Chapter Seven: Refusal

The thought of soon having dinner with Qian and Wenrou brought a surge of joy to Song Yue’s heart. He strolled leisurely through the tranquil villa district toward his own home.

This neighborhood boasted more than sixty percent greenery; pavilions and waterside pavilions nestled among towering trees provided ample shade. The environment was superb, and each residence enjoyed a high degree of privacy.

It was past eight in the evening now, and aside from a few elderly women walking their dogs, there was scarcely another soul in sight.

As Song Yue approached his house, he suddenly saw a small group of people standing there. His housekeeper, Sister Wang, stood at the door with her hands on her hips, facing them down with an imposing air.

Was the security in this neighborhood really so lax? Since when did they allow just anyone to wander in?

Song Yue frowned slightly and hurried forward. Among the group, he recognized a familiar face—Meng Xudong, the very one he had fought with earlier that day.

The group visibly relaxed the moment they spotted Song Yue. Meng Xudong quickly stepped up to explain, “Sorry, brother. I live in this neighborhood too. When I realized we were neighbors, I couldn't resist dropping by unannounced. I didn’t mean to cause any misunderstanding with this young lady…”

Young lady?

Song Yue glanced at Meng Xudong’s expression and couldn’t help but be amused. He must have suffered a little at Sister Wang’s hands.

Sure enough, Meng Xudong lowered his voice, a little embarrassed, and asked, “How is this young lady so formidable? Who is she to you?”

Song Yue’s lips twitched—are we that close? And you were just chasing after my sister this afternoon, now you’ve got your eyes on my housekeeper?

Young lady, indeed—Sister Wang was forty-seven this year and had three children already!

With that, Song Yue looked at Meng Xudong with some sympathy. “Honestly, I think martial arts suits you best.”

Meng Xudong: ???

He merely thought this elegant lady seemed impressive and wanted to get to know her. Warriors were usually obsessed with martial prowess, regardless of gender.

“Did you come to see me for something?” Song Yue didn’t warm up to Meng Xudong just because he called them neighbors.

The key was that this guy was a bit like him—a scheming martial artist with bad habits, always surrounded by an entourage.

“Um… would it be convenient to talk inside?” Meng Xudong’s face was sincere. “I really mean you no harm.”

Song Yue snorted.

Would I care about the ill will of someone I’ve already beaten?

He glanced at Meng Xudong’s followers.

Meng Xudong caught on and waved his hand. “Guys, why don’t you head to my place and wait for me.”

Once they’d left, Meng Xudong explained, “Actually, they just heard that someone managed to beat me. They were curious and wanted to see for themselves. There’s no malice.”

“Even if there were, I wouldn’t care. A true warrior never fears a challenge,” Song Yue replied sharply, then turned to Sister Wang at the door. “It’s fine, Sister. I know him. You can go rest; we’ll just talk for a bit.”

Though nearly fifty, Sister Wang looked barely past thirty, with gentle features. She still eyed Meng Xudong warily before saying to Song Yue, “Be careful with this one. When they first arrived, their attitude was a lot different. I had to teach them a little lesson.”

With that, she turned and went inside.

Song Yue looked at Meng Xudong, who scratched his nose awkwardly. “It was just my friends…”

Song Yue waved him off. “No need to explain. I get it. Not accepting defeat is normal. Give them a real match one day, and they’ll come around. Come on in.”

They entered the yard but didn’t go inside, choosing instead to sit under a large tree at the tea table.

Meng Xudong introduced himself first. “Hello, Song Yue. I’m Meng Xudong, the senior disciple of the Elite Martial Arts Hall. About what happened today, I want to explain…”

Song Yue stayed silent, watching him.

Meng Xudong continued, “First, we really meant no harm. I saw Wenrou once and was moved by her. When I heard she was a student at the Academy of Cultivation, I just wanted to get to know her. My fellow disciples weren’t here to cause trouble, just tagging along for fun.”

“Alright,” Song Yue acknowledged.

“The guy you fought earlier has a loose tongue, but he really didn’t do anything. Of course, hearing him talk that way made me uncomfortable, too. But he’s my brother, so what can I say?” Meng Xudong chuckled ruefully. “Anyway, after your lesson, I’m sure he’ll think twice next time. Let’s put the matter to rest, shall we?”

Song Yue nodded. “As long as you guys don’t swagger around like the world owes you, thinking every girl should be with you, I don’t care. It’s none of my business. Just don’t bother me.”

Meng Xudong was speechless—who’s bothering you?

“I’m talking about the Academy of Cultivation,” Song Yue said, looking him in the eye. “That’s my turf!”

Meng Xudong nodded vigorously. “Got it.”

“And one more thing,” Song Yue’s gaze sharpened. “You investigated me, didn’t you?”

Being neighbors was one thing. Hangzhou was a big city, but there were only so many top-tier villa districts. For someone like Meng Xudong, who had reached the rank of Grandmaster at such a young age, most of it came from money on top of talent. Living here was no surprise.

But for him to know Song Yue’s name and find him so precisely—Song Yue didn’t believe there hadn’t been some private investigation.

Meng Xudong admitted frankly, “My family’s local, so we have some connections. But I really meant no harm. It’s still about what happened earlier—I wanted to invite you to join the Elite Martial Arts Hall.”

“Not interested!” Song Yue wasn’t moved in the least and refused him outright.

“Why?” Meng Xudong wasn’t angry, just surprised.

He wasn’t arrogant enough to think the Elite Martial Arts Hall was unrivaled, but its reputation and status were certainly at the very top—a household name! For a martial artist, it was almost impossible to turn down such a golden signboard. It was as tempting as a top university was to students.

“I intend to challenge your hall in the future…” Song Yue replied.

Meng Xudong: …

He wanted to try persuading him further, his face earnest. “Even if you join, you can still challenge anyone you like.”

“No, I’d rather not!” Song Yue, eyes on his phone, was looking up Meng Xudong’s profile as he spoke. “The news says you just won the world championship gold medal in martial arts? Says you’re the strongest of your generation at the Elite Martial Arts Hall… But you’re not even a match for me. Challenging your hall wouldn’t be any fun.”

Meng Xudong nearly spat blood in frustration—this conversation was going nowhere. Even a world champion had his pride. Standing up, he looked at Song Yue. “Regardless, let’s leave what happened before in the past. Neither of us should bring it up again.”

Song Yue glanced up. “Seems to me you’re the only one still talking about it.”

Meng Xudong had no words, but pressed on, “I still hope you’ll consider my suggestion. Cultivating in martial arts takes more than just wealth—without a powerful backer, it will only get harder. If you join the Elite Martial Arts Hall, you’ll have a true support behind you!”

Song Yue only smiled and watched him leave.

I am my own support.

What’s a background, anyway?

Does Confucius himself count?

Ha!

So many convoluted thoughts among martial artists. I once thought highly of you, but you’re not like me. You’re more like those heroes I’ve known.