Could it be that Xu Mu likes men

Xu Mu turned his gaze to Miao He, who was currently making a "come at me" taunting gesture at him.

Yet, she moved like a puppet, stiffly retreating step by step.

Xu Mu furrowed his brows. What was going on?

It felt like he’d stumbled into a chicken coop.

He then glanced at Dai Xingluo and noticed she seemed perfectly normal.

"Brother! What’s wrong with them?"

Dai Xingluo tightened her grip on the longsword in her hand and moved to Xu Mu’s side.

Xu Mu surveyed their surroundings. One thing was certain—this was an illusionary array.

Simply put, it was a formation designed to induce hallucinations.

If everything around them was an illusion, then the people before him might also be fake.

Take Meng Wanyue, for instance—there was no way she’d say something like that.

He recalled the young man earlier who, upon stepping into this array, had called out Miyako Fuka’s name.

No doubt, he too had fallen victim to the illusion, mistaking the apparition of Miyako Fuka for the real deal.

"I don’t know what’s happening either."

Xu Mu shook his head and first approached Meng Wanyue.

"What are you doing? Hey—!"

Meng Wanyue brandished a dagger, pointing it at Xu Mu.

A faint smile tugged at Xu Mu’s lips. Seeing Meng Wanyue make such an expression and say such things gave her an oddly endearing, almost foolish charm.

It was strangely captivating.

Suddenly, he accelerated, lunging toward Meng Wanyue.

Swish!

In one swift motion, he seized her wrist—the one gripping the dagger—and pinned her down onto the grass with his other hand.

"Wanyue, stay still."

Xu Mu grabbed her other wrist and focused intently.

Just as he suspected—the illusionary replicas were sophisticated, nearly indistinguishable from the real people.

But the details weren’t perfect. Like the pulse.

This Meng Wanyue had no heartbeat.

"Xingluo—"

Xu Mu turned his head just in time to see Dai Xingluo swinging her longsword straight at him.

Hum!

His body erupted with a surge of protective energy.

Crack!

The moment Dai Xingluo’s sword made contact with the energy barrier, its momentum visibly slowed.

Xu Mu’s figure flickered like a shadow, instantly reappearing behind Dai Xingluo.

He seized her wrist with one hand and clamped the other around her neck from behind.

Focusing again—no pulse. Dai Xingluo was also a fake.

Boom!

He drove his knee into her back with brutal force.

Dai Xingluo’s body convulsed violently before being sent flying, dissipating into nothingness midair.

Xu Mu scanned the others nearby. Seeing no hostile intent, he refrained from further action.

Now, he turned his attention to the surroundings, considering whether retracing his steps might lead him out.

After walking nearly a hundred meters, he found himself still trapped in the same grassy expanse.

No wonder Miyako Fuka hadn’t returned earlier—she must be stuck here too.

"Everyone might be in danger."

Xu Mu muttered under his breath. His knowledge of formations allowed him to assess the situation quickly.

If it were Meng Wanyue facing her own illusionary double, she might not have realized the truth.

Xu Mu activated Cloud Step, leaping seven or eight strides in succession until he soared a hundred meters into the air.

From this vantage point, he spotted distant figures moving across the grassland. Descending swiftly, he headed toward them.

He moved cautiously, pausing intermittently to study the array’s intricacies.

But this was an ancient ruin—the illusionary formation here was formidable.

As a novice formation master, Xu Mu had yet to decipher a way to break it.

Treading lightly on the grass, he approached the distant figures.

Before long, a woman in a white dress emerged from the nearby forest.

Her features were delicate and refined, exuding an ethereal grace.

Her eyes were like clear springs, untainted by worldly impurities.

Streaks of dark red ribbons were woven into her long, raven-black hair.

Slung across her back was a guitar case, and in her hand, she held a sheathed katana—its scabbard also adorned with a small red ribbon.

"Hello. Do you recognize me?"

Xu Mu greeted her in Mandarin.

Miyako Fuka’s eyes flickered with surprise. They had crossed paths at the hotel earlier, where she’d warned him about Dai Dongyang.

She had assumed he was an ordinary man, yet here he stood—unscathed, no less.

That alone proved he wasn’t to be underestimated.

"No response? Then you must be another fake."

Xu Mu remained still, deep in thought. If others were present, it meant they weren’t each trapped in separate illusions.

Meng Wanyue, Dai Xingluo, and the rest were likely somewhere nearby.

"I’m real."

Miyako Fuka regarded him calmly. "Our first meeting was outside a company building."

Hearing this, Xu Mu nodded inwardly. "The illusions wouldn’t know that detail. You’re definitely real."

"And how do you prove you’re real?" Miyako Fuka countered.

"You were speaking with Zhang Que at the time," Xu Mu answered without hesitation.

Miyako Fuka gave a subtle nod. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long." Xu Mu studied her. "From the two deserters you brought, I learned you entered at dawn. After all this time, have you found anything?"

"Nothing. If I had, I’d have broken free already." Miyako Fuka sighed.

Xu Mu said nothing more. He and Miyako Fuka were hardly acquainted.

Even if the other party knew, they wouldn’t tell him.

"Alright, then I’ll head over first."

Xu Mu nodded at Miyako Fuka and walked away.

Miyako Fuka watched Xu Mu’s retreating figure, slightly surprised.

She considered herself quite attractive—by normal logic, shouldn’t this man have played the gallant protector and stayed by her side?

She’d visited many ruins before and almost always encountered such men.

Though she knew most of them had ulterior motives, this was the first time she’d seen a young man like Xu Mu turn and leave without hesitation.

Could it be that Xu Mu preferred men?

Truthfully, Miyako Fuka had intended to stick with Xu Mu.

This man knew Zhang Que, so he was likely skilled.

But someone like her would never ask outright.

Xu Mu continued deeper into the ruins. Soon, Miyako Fuka emerged from the nearby forest.

The figure he’d spotted earlier wasn’t her but someone farther off in the grassy clearing.

Xu Mu quickened his pace, expanding his senses as he approached.

When he arrived, he found three people there.

Two middle-aged men he didn’t recognize.

And one person he… couldn’t quite believe.

Because that man was himself.

Xu Mu studied the "Xu Mu" before him—this was the first time he’d seen himself in three dimensions.

"Tsk tsk, this guy’s kinda handsome," he mused inwardly, circling his doppelgänger.

"Another one? Which of you two is real?"

One of the pot-bellied middle-aged men eyed Xu Mu warily.

"Relax. If we fight, the winner’s obviously the real one."

Xu Mu drew his dagger and lunged at his copy.

Swish!

The fake Xu Mu mirrored the move, but while it had replicated his appearance, his combat skills were leagues behind.

In an instant, Xu Mu slit the imposter’s throat, watching as it dissolved into nothingness.

Suddenly, Xu Mu’s eyes widened.

After the fake died, traces of a formation appeared on its fading body.

He reached out, brushing his fingers over the intricate patterns—only to find an identical formation glowing on his own wrist.

"So that’s how it is. I understand now."

Xu Mu examined the formation, nodding to himself.