Chapter Forty-Three: The Four Handsome Men's Decision

What happened next left Du Zhong and Lin Meng utterly stunned. Without a word, Hu Mo used his winnings—less than ten thousand taels—to sweep the arena, betting on whichever beast entered the ring. Whichever combatant he wagered on, victory was all but assured. In the subsequent dozen or so matches, he amassed close to five million taels. The mountain of silver notes on the table made Lin Meng and Du Zhong drool with envy.

Their hearts were wracked with frustration and regret. After that fateful round, another pair of beasts with an obvious difference in strength appeared. This time, they bet on the underdog with the higher odds, but fate was cruel—they lost everything. Their money was gone, just like that.

Seeing Hu Mo’s unbroken string of victories, they too wanted to ride his coattails, but they could not bring themselves to borrow money. For the proud Four Marshals of Heavenly Fire, borrowing from others was simply too humiliating. Not even from Hu Mo could they ask, having mocked him earlier. To beg him for money now was beyond anything their pride could endure.

Hu Mo lounged lazily in his beast-hide chair, glancing at the pile of silver notes stacked like a mountain on the table, and sighed helplessly. “Ah, winning money is just too easy. There’s no challenge at all. So dull, so pointless!”

His words nearly made Lin Meng and Du Zhong cough up blood. This was blatant, naked boasting—a flagrant act of bullying.

Huang Sheng, meanwhile, was happily counting his winnings. Though each of his bets was modest, he had still pocketed several hundred thousand taels. Had he not been wary of attracting too much attention, he might have walked away with millions by now.

Hu Mo, for his part, remained discreet, never wagering more than a few tens of thousands at a time. The last thing he wanted was to draw the ire of Yan Xiao. If he placed a million-tael bet on a long shot, all eyes in Flame City would be upon him.

Hu Mo cast a glance at Du Zhong and Lin Meng. From their aggrieved expressions, he could read their every thought. Truth be told, their pitiful faces were quite a sight.

“Tell me, Young Master Du, Young Master Lin, why are you looking at me like that?” Hu Mo asked with a broad, mischievous smile, picking up a handful of silver notes and playing with them idly.

After a moment, he stood, took several bundles of notes, and placed them before the two men. “Brothers shouldn’t stand on ceremony, should they? Where has all your famous thick-skinned bravado gone? Take them—your brother has plenty,” he said with a laugh, shoving the money their way before reclining once again and closing his eyes to rest.

Indeed, this so-called beast gambling held little interest for him. There was no thrill in watching matches when he already knew the outcome, and the bouts so far had all featured only lesser beasts, failing to stir his interest.

Lin Meng and Du Zhong stared at him, dumbstruck; his generosity left them at a loss.

“What are you waiting for?” Huang Sheng chimed in, grinning as he grabbed a handful of notes. “Hu Mo’s giving them to you—just take them. Aren’t we brothers?”

Hu Mo nodded lightly, his tone calm. “Huang Sheng is right. If you’re too formal, I’ll be truly hurt.” He didn’t even glance at the pile of silver, but lounged with his eyes closed in utter ease.

Du Zhong and Lin Meng no longer demurred, reaching for the notes at once. Just then, Hu Mo’s eyes snapped open. In a strange tone, he said, “Since we’re brothers, shouldn’t we be honest with each other about some things?”

Du Zhong and Lin Meng’s hands froze in midair, their excitement vanishing in an instant. Huang Sheng calmly walked to the window, closed it, and dismissed all the attendants—he well understood the dangers of eavesdroppers.

With the guest room’s windows closed, the soundproofing was excellent. In fact, Hu Mo had long noticed someone eavesdropping, but since nothing secret had been discussed, he hadn’t cared. Now, however, the time had come for candor.

Du Zhong and Lin Meng, still leaning forward, looked at the smiling Hu Mo and the calm-faced Huang Sheng. In that instant, they both sensed a palpable danger. The atmosphere in the room was suddenly stifling.

Hu Mo stood, letting his internal power sweep through the hundred-meter radius. Every detail of the room was laid bare before him. The suite was not only soundproof, but shielded from spiritual detection as well, which put him at ease.

“Sit down—don’t just stand there, making it look as if I’m up to something nefarious,” Hu Mo said, smiling in an attempt to calm them. “You know who I am, Young Master Du, Young Master Lin. I wouldn’t harm you. Let’s just have an honest talk as brothers.”

Lin Meng and Du Zhong nodded slightly and sat gingerly on the beast-hide chairs. After a long silence, Du Zhong finally spoke in a low voice, “If you have something to say, Young Master Hu, Young Master Huang, say it plainly—no need for all this ceremony.”

Hu Mo could see right through them—it was clear they knew exactly what he was about to say.

“Sigh… Du Zhong, Lin Meng, we grew up together. At the very least, we share a certain understanding. Is there any point in pretending with me? What have you decided? Are we four brothers to drink and carouse together for a lifetime, or will we go our separate ways, perhaps even become enemies? I won’t say more—it all rests with you.” Hu Mo’s voice was calm, but the tension in the room was suffocating. Du Zhong and Lin Meng’s faces were ashen.

“You don’t need to be so silent,” Huang Sheng said, his tone suddenly stern and devoid of his usual roguishness. “I’ve already made my position clear. Out of brotherhood and personal principle, I’m standing with Hu Mo. The Huang, Du, and Lin families have all joined the Situ family’s camp—anyone in Flame City can confirm this. That’s why we must be clear about where we stand. Neither I, nor Hu Mo, want to be stabbed in the back by our own brothers.”

Hu Mo’s gaze locked on the pair. Their nervousness and confusion betrayed the truth: their families had indeed put them up to this, sending them to Hu Mo with ulterior motives.

“Du Zhong, Lin Meng, tell me—how have I treated you?” Hu Mo suddenly asked, breaking their concentration.

“Young Master Hu, I…” Lin Meng began, but the words stuck in his throat.

“I understand your meaning,” Du Zhong said at last, his face full of helplessness. “But you don’t know the situation we’re in. Yes, we’ve been brothers for over a decade, drinking and womanizing together, but we each have our burdens. Lin Meng is the sole heir of five generations—he thinks only of his family’s survival. My case is different—I have two elder brothers and a younger one, all more capable than I am. As a good-for-nothing, if I want to survive in the Du family, how can I defy them? I have money for pleasure because my family allows it. If I go against them, what future will I have? I’d lose everything, become true trash. What then?”

Hu Mo listened quietly, never interrupting. What he wanted was for them to speak their true feelings.

“And you, Lin Meng?” Hu Mo asked gently. Among the four of them, Lin Meng was the youngest and most timid, often tongue-tied when nervous.

This time, however, his face flushed red as he nodded vigorously. “Du Zhong is right. Our Lin family joined the Situ camp only to preserve our house. Many of our assets are under Situ’s control; otherwise, my father and grandfather would never have agreed. Years ago, both were indebted to your Hu family—they never wanted this. But for the sake of our line’s survival, we had no choice. I’m sorry, Hu Mo. We never dared tell you—just wanted to bury it in our hearts, for a year, or even a month. I just… I really didn’t want our brotherhood to fall apart…”

Both Lin Meng and Du Zhong were visibly emotional. Huang Sheng sighed softly, lowering his head—clearly, the two had made their choice.

“Is this truly the end of our brotherhood?” Hu Mo sighed, his mind drifting back to that night in Drunken Fragrance, when the bonds of friendship felt most genuine, when the courage to fight for his brothers had moved him deeply.

But now, everything seemed to have changed.

“So you’re giving up so easily?” A familiar voice suddenly whispered in Hu Mo’s ear, tinged with scorn.

He turned and saw a graceful figure—Cang Ling, standing there, her expression impassive yet slightly disappointed.

Hu Mo had no idea how she had appeared, or why. But her words rekindled his fighting spirit, banishing his despondency and replacing it with resolve.

“Heh, so that’s all it takes? Du Zhong, Lin Meng, if I offer you the same promise I gave Huang Sheng, will you stand with me?” As he spoke, Hu Mo stepped forward, coming almost nose to nose with them. An invisible aura radiated from him—a firm, unyielding will to fight.