Chapter 19
Lou Yuqing’s thoughts struck like thunder.
[Captain Wei’s cultivation was destroyed later on—and most of the blame falls on Meng Siyu.]
[Don’t be fooled by how pitiful he looks now. He stabs people in the back with frightening enthusiasm.]
[A barking dog doesn’t bite. When Meng’s parents were busy morally blackmailing Captain Wei, Meng Siyu stayed silent—watching, calculating, waiting—and then reaped the benefits.]
[Every time there’s profit to be gained, he lets his parents take the lead. If things go well, great. If not, he steps in himself.]
[Just like now. Showing off his suffering, drawing a contrast between their lives—can Captain Wei really bring himself to refuse?]
Lou Yuqing stared at Wei Houming, tension tightening in her chest.
[Please don’t fall for it.]
Si Nidie exhaled slowly.
It’s fine. We all heard it.
Still… this Meng Siyu…
She clicked her tongue inwardly.
His acting was too good.
She had personally witnessed him cross-dressing to swindle spirit stones—there was no way she should mistake him for a decent person.
And yet—after watching that entire performance, she almost forgot.
Almost felt that he was… genuinely pitiful.
Ridiculous.
A storm surged through Wei Houming, cold and relentless, its chill seeping into his bones.
He had still been searching for excuses—still trying, stubbornly, to give Meng Siyu the benefit of the doubt—
Only to realize, in the end…
It had all been an act.
The thought struck like ice.
For a brief moment, he didn’t know whether to laugh or feel angry.
Was he truly that naive—or was Meng Siyu simply that good at deception?
His gaze darkened abruptly, deepening into something unfathomable—a black vortex that seemed to drag everything into it.
Meng Siyu felt it instantly.
A chill crawled up his spine, cold and invasive, as if something unseen had locked onto him. For a fleeting moment, it even felt like his soul was being dragged under, sinking into something dark and inescapable.
Something… was wrong.
Very wrong.
His thoughts faltered, then lurched.
Was Wei Houming’s earlier hesitation… an act?
No.
Impossible.
He forced himself to steady his breathing, suppressing the unease clawing at his chest.
Calm down.
Meng Siyu forced himself to meet that gaze, refusing to retreat. His reddened eyes brimmed with grievance, sorrow, silent accusation.
A perfect mask.
Wei Houming watched him.
Silent.
Still.
Then—
“My parents spent everything treating my illness,” Meng Siyu said, voice tight, deliberate. “This house? Just for show. We’re already at the end of our rope. Are you going to push us further?”
He had long since seen through Wei Houming’s nature—cold on the outside, soft on the inside.
Everything earlier, every word he had spoken, had merely been a test… a way of giving their parents a chance to salvage the situation.
They had failed.
So now, he would step in himself.
No more waiting. No more hiding behind others to take the lead.
If he wanted control back, he would have to seize it.
He kept his tone steady, his posture unchanged. Any shift now would only invite suspicion.
Everything had to feel natural—every reaction, every flicker of emotion. Only then would it seem genuine.
That was how you lowered someone’s guard.
That was how you made them hesitate… and from hesitation, guilt would follow.
And once guilt took root, compensation became inevitable.
As long as he could extinguish Wei Houming’s intent to retaliate—and quietly plant that seed of guilt in its place—the rest would unfold on its own.
Under the guise of “repaying kindness,” he could approach him openly, without resistance… and then, little by little, draw closer.
Step by step.
Wei Houming would never be able to completely shake them off.
Everything had been calculated.
Every step, every word—meticulously planned.
It should have been unfolding exactly as he intended.
And yet…
Something shifted.
It was subtle—so slight it might have gone unnoticed by anyone else—but Meng Siyu caught it instantly.
Wei Houming’s expression had changed.
Not much.
But enough.
A flicker of unease pierced through his chest, sharp and sudden.
He suppressed it at once, forcing the feeling down before it could take root.
There was nothing for Wei Houming to grasp onto. No flaw, no weakness he could exploit.
Nothing at all.
What he didn’t know—was that Wei Houming held an advantage he could never account for.
Someone… quietly narrating the battlefield in real time.
[If we’re talking about the original master of PUA… it has to be Meng Siyu.]
[Just look at his parents. Does that scream loving, self-sacrificing guardians to you?]
[They’re like this because Meng Siyu unknowingly mastered brainwashing from scratch—and his parents were his first test subjects.]
[The sunk cost is too high. They can’t let go of him anymore, so they just keep throwing spirit stones into the pit.]
[He’s never been simple.]
[The idea of using their own child as a blood source? That didn’t come from nowhere. Meng Siyu guided them into it—quietly.]
Each thought struck down like a hammer on Wei Houming’s clarity, shattering the last remnants of hesitation.
And then—his gaze changed.
That was when Meng Siyu felt it.
The shift.
Subtle, but unmistakable.
The confidence he had been holding onto faltered for the first time, a thin crack running through it.
Still, he pressed forward.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” he demanded, forcing steadiness into his voice—though the faint tremor betrayed him. “Feeling guilty?”
He stood straight, like a young tree refusing to bend.
But beneath the surface, the roots were already shaking.
He knew his strengths.
Knew exactly how to use them.
And yet… this time, it wasn’t working.
Wei Houming looked at him—and for the first time, found the performance unbearable.
Irritating.
“Your suffering wasn’t caused by me,” he said coldly. “So don’t place it on my shoulders.”
A pause.
“I came here today to settle accounts.”
Meng Siyu froze.
Then, slowly, disbelief crept across his face.
“…Why?”
His voice dropped, turning sharp, deliberate—each word chosen to provoke.
“Is it because you’ve made it now?” he continued, eyes fixed on Wei Houming. “So we—your poor relatives—have become an embarrassment to you?”
He needed to break that composure.
Drag Wei Houming back into his rhythm.
But before Wei Houming could respond—
Si Nidie snapped.
She stepped forward in a single stride, eyes blazing, the fury she’d been holding back finally erupting.
“What’s shameful isn’t poverty—it’s how poisonous you are!”
Her voice cracked through the air like a whip.
“And you, Meng Siyu—” she didn’t even pause, her gaze locking onto him with cutting precision, “—you’re the worst of them!”
The air tightened.
Then, without giving him a chance to recover, she drove the knife in deeper—
“Back then, you were the one who pushed them to have a second child—just so you could use him as a blood donor!”
Her words hit like a thunderclap.
“Do you really think Captain Wei doesn’t know?!”
Silence fell—heavy and absolute.
Meng Siyu’s pupils contracted sharply, the change so sudden it was almost violent. For a split second, he forgot how to breathe, his heart dropping straight into an icy abyss.
How… did they know?
That secret—buried so deeply it should have never seen the light of day, not even if everything collapsed around it—had been dragged out into the open just like that.
Lou Yuqing blinked, surprised.
[Senior Sister knows too? Captain Wei must’ve told her.]
Si Nidie and Wei Houming: …No, that’s not it.
Off to the side, Elder Wei Tu’s gaze turned feral—like a tiger finally baring its fangs.
“You vicious little thing,” he said, his voice low but heavy with undisguised disgust. “In all my years… I’ve rarely seen someone this inhuman.”
The moment the words fell, the pressure followed.
It didn’t descend—it crashed.
Meng Siyu’s body gave out instantly. His knees buckled beneath him, slamming into the ground as all color drained from his face, his entire frame trembling uncontrollably.
This time—there was no act.
The oppressive force of a Nascent Soul cultivator was real—overwhelming, suffocating, leaving no room to resist.
“Father… Mother…”
His voice came out fragile, breaking at the edges as tears welled in his eyes, shimmering faintly, as though the slightest touch might shatter them.
“Xiaoyu!”
Mother Meng rushed forward, forcing herself through the pressure to support him. Father Meng grabbed his other arm.
They didn’t believe a word of the accusations.
Xiaoyu had always been obedient.
Always good.
How could he be like that?
The three of them knelt together, a picture of misery.
The disturbance didn’t stay contained for long.
Whispers began to ripple outward, drawing curious onlookers from every direction.
“Did the Meng family offend someone powerful?”
“We’re neighbors—we can’t just stand by, can we?”
“Are you crazy? Look at them—those people aren’t ordinary. Get involved and you’ll lose your life!”
“…Should we report it to the city guards?”
The voices overlapped—low, cautious, yet spreading fast, like sparks catching dry grass.
Lou Yuqing and the others fell silent.
Wronged.
Completely, absurdly wronged.
A dark glint flickered deep within Meng Siyu’s eyes.
So this was how it was.
If he wanted to survive—then there was only one path left.
No more hesitation. No more retreat.
He would gamble everything.
Slowly, he lifted his head.
“You say my parents used Wei Houming as a blood sacrifice,” Meng Siyu said, his voice sharp but controlled, each word landing with deliberate precision.
He paused—just long enough—before pressing further, “and now you’re saying I was the one who instigated it…”
His gaze lifted, steady despite the pressure bearing down on him.
“Then tell me—where’s your evidence?”
The moment he finished, Mother Meng broke into tears as if on cue, her voice trembling as she cried out, “Exactly! We’ve denied it again and again—why won’t you let us go? Are you determined to nail us to the pillar of shame?”
Before the echoes of her words could fade, Father Meng stepped forward, pulling both of them close as though shielding them from an invisible blade.
His voice cracked with emotion, yet carried just enough force to be heard by everyone present.
“If you want to take action, then come at me!” he shouted hoarsely. “Leave them out of this—it’s all my fault!”
It was a perfect retreat to advance.
From the outside, it looked like nothing more than desperation—three helpless figures cornered without escape.
And it worked.
The murmurs around them grew louder, less restrained now, suspicion quietly shifting direction.
“This is too much… even if life is hard in the Northwest District, they can’t just bully people like this!”
“Today it’s them—tomorrow it could be us!”
“Forget arguing—go call the guards! If these people have bounties, we might even earn something!”
The accusations came one after another, growing bolder with each voice, as if the group standing before them were already criminals beyond doubt.
Lou Yuqing's group fell silent.
…Bounty?
What bounty?!
They were law-abiding citizens!
Elder Wei Tu let out a cold snort.
In the next instant, an overwhelming pressure surged outward, sweeping across the entire street like a tidal wave.
“Enough.”
The single word landed—and everything stopped.
Silence crashed down.
Every voice was cut off mid-breath, as though invisible hands had seized their throats, leaving not even the faintest whisper behind.
Meng Siyu cursed inwardly.
Useless.
If the crowd had dared to push back—just a little—this could have turned in his favor.
But in the face of absolute power… who would dare?
The moment that suffocating pressure descended, realization dawned across every face.
This man… was no ordinary cultivator.
In this world, strength was law.
Offend him—and death would follow.
At the same time, a flicker of guilt crept into their hearts.
If the Meng family hadn’t provoked such a figure… would things have escalated this far?
Lou Yuqing watched it all unfold, her thoughts settling with quiet clarity.
[As expected… truth only exists within the range of cannons. Dignity only stands at the edge of a blade.]
[If you want people to quiet down—strength is the only language they understand.]
Beside her, Si Nidie lifted her chin slightly. Exactly.
Gu Buqi cast a glance at his little disciple, a thoughtful look flickering in his eyes.
The words had sounded strange at first—but the more he turned them over in his mind, the more undeniable they became.
Elder Wei Tu, meanwhile, nodded in faint satisfaction.
At least someone understood.
His gaze dropped back to the Meng family, his voice turning cold. “You want evidence?”
He raised his fist, slow and deliberate.
“This is the only evidence I have.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Do you want to try it?”
The Meng family’s expressions twisted instantly.
Under absolute strength, every scheme, every calculation—meant nothing.
Was this really how it would end?
Taken away like this, without even a chance to struggle?
Mother Meng’s hand froze mid-motion as she stroked Meng Siyu’s back, fear surging through her in uncontrollable waves.
“Xiaoyu…”
Father Meng’s jaw tightened.
When everything had begun to fall apart, it had been his son who stepped forward, trying to salvage what little they had left.
He had believed—that if Wei Houming cured Xiaoyu… if Xiaoyu rose in the future… then everything would be worth it.
But now—it was all ruined.
All because of him.
He shouldn’t have been born.
The thought flashed through his mind, bitter and sharp.
Wei Houming saw it.
And in that instant, whatever faint warmth still lingered in his heart… turned completely cold.
Then—
Meng Siyu’s voice cut in, low and urgent.
“Father… the guards are here.”
The Meng family stiffened.
And in the very next breath—relief flooded their faces.
There was still hope.