Chapter 20: Wu Lie Riverbank

After breakfast, Lu Ran walked to a desolate area in the west city, holding an umbrella and a wooden sword.

In the fine rain, several abandoned apartment buildings stood silently; this neighborhood had once borne a fitting name—Wu Lie Riverbank.

Lu Ran entered the southernmost building, climbed step by step to the rooftop, and arrived at the southeast corner.

For nearly two years, he had trained here.

This was where his father died in the line of duty; it was quiet here, and the view was unexpectedly beautiful.

Gazing into the distance, through the misty rain, Lu Ran could see the Wu Lie River rolling onward with mighty force.

Since his birth, this great river had remained unchanged.

He silently watched for a long while, then closed his umbrella and picked up his wooden sword.

“Huh!” Lu Ran slashed out, as if slicing through the rain curtain.

Around his body, wisps of mist and divine energy began to gather.

“Dad, how’s this move?”

“And this one—I used it yesterday to kill a dog.”

“By the way, your Radiant Blade is incredibly useful—cutting off dog heads is like slicing tofu.”

Beneath dark clouds, slanting wind and fine rain.

On the rooftop, shadow and blade-traces.

The rain grew lighter, but the mist around Lu Ran grew thicker.

This was only his sixth day as a believer, yet his physical condition had already leapt to a new level!

Especially after yesterday’s physical exhaustion, the god’s blessing overnight had rejuvenated him—he moved with terrifying speed.

“Hmm?” Lu Ran’s peripheral vision caught something—he turned his head instantly.

At the entrance to the stairwell leading to the rooftop, a fuzzy little head peeked out.

A tabby cat?

This was the seventh-floor rooftop—why had this little thing climbed so high?

The tabby cat was equally curious, tilting its head at Lu Ran, who seemed ethereal with divine mist. The human and the cat locked eyes.

Lu Ran wiped his wet face, crouched down, and said: “Come.”

The tabby cat retreated slightly, its eyes filled with wariness.

“Come, don’t be afraid.” Lu Ran extended his palm forward.

“Meow~” The tabby cat turned and bolted, vanishing into the dilapidated stairwell.

Hmph,

A little cat, thinking it could run?

Lu Ran called out: “Baa~”

Inside the stairs, the tabby cat froze—its upright ears twitched slightly.

“Baa~”

The sheep call came again—the tabby cat’s expression changed instantly!

Lu Ran remained calmly crouched. After just two or three seconds, the cat returned.

Now, the tabby cat was no longer the adorable little creature it had been.

It crept forward, ears trembling, tail flicking, its vertical pupils narrowing to slits.

Divine Art: Sound of Despair!

The tiny tabby cat’s hunting instinct was awakened—and with it, the feline instinct to toy with prey.

“Meow!”

The tabby cat shrieked and, in the open hunting ground, launched itself swiftly at Lu Ran.

Lu Ran remained calm and spoke again: “Baa~”

“Meow?” The tabby cat slammed on the brakes, its tiny legs kicking like spinning wheels.

Authentic Divine Art: Sound of Compassion!

Soaked to the skin, Lu Ran sat down on the ground and extended his hand: “Baa~”

People really do change.

On the day he first became a believer, Lu Ran had been ashamed of making “baa” sounds—so much so he’d wanted to bash his head against his desk.

Now, he baaed better than any sheep!

Even a real sheep might ask him: “Why do you look so human?”

“Meow?” The tabby cat’s hunting posture vanished—its pupils widened into round orbs, its head tilted as it studied Lu Ran.

Then, the tabby cat was utterly lost in the baaing.

Its heart nearly broke!

The tabby cat rushed to Lu Ran’s hand, rubbing its fuzzy head against his palm, licking his fingers, soothing this pitiful human.

“Are you alone too?” Lu Ran gently stroked the cat’s filthy head and asked softly.

Unexpectedly, the tabby cat suddenly rolled onto its side, one paw nudging Lu Ran’s fingers—as if pulling him closer.

“Don’t lie down—the ground’s cold and wet.” Lu Ran tried to lift the cat.

“Meow~ meow~”

The tabby cat softly mewed, persistently nudging his fingers, clearly urging him to come closer.

Lu Ran stared at the cat’s exposed belly as it lay on its side.

He thought for a moment—then a sudden insight struck him—he understood the cat’s intent.

“No, I’m not hungry!” Lu Ran was stunned. “I had breakfast—I’m not eating. Hey, no, I won’t, just put it away!”

The tabby cat looked at Lu Ran and softly mewed: “Meow~”

What did that mean?

Don’t be polite?

Lu Ran nearly cried: “I really won’t eat, Miss Cat! Save it for your kittens!”

“Lu Ran?”

Lu Ran jumped—he’d almost thought the cat had spoken.

He looked up to see a slender figure emerging from the stairwell entrance.

Jiang Ruyi?

Her ordinary clothes couldn’t hide her youthful beauty—out of place in this dilapidated, filthy rooftop.

“You’re really here,” the girl’s gaze swept between Lu Ran and the cat. “What did you just say you were eating?”

“N-nothing,” Lu Ran quickly pulled the tabby cat into his arms.

Jiang Ruyi looked skeptical—she was certain she hadn’t misheard.

“Lu Brother, you’ve got quite the spot picked out,” Deng Yu said, stepping out of the stairwell with an umbrella.

“Why are you here?” Lu Ran was puzzled.

Deng Yu couldn’t possibly know Lu Ran’s training spot—he must have followed Jiang Ruyi.

“We couldn’t reach you,” Deng Yu glanced around. “We went to your place—you weren’t there.”

“Ah,” Lu Ran felt embarrassed. “I left my phone on the bed.”

Jiang Ruyi stepped before Lu Ran, crouched down, and stared at the filthy little cat in his arms.

She extended a pale finger and gently stroked the cat’s dirty fur: “So sweet.”

Hearing this, Lu Ran’s expression turned strange.

My Miss Cat isn’t just sweet—she’s got a job to do!

Just now she was trying to feed me milk.

“This view is truly exhilarating!” Deng Yu walked to the rooftop railing, gazing at the roaring river, genuinely awed.

Lu Ran nodded in agreement and asked: “What did you come for?”

Deng Yu planted one foot on the stone railing: “The school called to notify us—prepare mentally. The squad will be reorganized.”

“What?” Lu Ran’s face showed surprise. “Our performance is excellent—why change us randomly?”

Seeing Lu Ran’s reaction, Jiang Ruyi and Deng Yu exchanged glances.

Lu Ran, unaware, continued: “Teams that need adjusting are those with mismatched roles.

Our four-person team is perfectly balanced—no need to change!”

“Squad reorganization ultimately depends on personal preference. If we clearly state our wishes, the school won’t interfere.”

Lu Ran fell silent—suddenly understanding why Jiang and Deng had exchanged glances.

Four words: personal preference.

Four people’s preferences keep the squad stable.

One person’s preference can pull them away.

After all, squads go to battle—it’s no game. A team must not only be well-balanced but also united!

Deng Yu looked at Jiang Meiren: “I told you, Lu Brother wouldn’t leave without a word.”

Jiang Ruyi said nothing, her fingertip gently pinching the cat’s ear.

“So Wu Shanshan is leaving?” Lu Ran frowned.

The school hadn’t consulted any of them beforehand—it simply announced the squad would change.

This meant the reorganization was very likely initiated by an internal member.

And this member’s personal determination is extremely strong—the kind that’s non-negotiable!

“Meow~”

The tabby cat suddenly darted off.

The stray kitten had regained her senses and seized the chance to flee.

Deng Yu: “We tried contacting Wu Shanshan, but couldn’t reach her.”

Lu Ran understood—he couldn’t blame his teammates for misunderstanding him.

“That doesn’t make sense.” Lu Ran thought again and again, baffled. “Why did she leave? There’s no reason.”

This team’s performance was outstanding, and their positioning was ideal—Lu Ran truly couldn’t find any reason for Wu Shanshan to quit.

So.

Lu Ran’s expression darkened: “Is it because I’m a Xiang Xianyang believer?”

Yes, Xiang Xianyang believers indeed have a terrible reputation.

But didn’t my powerful, almost divine performance yesterday prove enough?

Or did she find a better teammate?

Did she go to Ma Tianchuan?

If so, Lu Ran’s heart would feel slightly better.

What he couldn’t accept was that her absolute, unwavering decision to leave was because of his very existence.

In Lu Ran’s mind, Wu Shanshan was a points addict—obsessed with performance.

And yet, even when their team stood a strong chance of taking first place, she still firmly left.

She thinks she’s visionary, cutting off her wrist to save her arm, unblinded by short-term gains, right?

The label “Xiang Xianyang believer” truly stands like a great mountain in people’s hearts.

No matter how astonishing Lu Ran’s temporary performance, it cannot shake that mountain—she had already sealed his future in her mind.

“Maybe it’s not like that, Brother Lu, don’t let your imagination run wild,” Deng Yu said, trying to comfort him.

But no one was foolish—this kind of comfort had no effect.

“Hmph.” Lu Ran let out a cold snort. “Then I wish her a brilliant future.”

Deng Yu laughed. “Brother Lu, what a generous heart!”

Lu Ran grinned. “I’m faking it.”

Jiang Ruyi: “...”

Deng Yu burst out laughing. “Brother Lu, how candid!”

Lu Ran: “...”

You can praise me whether I’m right-side up or upside down, huh?

Honestly, if some handsome, wealthy, young second-generation heir kept sweet-talking you every day—

Who could possibly resist?

“Let’s call the school later and express our personal wishes,” Jiang Ruyi said softly.

Her gentle voice carried a hint of reassurance: “As long as the three of us stay together, there are plenty who want to join us.”

That was true—some believed Xiang Xianyang believers were a hidden danger, destined to fail or cause major problems.

Others believed that Lu Ran, who could summon demons, was no ordinary man.

Earlier, on the school playground, many students had surrounded Lu Ran, volunteering themselves.

“I feel the same,” Deng Yu turned to look at Lu Ran, seated on the ground, probing. “What about you, Brother Lu?”

“I’ve thought of much more,” Lu Ran stood up. “In the future, whether in exams or on the battlefield, I want to lead—and stay ahead, always.”

Lu Ran walked toward the rooftop railing, his words truly candid: “I want her to regret it.”

“I want her, when she joins every future team and meets every teammate, to remember how good I was.”

Jiang Ruyi covered her mouth with a light laugh, gazing at Lu Ran’s back: “You’re quite vengeful.”

“You’re a Yu Fu believer—you wouldn’t understand,” Lu Ran shook his head. “Wu Shanshan isn’t just one person—she’s a type.”

You, as a Yu Fu believer, need only stand there—you shine brilliantly enough.

No one looks down on you; no one dares question you.

I’m different.

I’m the weak, easily bullied Xiang Xianyang believer, the little lamb in the world’s eyes.

I need to prove myself.

And I need to prove it again and again, over and over.

“Huh.”

Lu Ran took a deep breath, gazing across the gloomy sky toward the raging, surging Wu Lie River.

This kind of life—

I love it so much.

A new month begins—brothers, please support me with monthly votes!

(End of Chapter)