Chapter 62: Sworn Brotherhood

When he arrived at Mingyun Restaurant, Chen Meng grabbed the food and two bottles of wine that the restaurant had already prepared, and hurried back. Even so, the round trip took him forty minutes.

On his way back, he considered whether he should charge the old man’s little electric scooter, but after searching, he couldn’t even find the charging port, so he simply left it parked to the side and ignored it.

Inside the house, the old man’s face bloomed like a chrysanthemum when he saw Chen Meng return. Without waiting for Chen Meng to say a word, he had already set up the table himself.

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“Master, let me pour you some wine,” Chen Meng said with great attentiveness, though inwardly he cursed the old man yet again. After all, this meal had cost him nearly a thousand yuan.

Since there weren’t any wine glasses, the old man directly used a large porcelain jar. More than half a bottle of wine was poured in at once, and even then the jar wasn’t full.

Gulp!

The old man took a huge swig. Not at all bothered by the strength of the wine, he slowly set the cup down and said, “The wine’s a bit on the weak side, but it’ll do.”

Chen Meng almost wanted to hit him—this old man still dared complain about the wine? Each bottle had cost over two hundred! But he didn’t dare let any of this show on his face. Instead, he smiled and said, “Master, when I start making money, I’ll buy you the best wine there is—to honor you properly.”

Yes, no matter what, it was always right to show some loyalty first.

The old man picked up a piece of braised pork, looking rather sentimental. “You’re a good kid—have more heart than my unfilial son. Right, what did you want to ask me? Go ahead and ask now.”

Naturally, Chen Meng didn’t dare delay. If he missed such a good opportunity, where would he find another?

“Master, do you know anything about foundations? When people advance to Godbody lifeforms, aren’t there five types of advancement potions? I’ve heard that the more one takes, the stronger their foundation becomes,” Chen Meng asked, observing the old man closely, only to see that he looked utterly unconcerned.

Did the old man truly not know?

Chewing on braised pork, the old man mumbled, “How would I know? I’m not a Godbody lifeform. But taking more can’t hurt, I guess.”

What kind of answer was that? Was it a hint?

Chen Meng frowned. “Old man, you’ve eaten my food—you can’t fool me. This concerns my whole future.”

At this, the old man put down his chopsticks. He scratched his head and hesitated. “I really don’t know about foundations. But my unfilial son once said, the more advancement potions you take, the stronger you get. He claimed that to become a top-tier powerhouse, you have to accommodate more potions. I don’t know if that helps you. If not, then there’s nothing I can do. I’m just an ordinary person, not some great senior.”

Chen Meng fell into deep thought.

Maybe the old man really was just an ordinary person, but his words likely weren’t false.

“A top-tier powerhouse?” Chen Meng murmured. What did that mean—someone at the ninth rank of Godbody? Surely, even among such people, there were the strong and the weak. The strong would be those who had taken more potions, and the weak would be those who’d had fewer. If he made it to that level, would he be a weak ninth rank, or a strong one? Maybe that was what foundation truly meant.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” the old man asked, seeing Chen Meng unmoving. Then, grabbing the braised pork knuckle, he bit into it directly, the juices running down his chin. Chen Meng was left speechless.

“One last question. When Hong Qing advanced to first-rank Godbody, how many kinds of advancement potions did he take?” Chen Meng asked. Looking at the tribute goose that the old man hadn’t yet ravaged, he quickly took a few pieces for himself before nothing was left.

“How would I know? You can call and ask him yourself,” the old man grunted.

Chen Meng was dumbfounded. “Damn it, old man, do you know who your son is? If I dared ask him, why would I even bother asking you?”

The old man was left bewildered, feeling as if he’d suddenly become a “damn old man” again.

“Let’s eat,” Chen Meng said, not wanting to continue bickering. He picked up a bowl of rice and began eating quickly, while the old man drank and ate meat alone, clearly enjoying himself.

The two bottles of wine were soon emptied. By then, the old man was thoroughly drunk and began to ramble.

He slung an arm around Chen Meng’s shoulder, reeking of alcohol. “Brother, thanks for the meal. You’re a great guy. I want us to become sworn brothers.”

Chen Meng stared—what was the old man up to now?

“Come on, there are candles and yellow paper in the back hall. Let’s go now and swear blood brotherhood,” the old man insisted, not allowing Chen Meng to refuse. Dragging him along, he half-lifted Chen Meng off the ground and hauled him to the back hall.

Watching the old man stagger as he prepared everything, Chen Meng tried to flee several times but was caught and dragged back every time.

“Alright, that’s about it!” the old man said, but then, realizing there was nothing to witness the ritual, he made Chen Meng take out his phone and start recording. That would count as a witness, and neither could renege in the future—the video would serve as proof.

Chen Meng was at his wit’s end. Who could have predicted the old man would have such a quirk when drunk?

“What a pity there’s no wine left. Oh, wait—there’s half a bottle left from last time,” the old man muttered, pulling out a dirt-yellow bottle from under the table. Who knew what kind of wine it was.

“Come on, bleed a little!” The old man bit his own finger and dripped several drops of blood into the bottle, then gestured for Chen Meng to do the same.

Chen Meng’s first thought was that this was way too creepy. Before he could react, he felt a sting—somehow the old man had found a razor blade and sliced his finger.

“Alright, let’s begin.” Their blood mixed together. When Chen Meng saw the old man drink, he knew he’d be forced to drink next. Quickly, he raised the bottle as if to drink, but then tipped it away behind his back, avoiding the old man’s gaze.

“Old man—no, big brother—I have something to do, so I’ll be going now,” Chen Meng said, grabbing his phone and making a quick escape.

The old man, thoroughly drunk, seemed powerless to stop him.

Once outside the martial arts hall, Chen Meng drew a deep breath and silently vowed never to drink with the old man again. When the old guy got drunk, he was totally out of control.

He checked the video on his phone, intending to delete it, but then thought it might come in handy for blackmailing the old man someday—so he decided to keep it.

In the back hall of the martial arts school, the old man watched as Chen Meng left. No one could tell if he was drunk or sober. He glanced at the spilled wine mixed with their blood and gave a sigh. “What a waste.”

No one knew exactly what he regretted—maybe just the wasted wine.

PS: Thank you to “Cat Immortal” for the 1,000 Qidian coins, and to “Book Friend 160305224637103” for the 500 Qidian coins. Thank you for your support!