yet his attitude was so resolute. Most of those present were at the sixth level; clearly, this was just an excuse.

Meanwhile, Wang Meng naturally sided with Wang Hongjun, and after some hesitation, the Duan siblings also agreed to join Wang Hongjun, deciding that the Crimson Blood Fruit would be divided according to their contributions in slaying the Phoenix-Crowned Blood Python.

In that moment, Song Cheng and Song Yong remained silent, but Wang Hongjun, for reasons unknown, pressed on: “Brother Song Cheng, according to Wang Meng, this place is still far from the Phoenix-Crowned Blood Python’s lair, and he’s a straightforward sort—he’s already lost his sense of direction. So we’ll have to trouble you to guide us, Brother Song. I give you my word: before we reach our destination, your safety will be absolutely assured.”

…Is this guy not just a hypocrite but maybe has some kind of grudge against me? Why is he so insistent on targeting me?

Anyone with eyes could see there was something off about Wang Hongjun, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it. Was it the two wooden-faced men behind him who gave him such courage?

If you can’t solve the problem, then deal with the one causing it! That’s what Big Brother Cai always said.

After a long moment of thought.

But, Big Brother Cai, what if I can’t beat those two wooden men…

Song Cheng took a deep breath. No matter what, he couldn’t let himself get dragged into this mess. Glancing at his cousin, he decided that if things got out of hand, he’d just pretend to agree and then escape with his cousin midway. With the map in his hand and the complex terrain of the back mountain, it was plausible enough. If he was forced to go, surely his cousin wouldn’t leave alone.

Unlike Big Brother Cai, I’m not some universally disliked guy. I have faith in myself.

“So, Brother Song Cheng, are you refusing?” Wang Hongjun pressed, his eyes narrowing.

The Duan siblings also sensed something amiss. Why was he so insistent on bringing Song Cheng along? For them, a third-level cultivator was hardly any help, especially since both of them were at the sixth level, and Wang Hongjun’s own strength was unknown but the two men behind him were clearly at the seventh level. With Wang Meng, as long as they were careful, even an injured Phoenix-Crowned Blood Python wasn’t an insurmountable threat.

Song Cheng was plainly of little use. Such eagerness to bring him along couldn’t mean anything good. The siblings hesitated, wondering if they should speak up, but after all, they had been saved by this group.

Song Cheng looked at Wang Hongjun, uncertain of the reason for his animosity, but for now, there was no way to leave. His eyes, usually narrowed, grew cold, though fortunately they were small enough that no one noticed.

He wanted to say something but was distracted when rustling sounds came from the nearby forest. The chill in his eyes vanished, replaced by an easy smile as if he’d just seen something amusing.

“Well, everyone’s here,” a familiar, slightly mocking voice called out. The speaker paused, then added, “Say, Qiu Ling, looks like your brother’s getting bullied—aren’t you going to do something?”

Three figures emerged from the forest. The leading man grinned at the girl beside him, but his friendly overture was met with stony silence.

“All right, all right, if you won’t speak up, I’ll handle it,” he said with feigned resignation.

Seeing these newcomers, Song Cheng’s smile grew relaxed. All his earlier worries seemed to vanish at that one remark.

Wang Hongjun’s gaze darkened, but the others were more surprised than anything by the arrival of these three.

“Song Cheng, who are these new faces? Who’re these three?” Yu Daoyi and his companions walked up to Song Cheng, making no attempt to hide their suspicion.

Song Cheng simply replied, “The true nature of the heart is all that matters.”

He hadn’t answered directly, but his sudden cryptic remark made Wang Hongjun frown in confusion and speculation, though he understood the underlying message.

Yu Daoyi grunted noncommittally, then said, “So it was him after all. I knew it.”

Even if Wang Hongjun didn’t catch the specifics, he could tell these people were not offering him any goodwill.

“You three must be the ones who drew the Phoenix-Crowned Blood Python away and saved our Wang Meng. I owe you my thanks,” Wang Hongjun said, maintaining a flawless façade of courtesy.

Still keeping up the act? Young man, you’re making it hard for me to slap you in the face.

“Oh, Brother Wang, you’re too kind. In fact, it’s my brother Song Cheng here who’s been under your care,” Yu Daoyi replied, his tone switching instantly to one of warm hospitality, not a whit less convincing than Wang Hongjun’s.

Wang Hongjun was caught off guard. The warmth in Yu Daoyi’s smile was as pleasant as a spring breeze, but somehow it felt off—almost as if this man was even more insincere than himself. Still, now was not the time to tear off the masks.

Song Lingqiu and the others could only shake their heads. Anyone who knew Yu Daoyi could see at a glance he was up to something, but who knew what scheme was brewing in his mind this time.

After a round of the most hypocritical pleasantries, the two men seemed like long-lost friends, lamenting they hadn’t met sooner, ready to swear brotherhood and cut their palms to seal the bond.

One played the part of a devoted brother, ready to brave fire and sword for his sibling; the other, willing to die a thousand deaths for the sake of his friend.

Anyone unaware of the truth would genuinely believe they were the closest of companions.

“Ha ha, Daoyi, I’m a few years older than you. Hope you don’t mind me calling you little brother,” Wang Hongjun said with a hearty laugh.

“What the—! What did you just say?” Yu Daoyi suddenly exploded, startling Wang Hongjun, who thought his ruse had been uncovered.

“Brother Hongjun! If you’re willing to call me brother, I take that as a great honor! How could I object? But do you realize your words just now showed a lack of trust in me? There’s no need for such hypocrisy between us!” Yu Daoyi declared righteously.

When it comes to acting, I’ve never lost!

“Haha, well then, it seems I was the one being inconsiderate,” Wang Hongjun replied awkwardly, unable to find fault with Yu Daoyi’s earnest manner. His performance was so convincing, even Wang Hongjun felt a chill.

Song Cheng never would have imagined that his Big Brother Cai, who had seemed ready to fight for him just moments ago, could suddenly do such an about-face, almost ready to swear brotherhood with the enemy. It was hard to accept—damn it, give me back my feelings! Weren’t you supposed to stand up for me?

The others watched the scene in speechless disbelief. This man who had saved them all hardly seemed normal; of the other two, one was so cold he seemed to radiate a forbidding aura, while the woman was so proud she looked down on everyone as if through her nose.