Chapter Seventy-Three: The Simple-Minded Song Cheng

Back Mountain. Yu Daoyi and his companions were heading toward an exit leading to Qingshan Town, but before long, they encountered the edge of the pillar of black light.

“What do we do now? Maybe you could shout and ask him to open the door for us so we can leave?” Song Cheng looked at Yu Daoyi with a glimmer of hope.

“Why’s everyone looking at me? You think I’m some miracle mouth? If I say ‘open up,’ it just opens?” Yu Daoyi glared at the crowd gathering around, his tone irritable.

“Let’s wait and see. Usually, when something like this happens, someone can’t resist coming to investigate,” Song Qiuling said helplessly.

A moment later—

“Look over there!” Song Cheng pointed quietly in a direction.

Following his finger, they saw a black-gold leopard, common in Back Mountain, dart out from the underbrush and charge toward the pillar of light, as if the oppressive atmosphere within drove it to flee.

The leopard plunged into the pillar, struggled for a moment, and emerged on the other side, shaking its head and glancing back at the light as if relieved.

Seeing this, everyone felt a weight lifted. At least the pillar wasn’t trapping them inside—there was a way through.

“That was close. I thought we were really stuck here,” Song Cheng patted his chest, exhaling in relief.

“Seems our worries were for nothing. Yu Daoyi, your fears were unnecessary. We didn’t need to...” Duan Yuxuan remarked, his pale face unreadable.

“Wait, something’s not right,” Yu Daoyi interrupted before Duan Yuxuan could finish.

Everyone turned to the leopard. After pausing, it bounded away, but after a few steps its gait faltered, as if drunk. Suddenly, with a bang, blood and flesh scattered. All that remained was a puddle of blood and a few tufts of fur.

A long silence followed.

“...Damn!” The only phrase the simple-minded could muster.

“That’s disgusting! If you don’t want people to leave, just don’t let them leave—why play with explosions?” Song Cheng’s discomfort was evident.

“Looks like we won’t find a way out anytime soon. Judging by the speed the pillar is shrinking, perhaps Lin He was right—it’s forcing us toward the mouth of the secret realm,” Song Qiuling said, head lowered.

“Other than that, we’ll have to see if those outside can help us escape,” Yu Daoyi sighed, feeling this trip to Back Mountain was nothing but twists and turns.

On the third day, the pillar of black light gradually contracted, like a poisonous ring, relentlessly forcing Yu Daoyi and his group to retreat.

“Daoyi, these past two days, more and more people have entered Back Mountain. Never mind the neighboring town—even some prominent families and sects from nearby regions have arrived,” Song Cheng, sent to gather information, reported.

“And?” Yu Daoyi squatted idly on the ground, a blade of grass resembling foxtail between his teeth, lazy.

“Then I tried to ask around. It was miserable, Daoyi,” Song Cheng said, still shaken.

“How miserable?” Yu Daoyi asked, and the others looked at Song Cheng.

“Let me put it this way: You work hard, enter with dreams, full of joy, hoping to achieve something big. But once inside, you realize you’re hopeless. You thought you’d gain experience by coming and going, but you find that one entry and exit is all it takes to end you,” Song Cheng explained, choosing his words carefully.

What are you even talking about? Yu Daoyi was so shocked he accidentally swallowed the foxtail grass.

Ugh, full of hair!

We’re supposed to be positive role models! Did you even pass your driving test before driving like that? Do you have my years behind the wheel? How did you manage such a broken road?

“Forget it—I watched these scenes for ages and couldn’t make sense of them. Daoyi, why are they so fast?”

“I can’t take it! What nonsense are you spouting? You can drive in a place like this??” Yu Daoyi jumped up, unable to bear the indignity.

“Daoyi, why are you yelling at me? You told me to gather information!” Song Cheng protested, aggrieved.

“And what did you find out? Anyone would think you went to amuse yourself! Tell me again, in normal terms!” Yu Daoyi barked, then added, “Tell it like a sane person!”

“...From what I learned, entering the pillar isn’t what causes the explosions. It’s just that once inside, people realize there are too many formidable figures, and fearing death, they try to sneak out. They probably thought, if they can’t seize treasure, at least they could train. But the situation inside scared them, so they chickened out—and then boom.”

“And all those deaths are inexplicable. I thought with so many casualties they’d figure a way out, but they’re all useless, dying too quickly, no intel gained. I got excited for nothing!” Song Cheng complained.

Everyone: “......”

This guy’s truly slippery—slipperier than me, Yu Daoyi thought, unsure if Song Cheng was deliberately speaking this way or just naturally so.

“Daoyi, guess who I ran into!” Song Cheng said with excitement.

“Ran into your father’s hammer!” Yu Daoyi shouted, unwilling to respond, squatting again and searching for another foxtail.

“Wow! You guessed it!” Song Cheng was amazed.

“......” My mistake, why am I even bothering with this fool?

After a moment, Yu Daoyi suddenly asked, “Uncle Song is here?”

“My father came into the pillar? Are you sure he’s not outside?” Song Qiuling asked in surprise.

“He is my father—I wouldn’t mistake him. He’s currently discussing ways to get out with the others,” Song Cheng replied.

“Damn! Next time, could you start with the important news?” Yu Daoyi jumped up, excited and again swallowed the foxtail grass.

Ugh, full of hair!

“Is my father really that important?” Song Cheng asked.

“...Honestly, I’m starting to wonder how you’ve survived this long. What about my parents?” Yu Daoyi asked, exasperated.

“I didn’t see them. I guess they didn’t come. Otherwise, with your mother’s beauty, Back Mountain would be in chaos,” Song Cheng replied. He often visited Yu’s residence in his spare time and knew well what the lady of the Yu family looked like.

“Kid, that’s the first sensible thing you’ve said! Your Daoyi has inherited his mother’s looks—handsome and debonair!” Yu Daoyi plucked another foxtail, put it between his teeth, and vowed never to eat it again.

Song Cheng: “......”

“What did your father say? Can we get out?” Song Qiuling, used to their bizarre banter, ignored them and pressed on.

“In fact, I wandered around my father for ages, but he didn’t recognize me at all,” Song Cheng replied with a frown.

“That’s very much like Uncle Song. Then what?” Yu Daoyi nodded, leaning against a tree, foxtail in his mouth.

“I tried everything to get his attention, but he didn’t recognize me. I patted him on the shoulder and he smiled, but never called me by name.”

“So I had no choice but to smile and pat his head. Mm, my father’s occiput feels pretty good,” Song Cheng tilted his head, looking at his right hand as if reminiscing.

Yu Daoyi: “???????”

Petting him like a dog?

“????? You rascal—ugh, how do you always come back to this!” In excitement, Yu Daoyi ate the grass for the third time. Damn!

“Ahem, I admit I was gambling, but I guessed right. My father pointed at me for ages without calling my name, looked at those around, and perhaps out of guilt, said he’d have a proper chat with me later.” At this, Song Cheng seemed a bit dim, though it was unclear who he’d learned this from.