Chapter Thirty-Nine: True Brothers

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Wei Mingyuan asked, a hint of puzzlement in his voice as he noticed Su Bai’s gaze lingering on him.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Su Bai quickly lowered his head, realizing he’d lost his composure.

Fortunately, Wei Mingyuan was still inexperienced in the ways of the world and failed to notice Su Bai’s odd behavior. He let the matter drop, though he secretly regretted not having dispatched Su Bai more decisively.

Su Bai, meanwhile, made a silent vow to himself: “If I can’t make use of this man, it would be best to kill him sooner rather than later. But now, with my old wounds unhealed and new injuries adding to them, I really can’t take him down yet.”

At that thought, he suddenly smiled warmly at Wei Mingyuan, as if greeting an old friend he hadn’t seen for years. Had it not been for the pain etched on his face, Wei Mingyuan might have wondered whether the man before him was truly an enemy a moment ago.

“What do you want?” Wei Mingyuan’s eyes were filled with wariness.

Su Bai raised both hands, signaling he had no ill intentions, but the movement tugged at the wound in his abdomen.

He sucked in a sharp breath and said, “I’m guessing you’ve already prepared the ingredients, haven’t you? Otherwise, why did you wait half an hour before lighting the fire?”

“What do you want?” Wei Mingyuan repeated, impatience creeping into his tone.

“Don’t get riled up! We’re under the same roof now—if one of us dies, it won’t do the other any good.” Su Bai gestured with his eyes. “Why not take out the food and let’s share it?”

But Wei Mingyuan wasn’t convinced. “If you plan to poison the food while I’m distracted, what then?”

Su Bai chuckled coldly. “You already carry a deadly poison I planted in your system. Are you really afraid I’ll poison you again?”

Wei Mingyuan considered this and realized Su Bai had a point. Besides, if he didn’t cook, he couldn’t just gnaw on raw mutton and roots.

“Fine, I’ll trust you one more time. The stuff’s over there.” He pointed carelessly to where he’d kindled the fire.

Su Bai looked at him, exasperated. “I’m so badly injured I can barely move. You want me to fetch it?”

Wei Mingyuan mulled it over, then sullenly hauled over a half-grown sheep weighing more than thirty pounds.

Su Bai was already sitting cross-legged in meditation. Wei Mingyuan dropped the carcass in front of him. “Get started.”

To his surprise, Su Bai didn’t even open his eyes. After a long pause, he spoke languidly, “I’ll instruct you step by step. Do as I say, and you won’t go wrong.”

“You?” Wei Mingyuan sneered. “You’re about my age and look half-dead. I doubt you could pull off anything special.”

“First, dig a pit two or three feet deep in front of that boulder. Build a fire in it, and cover the flames with grass from the area to hide the light. Skin the sheep and cut it up. Once you’re done, let me know—I need to focus on healing.” Su Bai ignored the sarcasm, popped two black pills into his mouth, and closed his eyes.

“Overly suspicious,” Wei Mingyuan muttered, but still did as Su Bai instructed.

An hour later, drenched in sweat and panting, Wei Mingyuan sliced off the sheep’s hooves and looked over at Su Bai. “I’ve done everything you asked—now it’s your turn.”

Su Bai remained impassive, which only irritated Wei Mingyuan further.

At last, Su Bai opened his eyes, secretly amused. “A ten-year-old child, after all—born cold-blooded, perhaps, but lacking in worldly experience.”

He drew out a dazzling, multicolored pill. Wei Mingyuan eyed it with suspicion, but Su Bai only grinned, then, under Wei Mingyuan’s incredulous gaze, gave the pill a dramatic lick and tossed it into Wei Mingyuan’s hands.

The sticky sensation sent a shudder through Wei Mingyuan. Luckily, he was already smeared with sheep’s blood; otherwise, he might have thrown up.

“What are you doing!” Wei Mingyuan nearly exploded.

Su Bai closed his eyes again, answering with studied nonchalance. “Weren’t you afraid I’d poison you? I’ve already licked this pill. From now on, I won’t eat anything in your presence except medicine for my injuries. Satisfied?”

Wei Mingyuan snorted, crushed the pill, and stuffed it into the sheep’s stomach.

Once more, he regarded Su Bai with unease. “This man has no martial skill at all, yet he exudes danger. I never sensed such a thing at the sect’s entrance trials. Who is he, really?”

Across from him, Su Bai kept his calm façade, thinking, “The more unruffled I appear, the harder I am to read. I can’t afford to slip up now.”

After the time it took for a stick of incense to burn, Wei Mingyuan completed all of Su Bai’s instructions. Exhausted, he collapsed onto the ground. Hunger gnawed at him, and the effort of fighting Su Bai and preparing the food had drained him further—not to mention the “grand undertaking” of cooking.

Unable to help himself, Wei Mingyuan asked, “How long before it’s ready to eat?”

“Should be about two more hours,” Su Bai replied offhandedly.

“It does take a long time to prepare,” he added inwardly, “but with that pill, the flavor should be exceptional.”

“Two hours?” Wei Mingyuan was aghast. He was already starving, and the thought of waiting two more hours tormented him.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” He looked regretfully at the mutton and the mangled offal he’d stuffed inside.

“You didn’t ask,” Su Bai replied.

“You— Fine! I can wait.” Though disgruntled, Wei Mingyuan accepted reality. There was no point digging it up now.

He sat sulking near Su Bai, glaring at him like a resentful wife. But Su Bai paid him no mind, popping a blood-replenishing pill into his mouth.

...

“Ah!” Su Bai stretched luxuriously, startling Wei Mingyuan awake.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Wei Mingyuan asked, “What time is it?”

“Probably just past five quarters into the Hai hour,” Su Bai replied, then suddenly realized something was wrong.

They exchanged glances, then cried out in unison, “Oh no!”

Wei Mingyuan rushed to scrape away the ash with a knife and fished out the sheep’s stomach with a pair of sticks.

...

The two stared at the charred sheep’s stomach before them.

Su Bai’s eyelids twitched. He broke the silence, “Don’t judge by appearances—open it up. Maybe the meat inside is still fine.”

Truth be told, it was Su Bai’s first time making this dish. He’d only ever seen others do it in videos, never found the time to try himself.

As Wei Mingyuan hesitantly slit open the stomach, a rich aroma wafted out, dispelling all doubt.

He swallowed hard and tore into a large piece of mutton, his expression transformed into pure bliss, a stark contrast to the starved, surly boy from a few hours before.

Su Bai, meanwhile, watched him eat before taking a piece for himself.

The rich, silky flavor exploded in his mouth, sliding down his throat and spreading warmth through his body.

“This Delicacy Pill really lives up to the legends,” Su Bai thought. “What a pity, using it on a mere child in the Copper Skin realm.”

The Delicacy Pill was not as innocent as its name suggested. In truth, it was a vicious poison: those afflicted would die in agony within three days, their bodies dissolving into a puddle of pus, utterly powerless to resist.

Its creator, ironically, had been a chef obsessed with finding the perfect, most convenient seasoning. After thousands of experiments, he finally concocted this peerless flavor-condensing pill in his old age. After tasting the dish himself, he recorded the recipe—then, a week later, he died in agony, his body melting into a bloody mess before a horrified audience.

Su Bai had given Wei Mingyuan this very pill as a seasoning for the mutton. He himself had already taken the antidote—those two black pills earlier.

“A week’s time—enough for this boy to escort me safely to Yanxing City,” Su Bai mused, sneaking a glance at the feasting Wei Mingyuan.

As they ate, conversation naturally followed—initiated, of course, by Su Bai, who shamelessly warmed up to his cold companion.

“Wei Mingyuan, why did you join the Dayan Sect? Your manner is quite unlike their disciples. You’d be better suited to one of the three northern demonic sects.”

The jab was obvious—he was calling Wei Mingyuan ruthless, hardly a man of the righteous path.

Unexpectedly, Wei Mingyuan didn’t get angry. Instead, he froze, his eyes moistening as if recalling some painful memory.

Sensing he’d struck a chord, Su Bai pointed to the jade pendant on Wei Mingyuan’s chest. “That’s an interesting pendant you have—who gave it to you?”

He’d noticed it before: it looked valuable, odd for a poor child to wear, and stranger still for him to have kept it so long.

At this, Wei Mingyuan reacted like a startled cat, instantly clutching the pendant, his bloodshot eyes glaring at Su Bai as if he might devour him.

“Don’t ask questions you shouldn’t,” he growled, his gaze full of threat.

But his overreaction told Su Bai he’d found a weakness.

“That must be his parents’ keepsake. Perhaps I can use this to break through his defenses. He’s only nine—surely he can’t withstand such tactics?” Su Bai began to plan his next move.

He sighed deeply and gazed up at the sky, striking the pose of a city drama heartthrob lost in reminiscence.

“My parents disappeared when I was born. It wasn’t until I turned three that the housekeeper told me my mother died in childbirth, and my father left me in some godforsaken place, never visiting. A year ago, our family went bankrupt. My father was killed by robbers who came to collect his debts. I barely escaped, and now, of the entire Ming clan, only I remain.”

As he spoke, real tears streamed down Su Bai’s face, even his nose running for effect.

Wei Mingyuan, recognizing a fellow sufferer in exile, apologized remorsefully, “I’m truly sorry for how I treated you before. Please forgive my earlier outburst.”

Su Bai forced a smile, “It’s all right. I wasn’t entirely in the right, either.”

Suddenly, Wei Mingyuan burst into tears, sobbing, “Brother Ming, you and I are both fated to hardship. I won’t hide the truth from you anymore.”

He pointed to the pendant and poured out his own life story, moving Su Bai to tears as well.

After sharing their experiences, the distance between them narrowed considerably. Su Bai sensed the time was ripe.

Seizing the moment, he suggested, “Wei Mingyuan, have you ever heard the saying, ‘No discord, no concord’? We’re about the same age—why not swear brotherhood?”

“Brother Ming, I was just thinking the same! Let’s do it now,” Wei Mingyuan agreed with surprising eagerness, catching Su Bai off guard.

They performed the simplest of ceremonies: planting three sticks in the ground and swearing an oath under the bright moon.

“I, Wei Mingyuan—”

“I, Ming Li—”

“—hereby swear brotherhood! We do not seek to be born on the same day, month, and year, but to die on the same day, month, and year. Heaven and earth bear witness; if we betray this bond, may we be struck down!” (Together)

Su Bai turned, laughing heartily as he clasped Wei Mingyuan’s hand. “My good brother!”

Wei Mingyuan echoed enthusiastically, “Elder brother!”

...

After this heartfelt exchange, Su Bai noted that midnight had arrived and interrupted, “Brother, we have business tomorrow and must hurry to Yanxing City. Let’s sleep now—there’ll be time for sentiment later.”

“Very well, I’ll do as you say, elder brother.” Wei Mingyuan lay down on the straw beside Su Bai’s hiding place.

But Su Bai didn’t sleep. He watched Wei Mingyuan intently, knowing that the boy was only pretending, just as he had during their oath and even during his tears.

“A ten-year-old with such cunning. If I hadn’t poisoned him twice, I wouldn’t be able to handle him. I’ll have to be even more careful; I mustn’t slip up,” Su Bai thought, even suspecting Wei Mingyuan might be a transmigrator like himself.

At the same time, Wei Mingyuan was thinking, “He seemed so emotional—was it all an act? Why hasn’t he given me the antidote? Maybe my performance wasn’t good enough. I must get that antidote, break free from him, and, if possible, kill him.”

With that, Wei Mingyuan clenched his fists in the dark.

Thus, the two newly sworn brothers lay side by side—each secretly plotting the other’s demise.