Who Could Hold Their Breath the Longest!

Long Aotian and Lu Chengwen's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets.

Hua Xuening burst out laughing from the side.

Lu Chengwen held back a laugh. "Let's forget it. We're all brothers here. There's no need for this."

Long Aotian stood up. "Martial Uncle! You're being unfair!"

"I'm unfair!?"

"You said you were the most democratic, yet you went ahead and locked in the surname. How could anyone compete with Lu Chengwen then?"

Zhao Ritian said, "Stop arguing for now. Let Cheng Wen and me discuss it some more."

"Do you have a hole in your brain? Martial Uncle obviously only wants to help Lu Chengwen—that's why he set it up this way! Even if you endured calling Lu Chengwen your god-grandfather, it would be useless! Don't you get it?"

Zhao Ritian said, "Martial Uncle, you tricked me?"

Ming Disha said, "I'm mentally ill. Everyone in the martial world knows that. How could I trick anyone? Besides, you're so smart!"

Zhao Ritian bashfully waved a hand. "Don't... say that so loudly. Long Aotian will get insecure if he hears you."

Ming Disha said, "Fine! Then I'll hold a selection round. Whoever wins advances. Raise your hands—no regrets. I'll be completely impartial. How does that sound?"

Long Aotian said, "You can't give Lu Chengwen special treatment!"

"What kind of person do you take me for?" Ming Disha said. "This time, I have only three criteria! Fairness! Fairness! And fucking—fairness!"

Ming Disha thought for a moment. "How about this? We compete in three categories: intelligence, courage, and filial piety..."

Long Aotian grabbed Ming Disha's wrist. "Martial Uncle, we already did that. I already ate what I was supposed to eat, took the beatings I was supposed to take, and suffered all the suffering I was supposed to suffer. Lu Chengwen has already