At this point, Le Yu could actually just dust off his hands, take Ming Yueyan, and leave. He could even ditch everyone outright without any problem.
Wasn't the reason he had gone to such lengths to scatter the sword sheaths and prevent them from fighting precisely to create an undisturbed environment for cheating? The difficulty of cheating from outside the arena was that passing along answers was easily disrupted by external interference. Just now, for example, the cheat who had used a qin-and-flute duet had been savagely beaten by Xianchan Chenchen's suona. If Le Yu used gunfire to pass along answers, it would be like hanging a sign over his own head that read, "If you've got the guts, try interrupting me."
Even if Le Yu and the others were allies, it would be useless. Not to mention allies like Cai Nü and Nieruo, who were only superficial allies engaged in mutual deception—even an idiot ally like Mietangya, who did not like drinking Honey Five-Flower Tea, certainly could not refuse the chance to stab an ally in the back. With the slightest bit of help, he could reduce his ally's score to zero. Who could resist such a lucrative deal?
It was like when your roommate stuck his butt out right next to your hand—could you really suppress the urge to give it a slap? Or when your deskmate fell asleep in class and the teacher called on him to solve a problem at the front of the room—after waking him up, would you say, "The teacher wants you to solve a problem," or, "The teacher wants you to wipe the blackboard"?
Whether it benefited oneself or not was irrelevant. Harming others was a temptation engraved in the human gene since ancient times. Le Yu had judged the sword sheaths