Not Tough Enough (Monthly Votes 7200+)

"No need to guess. I came specifically for you."

"If I'd arrived any later, you'd have been buried in the Heroes' Grave."

Zhao Cheng waved a hand.

"You don't seriously think your current condition is normal, do you?!"

Hearing this, Zhou Yu fell into thought. Then, with a solemn expression, he said, "It should be perfectly normal, right? What does a single dog like you know about love?!"

Though he could already tell that something was wrong, he still had to keep his mouth tough.

Zhao Cheng fell silent. After a while, he said, "Then good luck!"

Then he turned and left.

Seeing this, Zhou Yu immediately cried out, "Old Zhao, save me!"

"I think I'm sick—seriously sick!"

"No, that's not right. I'm already terminally ill!"

"But how did you know I was sick? Could what they say online be true? That there are two kinds of myths—one is a false myth, while the other is a true myth that only looks like a Sword Master?!"

Zhou Yu began chattering away, only to discover that near Zhao Cheng, even the sickness in his heart seemed to have eased considerably, and he was brimming with vitality again.

Before he had even finished speaking, though, he felt an invisible bolt of lightning strike down upon the crown of his head. In an instant, his mind went blank, and his entire body—even his soul—seemed to tingle and go numb in waves.

He had no idea how much time had passed before he finally came to. He found himself sitting on a bench by the roadside, with Zhao Cheng seated beside him, seemingly watching the pedestrians passing back and forth ahead.

Yet Zhou Yu himself felt utterly clear-headed, as if in some legend, Buddha had awakened the masses with a thunderous rebuke, pulling one