Chapter Forty-One: The Mantis Stalks the Cicada, Unaware of the Oriole Behind

Chapter Forty-One: The Mantis Hunts the Cicada, Unaware of the Oriole Behind

“Hehe, don’t be impatient, junior brother. The yin energy here is incredibly dense. I suspect there’s more than one Black Yin Fruit in this place. Let’s explore deeper,” the talkative senior brother said with a smile.

After a brief discussion, the brothers decided to go further in together, heading deeper into the misty woods. Wu Hong was about to follow when Wu Songran’s faint voice whispered in his ear, “Brother! That old King of Medicine doesn’t seem to be truly dead. Don’t be too hasty.”

“Ran, you finally called me brother?” Wu Hong was overwhelmed with emotion, the long-lost warmth of kinship flooding back and soothing his heart. Thankfully, he knew now was not the time for sentimentality.

Wu Hong calmed himself and continued to crouch in the grass, watching quietly. Before long, the old King of Medicine—who had been lying motionless on the ground like a corpse—suddenly trembled, slowly sat up, and muttered, “A pack of unfilial wretches. Hmph—just wait and see how you die soon enough. Do you think the Black Yin Fruit is so easy to consume?”

Wu Hong caught the strange tone in the old man’s words. In a flash, he sprang forward like a leopard, landing silently beside the old man.

“Ah! Wu Hong?” The King of Medicine was so startled by the sudden appearance that he nearly collapsed from fright. Fortunately, the disciples had gone on ahead and could not hear his cry.

This shock was no small matter; his face grew even paler as terror seized him. Wu Hong’s hand shot out, fingers curling into a claw, and he gripped the man’s collarbone. “Old man, I don’t know what grudge you bear against me, but I want to know the truth about the Black Yin Fruit.”

“What more do you want from me, Wu Hong? What enmity do I have with you to deserve such targeted malice?” the old man replied, seething with fury.

“You know me?” Wu Hong frowned slightly.

“Hmph—even if you were reduced to ashes, I would recognize you! Don’t pretend with me. Who do I have to thank for these injuries?”

Wu Hong’s heart leapt. So, the old man had been wounded by the imposter masquerading as him. If he questioned carefully, perhaps he could learn the true method for using the Black Yin Fruit.

But Wu Hong had little concern about the imposter. His reputation was already so notorious that it could hardly be sullied further. As long as he had done nothing wrong, his conscience was clear.

Wu Hong suddenly released the old man. “That fiend was only pretending to be me, not the real Wu Hong. There must be some misunderstanding. Please, old sir, help me unravel this puzzle.”

“My earlier behavior was rude—please forgive me.”

Wu Hong’s abrupt change left the old man momentarily stunned and deeply suspicious. What was Wu Hong’s real intent? Given his infamous ruthlessness, one would expect him to kill the old man on sight.

“You truly aren’t Wu Hong?” the old man asked, astonished.

“I am Wu Hong—but not the Wu Hong you imagine,” Wu Hong replied. As soon as he admitted his name, the old man’s face brightened, but when he denied being the one the old man remembered, confusion clouded his features.

“Old sir, could you tell me the effects and proper use of the Black Yin Fruit?” Wu Hong lost patience with the old man’s confusion and went straight to the point.

“Ha! So you claim you’re not Wu Hong, yet you’re after the secrets I hold about the Black Yin Fruit? Even if I die, I’ll never reveal them to you!” The old man burst into wild laughter, misunderstanding everything even more deeply.

Wu Hong had no choice. With a rapid movement, he struck several acupoints, sealing the old man’s energy.

Meanwhile, Wu Songran, watching from Wu Hong’s back, let out a cold, mocking laugh. “So this is the hypocrisy of the martial world? Upright on the surface, ruthless and indiscriminate behind closed doors, and sinister to the core.”

Wu Hong shook his head and stopped worrying about the immobilized old man. He hurried after the disciples.

The mist in the forest gradually thinned, and shapes began to emerge. The group ahead continued forward cautiously.

“Wow—so many Black Yin Fruits!” The youngest female disciple gasped in awe upon spotting several trees laden with hundreds of the chillingly radiant fruits. The sight left the entire group dumbfounded. It was said that even a single Black Yin Fruit could raise one’s cultivation to the Marrow Refining stage, and here were hundreds—each shimmering with a cold luster like peaches, yet with subtle differences that marked them as extraordinary.

With so much fruit on hand, there was no longer any worry about how to divide them. Wu Hong was also amazed; from what he had overheard, these fruits were priceless, nearly extinct in the outside world. Who could have imagined there would be so many in this hidden world within the cave?

Yet he remained still, uneasy. Something felt wrong.

“Senior brother, I’ll go pick one!” the cheerful female disciple volunteered. Her cultivation was unremarkable and her looks plain, but as the only girl, she was much beloved by the others. No one objected to her suggestion.

Each of the disciples harbored their own thoughts, so no one stopped her.

The Black Yin Fruit trees were not tall. The girl leapt up four or five meters, swinging her sword to cut down a branch bearing a fruit.

“Heehee—what a beautiful fruit!” she giggled, biting into the fruit.

Seeing her eat it without ill effect, everyone relaxed. Immediately, the rest began to pick the fruits in earnest.

Unable to contain themselves, they each bit into the fruits hungrily.

Wu Hong watched but did not move.

First, the old King of Medicine had been extremely cautious about the Black Yin Fruit, suggesting that eating it so carelessly was unwise.

Second, despite everyone gorging themselves, a few fruits remained untouched on the trees.

It’s said that rarity makes things precious. When things are abundant, they are no longer cherished. Some of these disciples had already eaten several fruits each, tossing aside the glittering pits like worthless stones—something they would never do if there were only one.

Some, not yet satisfied, were about to leap up for more when a chilling scream echoed through the woods.

“Ah—!” In an instant, the unfortunate disciple was encased in a thick layer of ice, which shattered with a deafening crash, sending bloody shards flying everywhere.

The horror was unspeakable. The others immediately circulated their energy in alarm. More screams followed as, one by one, they met the same fate—frozen solid, then shattered into countless pieces, without even time for a final cry.

In the blink of an eye, all were dead.

Wu Hong and Wu Songran, witnessing this from behind, felt their blood run cold, their foreheads slick with sweat.

“This is terrifying! How could the Black Yin Fruit be a spiritual fruit that enhances cultivation? It’s clearly a deadly poison!” Wu Hong exclaimed.

Wu Songran, though pale, replied, “Not necessarily, brother. The Black Yin Fruit can indeed unlock the body’s potential, but I suspect these disciples ate it incorrectly, which led to their deaths.”

Wu Hong considered this. The King of Medicine was renowned as a healer, not a poisoner. Why would he be so obsessed with a deadly toxin, even on the brink of death?

But prying secrets from the old man’s lips seemed nearly impossible.

Carrying Wu Songran, Wu Hong approached one of the trees, setting her gently against its trunk. With a light leap, he picked a Black Yin Fruit. It was icy cold to the touch but otherwise unremarkable. Why was it rumored to boost power and even save lives?

Thinking this, he raised the fruit to his lips.

“Brother, what are you doing? It’s too dangerous!” Wu Songran’s eyes widened in alarm.

Wu Hong smiled. “I’ll just take a tiny bite. My body is already protected by an antidote pill; a small taste shouldn’t harm me.”

Wu Songran wanted to protest—if you die, what will become of me?—but the words stuck in her throat.

Wu Hong took a small bite. The fruit was cold as ice, yet not hard, melting instantly in his mouth.

He cautiously circulated his energy, only to feel himself plunged into a freezing abyss, his body growing numb with cold.

“Brother—!” Wu Songran screamed, as she watched ice rapidly form over Wu Hong’s skin.