My Strange Tale Love Strategy Simulator

[Urgent mission issued!]

[Urgent mission issued!]

[Host detected to be in an emergency; emergency mission issued!]

[Urgent Mission: Escape the Spiritual Exchange Meeting]

[Success Reward: "Surging Wind Technique" for later use]

The simulator panel pops up at this moment, and the emergency mission appears for the second time.

Zhang Ying lay on the ground, an emergency mission pop-up window in front of him, his teeth chattering involuntarily in his mouth.

These two old men in front of me are definitely not good people, and this "Spiritual Exchange Association" doesn't sound like a legitimate organization just from its name. Getting them to spare my life is harder than stopping a roller coaster in mid-air.

The short old man fiddled with the yellow papers in his hand, pressing one out with his thumb, then another, the edge of which was aimed at Zhang Ying's forehead, about to fall. "Are you going to talk or not? If you don't, I'll crush you to death."

"Speak! I'll speak!" Zhang Ying didn't bother to choose his words carefully at this point and blurted out, "I have no sect or school, I'm just a self-taught kid! Please, you two big shots, have mercy and just ignore me, okay?"

"A self-taught individual?" The tall old man put his pipe back in his mouth, black smoke escaping from the rim. "Then how did you know about Houtian Peak?"

"I used to have a friend who was with Houtian Peak, but rest assured, you two big shots, we broke up a long time ago, and now we have absolutely no connection!" Zhang Ying practically shouted, his voice cracking and trembling at the end, "I really just wanted to join in the fun!"

The short old man stared at Zhang Ying for a long time, his pupil-less eyes scanning his face twice. Then he turned to the tall old man: "Judging from his tone, he doesn't seem to be lying. So, should we kill him or spare his life?"

The tall old man turned his face away impatiently: "Don't ask me, make your own decision."

"Sigh." The short old man sighed, took back the yellow paper, and patted it neatly in his palm. "I should have had Granny Kun go on this trip for me. Going on trips with you is always a huge hassle." He turned to Zhang Ying and waved his hand at him like shooing away a fly. "You're lucky, kid, you're living in a harmonious society. Decades ago, I would have chopped you up with a single piece of paper! Get lost!"

The yellow paper that had fallen to the ground floated back into his hand. The invisible force pressing down on Zhang Ying vanished abruptly, and the suffocating pressure on his chest eased. He collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. The bloodstains on his back still stung, and the finger marks on his neck had swelled up.

"Are you just going to let me off the hook like that?" Zhang Ying propped himself up on his elbows, looking at the two old men in front of him with disbelief.

Has society become so stable that even villains no longer kill people indiscriminately?

The tall old man frowned and roared, "What are you still standing there for? Get out!"

Zhang Ying nodded apologetically, his gaze sweeping past the two old men to the faint green lantern shadow behind them. Li Ziqing was still inside.

Her fists continued pounding, her wooden knuckles striking the inner wall of the illusory image again and again, making no sound, only ripples of green light spreading outwards. Her actions were no longer a struggle, but a venting of anger, a loss of control. She could no longer tolerate anyone, including him.

The two men didn't immediately try to kill her; they simply restrained her. Perhaps it wasn't that they didn't want to, but that they couldn't. If they could release Li Ziqing, even if they couldn't kill the two men, they would at least have some leverage to protect themselves.

The phantom that trapped her looked exactly like the green paper lantern in the tall man's hand. Perhaps if she snatched it and smashed it, the lantern phantom would shatter along with it.

But as this thought crossed his mind, he also knew that he was just an ordinary person. Trying to snatch something from two old men who knew magic was like trying to poke a city wall with a toothpick. Not to mention, even if he managed to snatch it and smash it, whether the lantern's phantom image would break or whether Li Ziqing could escape was all unknown.

To gamble or not to gamble?

Zhang Ying stood there, his fingers unconsciously fidgeting with the seam of his trousers. Seeing that he didn't turn around, the short old man's ever-present upward curve of his lips slowly turned downward. "Aren't you leaving? Are you waiting for us to kick you out?"

"Senior, please calm down! I had no intention of doing that!" Zhang Ying quickly cut off his thoughts and responded aloud. The current situation did not allow him to sit down and analyze the situation at his own pace.

If I leave now, I'll die in a few days anyway. Since I'm going to die anyway, I might as well take a gamble!

He took a deep breath, knelt on one knee, clasped his hands above his head, and his tone changed from panic to solemnity: "I have been wandering alone in this world, humbly surviving with my meager skills. Now, seeing the abilities of you two great masters, I cannot help but feel immense admiration! I hope you two great masters will generously accept me as your disciple. If I can join the spiritual and mortal exchange meeting you mentioned, I will be willing to give my life for you two great masters."

The short old man raised an eyebrow, and for the first time, a look of surprise appeared on his smiling face. He tilted his head to the other side, as if re-examining the young man in front of him who still had fingerprints on his neck.

"You brat, have you gone mad? We insisted on letting you go, and not only do you refuse, you even want to become our disciple?" He clutched the stack of yellow papers tightly in his hand. "Have you eaten some kind of wild gall?"

Zhang Ying raised his head, his gaze meeting the two aged and gloomy faces before him. His voice was still trembling, the bloodstain on his back was still burning, and the finger marks on his neck had swollen into a deep purple. Every word he uttered felt like his throat was being rubbed with sandpaper.

But he didn't look away.

"This is absolutely from the bottom of my heart. Facing you two esteemed figures, I dare not, and would never, utter a single lie. Ever since I came into contact with this other side of the world, I have longed to join a place where I can truly learn skills. It's just a pity that those so-called prestigious sects are all just for show. Only today, seeing you two true powerhouses, have I realized how vast the world is. I hope you two esteemed figures will be generous in bestowing your guidance. Even if it requires me to pay any price, I will have no complaints whatsoever!"

"Hiss—" The short old man gasped, rubbing his fingers on the edge of the yellow paper, clearly taken aback by what he had just heard. He then turned to look at the tall old man's expression.

The tall old man took a step forward. It wasn't a big step, but the sound of his shoes scraping against the floor as he landed made Zhang Ying's back tense instinctively. The old man had a pipe in his mouth, and his sharp eyes were like two awls, piercing from the top of Zhang Ying's head to his toes, and then back again.

A bead of cold sweat slid down Zhang Ying's forehead. He felt a chill run down his spine from that gaze, but he didn't look away or move.

"Aren't you afraid we'll kill you right now?" The tall old man's voice suddenly rose, shaking the windows of the music room.

Zhang Ying clenched his fists above his head until his knuckles turned white. "Kid, don't be afraid. What difference is there between me and death if I can't see a wider sky?"

"Fine! Then I'll grant you death!"

The tall old man suddenly gripped the pipe and pulled it from his mouth, black smoke billowing out and condensing into a black sword in front of him.

The entire blade was enveloped in billowing smoke, yet its edges were so sharp they seemed to slice through the air. He raised his arm, the sword held high, and brought it straight down towards Zhang Ying's head.

The sword's edge pierced the air, accompanied by a sharp whistling sound!

Finished!

Zhang Ying closed his eyes, his face deathly pale.

when!

The sound of metal clashing exploded above his head.

His tightly closed eyes snapped open. A round, yellow joss paper was hanging precisely in front of his forehead, blocking the blade of the black smoke sword. Tiny sparks crackled and popped as the yellow paper met the black smoke!

"Don't be in such a hurry, Old Xu." The short old man's smile returned. He raised his finger slightly, pushing the yellow paper up half an inch and sending the sword back.

The tall old man frowned, still holding his pipe, his sword unsheathed. "Old Turtle, what do you mean by this?"

"You know me," the short old man chuckled. "Your Cloud Mist Technique has many applications and is easy to learn. You have at least a dozen disciples, if not hundreds. My Money Technique, on the other hand, has many requirements and is difficult to learn. My disciples have either died or retired long ago. By my generation, I'm practically the only one left. I don't want this Money Technique to die out in my hands." He turned his head and glanced at Zhang Ying with his pupil-less eyes. "This kid has some skill. It would be a waste to kill him now."