As they pressed forward, the oppressive force grew stronger, and Pang Bo struggled to keep going.
Chu Feng suggested that Pang Bo stop worrying about him and continue alone.
But unexpectedly, Pang Bo was stubbornly resolute. He insisted on moving forward with Chu Feng, vowing to drag him along unless he himself could no longer walk.
“Well, well, isn’t this Young Master Pang?”
“You’re really helping this kid?”
“Do you actually think he can give you an immortal weapon as payment?”
A mocking voice suddenly rang out.
Looking toward the sound, Chu Feng saw the bald man and his group.
They were all sitting ahead, panting and sweating profusely, clearly unable to continue.
The sarcastic remark came from the bald man.
In truth, the bald man wasn’t particularly afraid of Pang Bo. His earlier claim of giving Pang Bo face was just a way to save his own pride. What he truly feared was Chu Feng.
Though he couldn’t understand why a True Immortal Realm cultivator made him so uneasy, that instinctive fear had prompted his retreat.
But after backing off, he felt increasingly frustrated.
Seeing Chu Feng and Pang Bo again, he couldn’t resist mocking them to vent his irritation.
Yet, faced with the bald man’s taunts, Pang Bo ignored him, turning to Chu Feng instead.
“Brother Xiuluo, you see, it’s not you holding me back. Everyone’s stuck here.”
“We’re still some distance from the mental spring. With this pressure, even peak Heavenly Immortals can’t make it. Only Martial Immortals can.”
Pang Bo stopped walking, collapsing onto the ground with a thud, panting heavily. Chu Feng could tell he was utterly exhausted.
“There’s no other way now,” Chu Feng said.
Instead of sitting, he stood tall, cleared his throat, and shouted:
“Everyone, as the saying goes, at home we rely on parents, abroad on friends. I, Xiuluo, am unwell today, my cultivation impaired, and I’m stuck here, unable to move forward.”
“If any kind soul is willing to help me, I’ll surely reward them generously!”
Chu Feng’s words drew immediate attention.
But the strongest reaction came from the bald man’s group.
“Damn it, this swindler’s at it again!” the bald man cursed under his breath, his voice low, almost a mutter.
“This guy’s shameless. He’ll get beaten up eventually,” one of his friends sneered.
“Beaten? I doubt he’ll even get that chance. No one’s going to bother with him,” another added, his voice much louder.
But Chu Feng ignored their mockery, continuing to call out despite the crowd’s jeers and discussions.
Though people passed by, offering only ridicule and no help, Chu Feng remained undeterred.
However, while Chu Feng stayed resilient, Pang Bo couldn’t stand it.
“Brother Xiuluo, give it up. People here are cold-hearted. No one will help you,” Pang Bo said.
“Who says? Didn’t you help me?” Chu Feng asked with a smile.
“I’m not boasting, but I’m different from them. I grew up here and know them too well,” Pang Bo said, his words heavy with disappointment.
“Brother Xiuluo, wait a bit. My father will come for me when he notices I haven’t arrived,” Pang Bo added.
“Alright, I’ll wait then,” Chu Feng said, sitting down.
Chu Feng wasn’t panicked. He knew his true cultivation.
He also understood that the struggle between the Thunder Behemoth and the Divine Tree Seed was temporary. Once it ended, his cultivation would recover.
“Young Master, giving up already?”
Just as Chu Feng sat, a woman’s voice sounded behind him.
Turning, Chu Feng saw a woman standing there, smiling warmly at him.
She wasn’t strikingly beautiful, but her sweet smile gave a sense of warmth and approachability.
“Senior Sister, we don’t know him. Let’s not get involved,” another voice said from behind her.
A group followed her, men and women dressed in matching robes, likely from the same sect.
They were all young, probably juniors.
“It’s the Crimson Wind Pavilion!”
“Could that be Mu Ziwei from the Crimson Wind Pavilion?”
“It looks like Mu Ziwei!”
The woman’s appearance caused a stir.
From the crowd’s murmurs, Chu Feng learned that the Crimson Wind Pavilion was a powerful force in the Reincarnation Upper Realm.
Mu Ziwei was a renowned genius among the younger generation in the realm.
No wonder she could reach this point without breaking a sweat.
Chu Feng guessed her cultivation was likely close to peak Martial Immortal, far beyond ordinary.
Her sect mates urged her to stay out of it.
But Mu Ziwei waved them off, silencing them.
Her authority was clear, as her reluctant companions quieted immediately.
“Young Master, you haven’t answered me. Why sit down? Have you given up?” Mu Ziwei asked, blinking with a smile.
Chu Feng stood, asking, “If I haven’t given up, would you be willing to help me?”
“They call you a swindler. If you deceive me, what then?” Mu Ziwei asked.
“If I deceive you, you can kill me. How’s that?” Chu Feng replied.
“Really? I won’t hold back,” Mu Ziwei said.
“Really,” Chu Feng said firmly.
“Great, I like your straightforwardness. I’ll help you,” Mu Ziwei declared.
“What reward do you seek?” Chu Feng asked.
“I admire your courage, so I’ll help you for free,” Mu Ziwei said with a smile.
“What? For free?”
The crowd was shocked.
So Mu Ziwei had been testing Chu Feng, never intending to ask for payment.
Wasn’t this too lucky?
This swindler got help from the famous Mu Ziwei so easily?
Did all talented women fall for tricks so readily?
The crowd buzzed with discussion, but most were jealous and envious of Chu Feng.
Especially the bald man and his group, who looked ready to cry from envy.
“No need to trouble you, miss. I’ll help him.”
At that moment, another woman’s voice rang out.
Looking over, two figures approached, and Chu Feng was surprised—they were Linghu Yueyue and Linghu An’an.
Compared to Chu Feng’s reaction, the onlookers were stunned.
The bald man’s group, in particular, turned green with envy.
Compared to Mu Ziwei, Linghu Yueyue and Linghu An’an were true beauties.
Linghu Yueyue, especially, could be called a peerless beauty.
But beauty aside, the key was that Linghu Yueyue reached this point with ease.
Though her identity was unknown, her relaxed demeanor suggested she was a genius no less talented than Mu Ziwei.
“Are you trying to steal him from me, miss?” Mu Ziwei asked Linghu Yueyue.
“What if I am?” Linghu Yueyue replied.
What? Stealing him?
Two exceptionally talented women were fighting to help a useless swindler?
What was going on?
“Damn, this works? What kind of dogshit luck does this swindler have?” the bald man cursed, his face green with rage.
