Bro, this guy is definitely not right in the head. Don't waste words on him, just take him down

Wang Hu's face froze mid-smirk, his expression of certain victory suddenly rigid.

The air inside the temple seemed to vanish in that instant.

Only the crackling of the bonfire remained.

Wang Hu had lived for three hundred years.

From a lowly disciple to a Golden Core elder, he had seen his fair share of fools—no fewer than eight thousand, by his estimate.

But never in his life had he encountered one as utterly, breathtakingly stupid as the man before him.

What kind of idiot wanders into a mass grave in the dead of night without a single precaution? To pay respects to the dead?

"Brother… you must be joking with me, right?" Wang Hu's facial muscles twitched as he forced a smile uglier than a grimace.

"Joking?" Su Ji raised an eyebrow, standing up from beside the bonfire and dusting off his pants with an air of impatience. "Do I look like I’m joking?"

"Where’s the ‘good merchandise’ you promised?" He craned his neck, scanning the dilapidated temple before fixing his gaze on Wang Hu, his voice thick with betrayed fury.

"Are you messing with me?"

"Do you have any idea how much I had to pay just to sneak out here? My back’s about to break!"

Su Ji gestured at the bonfire and the gnarled trees around them.

"And this is what you show me?"

"My time is precious, you know!"

One of the disciples couldn’t hold back any longer and sent Wang Hu a mental message: "Boss, this guy’s definitely got a few screws loose. Stop wasting time—just grab him!"

Wang Hu stayed silent.

That nagging sense of unease crept up again.

Something was off.

Was this guy… acting?

But the sheer, unshakable idiocy radiating from him was too flawless—not a single crack in the facade.

Most people couldn’t fake stupidity this convincingly.

"Boss, stop hesitating!"

"This moron’s just been coddled by his family!"

"Let’s grab him, take him back to the inn, and use him to extort that top-grade magic artifact from his guardian!"

Greed tipped the scales in Wang Hu’s mind.

He waved a hand, signaling his men to hold back.

Then, he plastered on another smile—this one laced with a cold edge.

"Brother, it’s all a misunderstanding."

He stepped forward, slinging an arm around Su Ji’s shoulders with false warmth.

"Of course we’ve got the goods. This is just the meeting spot—you think we’d stash delicate beauties in a place like this?"

"Just bear with us and come along."

Su Ji eyed him sideways, half-convinced. "Really?"

"Absolutely!" Wang Hu thumped his chest. "Would I lie to you?"

"Then quit wasting time—lead the way!" Su Ji shoved him off and urged impatiently.

"Right, right. This way, brother."

A glint of triumph flashed in Wang Hu’s eyes as he turned toward the temple’s rear.

His men followed, subtly encircling Su Ji, cutting off any escape.

Outside, bare feet perched lightly on a tree branch.

Su Jiu watched as Su Ji swaggered off, surrounded by the group.

Her cool fox-like eyes flickered with complicated emotions.

He really was putting on a show.

The back hall was even more decrepit than the front.

A half-collapsed Buddha statue, its head missing, stood alone in the center, draped in cobwebs and dust.

Wang Hu walked up to it, feeling around the base until his fingers found a hidden mechanism. With a push—

Rumble—

The ground beneath the statue split open, revealing a dark passage. A damp, rotting stench wafted up.

"After you, brother."

Wang Hu stepped aside with a mock-gallant gesture, his smile now outright eerie.

Su Ji peered into the blackness and wrinkled his nose.

"Why does it smell like corpses? You didn’t stash people down here, did you? They’d reek by now!"

Wang Hu’s eye twitched.

"Don’t worry—fresh as can be."

"Fine."

Su Ji clicked his tongue but stepped forward anyway.

"Wait!" Wang Hu suddenly called out.

Su Ji turned, annoyed. "Now what?"

Wang Hu rubbed his hands together, greed oozing from his grin.

"Brother, you know how risky our business is…"

Before he could finish, Su Ji cut him off with an understanding nod.

"Afraid I’ll skip out on the bill? Relax."

He rummaged in his robes and casually tossed a handful of spirit stones at Wang Hu.

"Five high-grade stones as a deposit. I’ll pay the rest if the goods are good."

Wang Hu’s eyes gleamed as he caught them.

A mere Foundation Establishment cultivator throwing around high-grade stones?

His last shred of doubt evaporated.

"Brother’s got style!"

Wang Hu’s grin widened.

"After you!"

Without another word, Su Ji descended into the tunnel.

Wang Hu and his men followed.

As the entrance sealed behind them, Wang Hu’s smile twisted into naked malice.

To him, Su Ji was already a lamb to the slaughter.

The tunnel wasn’t long. Soon, they reached a spacious stone chamber.

At its center stood a blood-red altar, carved with sinister runes.

Dozens of desiccated female cultivators hung from the walls, their essence long drained.

The stench of blood and resentment hung thick in the air.

"Here’s your ‘merchandise,’ brother."

Wang Hu’s voice echoed, dripping with mockery.

"See how… moist they all are?"

He spread his arms and laughed.

His disciples drew their weapons, grinning cruelly as they closed in.

Su Ji’s expression shifted—from careless arrogance, to shock at the altar, and finally, to perfectly feigned terror.

He leapt back like a scalded cat, finger trembling as he pointed at Wang Hu.

"You—you’re cultivators?! Why can’t I sense your qi?!"

His idiocy drew snickers from the disciples.

Wang Hu’s grin turned savage. He relished the moment when prey realized their doom too late.

"Kid, there’s a lot you don’t know about this world."

"B-blood sacrifice…" Su Ji’s gaze locked onto the altar, his face draining of color.

His voice shook with horror: "This—this is the Blood Fiend Sect’s work!"

"Was it you who massacred Anyang City?!"

Wang Hu: ???

Hold on.

The Blood Fiend Sect had been legitimate for over a millennium.

Since when did a blood altar automatically mean them?