Ma the Fifth's dance hall was celebrating its grand opening, and Chu Huaiyuan had come specially to offer her congratulations. Li Banfeng stood quietly in a corner of the hall, observing this Second Miss Chu's appearance.
Deep-set eyes, a high-bridged nose, a slightly wide mouth with full, crimson lips, and a smooth, rounded face devoid of sharp angles.
Her complexion was impossible to judge beneath the heavy layer of rouge and powder. Her gaze was elusive and unfathomable, brimming with demonic allure under thick eyeshadow.
The dance began. To the rhythm of a waltz, the guests took their dance hostesses by the hand and moved onto the floor.
Playing this waltz was purely to set the mood; most of the guests were villagers from Lanyang Village, few of whom knew how to dance.
The dance hostesses had also been hired from the village. After a mere two days of crash training, there was no way they could have mastered the waltz. Everyone was just trying to earn a living, clutching each other and bumbling about blindly. Nobody else took it seriously, but Second Miss Chu's scalp prickled just watching it.
A daughter of a noble house could not stomach such a display.
"Fifth Young Master, this place really doesn't suit you."
Ma the Fifth offered a faint smile and held his tongue.
Chu Huaiyuan extended a hand. "Dance with me."
When a lady invited a gentleman, he ought not refuse.
Yet Ma the Fifth had no desire to dance with Chu Huaiyuan; he wanted no contact with her whatsoever.
He was afraid.
He had heard about Liu Changyu.
The news of Second Miss Chu fiercely striking down mountain bandits had already made the papers.
Liu Changyu's face had been taken by Second Miss Chu as a trophy, preserved in a liquor bottle.
"Forgive me, Second Miss, my leg is injured." Ma the Fifth touched his own cheek, utterly unwilling to dance with Chu the Second under any circumstances.
Chu the Second curved her red lips. "When I watched you greeting guests just now, you were walking quite briskly."
Ma the Fifth explained, "I was merely putting up a front. My right leg has been hurt for days, swollen beyond recognition. I truly cannot dance."
Chu the Second pressed no further, turning her gaze toward Li Banfeng instead.
As a tier-three Dwelling Cultivator, hardly anyone present would have noticed Li Banfeng.
However, her head guard, Wen Hongyan, had whispered a reminder to Chu the Second, suspecting that this man in the fedora possessed a peculiar status—even Ma the Fifth paid extraordinary attention to him.
Chu Huaiyuan approached Li Banfeng, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Sir, may I have this dance?"
Li Banfeng shook his head slightly. "I don't know how to dance."
"Dancing is simple. I will teach you."
Li Banfeng gave a profound smile and declined Chu the Second's invitation once more.
*Teach me to dance, claim I took liberties with her, and then shake me down for grease money.*
*Did she think he was a fool? He had already suffered that trick once before!*
Chu the Second's pride took a hit.
To be refused twice in a row in a grotesque dive like this—where was she supposed to put her face?
Brooking no argument, Chu Huaiyuan took Li Banfeng by the arm and pulled him onto the dance floor.
*Why is this woman so overbearing?*
If today had not been an auspicious occasion, Li Banfeng would have snapped on the spot; he could not stand being extorted. But on opening day, one had to keep things auspicious. Li Banfeng forced down his anger, though he would never give her a single copper of grease money.
In truth, he had picked up a few steps at the Xianle Dance Hall, and paired with the rock-steady footing of a journey cultivator, his dancing was actually quite decent.
Moving to the rhythm of the music, Chu the Second turned, steering them directly before a photographer.
*Not good—the photographer is about to take a picture!*
Why did Chu the Second have a photographer following her around?
Given his current situation, having his picture taken was one of Li Banfeng's absolute taboos.
Li Banfeng suddenly ducked his head, letting his hand slide down past Chu the Second's waist and giving her a fierce pinch.
The photographer failed to press the shutter—the scene was rather inappropriate.
Chu the Second gasped, "How dare you!"
Li Banfeng's expression remained tranquil. "Since you're going to shake me down for grease money anyway, I might as well get my hands full of grease first."
Chu the Second was utterly bewildered. "What grease money?"
Li Banfeng gave a dark smile. Under the shadow of his hat brim, a hint of murderous intent flashed in his eyes.
Chu the Second was not in the least intimidated by that murderous aura. Shifting her footing, she steered Li Banfeng back in front of the photographer once more.
Li Banfeng showed no courtesy, twisting her peach into a tight knot.
The sight was indecorous, and the photographer failed to take the picture again.
A full-body shot was out of the question, so the photographer tried for a half-length portrait, but Li Banfeng's feet shifted swiftly, sliding out of the lens's field of view.
Surprise crossed Chu the Second's face. She almost seemed to have enjoyed the taste of that twist just now and wanted him to give her another, so she led Li Banfeng back toward the photographer once more.
Li Banfeng spun Chu the Second through a circle and slammed directly into the photographer. Unable to dodge in time, the man dropped his camera; it shattered on the floor, exposing all the film inside.
Furious, Chu the Second tried to steer Li Banfeng into the gramophone.
The gramophone was expensive and could not be damaged. Li Banfeng changed direction midway, sending Chu the Second crashing into one of the hall's pillars instead.
It was a heavy impact; Chu the Second wobbled, nearly falling over.
Yang Yanzheng's brow furrowed, while head guard Wen Hongyan licked her arm, ready to strike at any moment.
Li Banfeng sensed the danger, the murderous intent in his eyes deepening.
Chu the Second signaled her people not to act rashly, and the two resumed dancing in the center of the floor.
Ma the Fifth broke into a cold sweat for Li Banfeng.
Sweat also poured down Li Banfeng's face.
Chu the Second's fingernails suddenly lengthened, tearing through his clothes and digging into his flesh.
Li Banfeng executed another sweeping spin, slamming Chu the Second into the pillar once again.
The two moved with blistering speed. Ordinary onlookers failed to notice, hearing only the sporadic, heavy thuds against the pillar.
When the dance ended, Chu the Second was covered in bruises, and Li Banfeng's back was dripping with blood.
The two bowed and returned to their respective seats.
Wen Hongyan asked, "Miss, should we slaughter that wretch?"
Chu the Second rubbed the bruise on her shoulder. "It was just a dance, and what an exhilarating dance it was. No need to fuss over it."
Li Banfeng downed a cup of liquor, stood up immediately, and left the dance hall.
*That vicious woman is not only ruthless, she damn well poisoned me.*
Feeling waves of numbness and itching across his back, Li Banfeng hurried back to the Portable Abode.
Once inside the room, he stripped off his shirt and prepared to let his wife treat the injury, only for her to suddenly roar, "Woe is me, you madman! Whence came these claw marks upon your back?!"
Li Banfeng explained, "Scratched by a woman."
"Hear that! You actually admit it! With gouges driven in this deep, you must have labored mightily!"
Li Banfeng pointed to his back. "I was poisoned."
"You used poison too? Such tricks you two played!"
Li Banfeng lifted his torn shirt. "My clothes were torn too."
"The clothes were torn..."
*Clatter-clank—*
The gramophone calmed down somewhat, puffing out a cloud of steam that caressed Li Banfeng's back.
If the clothes had not been torn and only Li Banfeng had been scraped, that would have been a grave matter.
Now that both the clothes and Li Banfeng were torn, it proved he had at least been wearing clothes at the time.
Under the soothing steam, Li Banfeng broke into a profuse sweat. Once the sweat evaporated, the torment of the itching and numbness vanished, and the poison was thoroughly dispelled.
Li Banfeng lay prone on the bed as the wounds on his back rapidly scabbed over. A Dwelling Cultivator's regenerative power inside his own dwelling was astonishing.
The steam continued to stroke his back gently as the gramophone sang softly, "That vicious wench is so cruel. Deliver her to your humble slave, and your slave will avenge my husband."
Li Banfeng snorted. "Do you want revenge, or do you just want a meal?"
"Hmph—your slave cherishes Husband so tenderly, how can Husband speak with such mockery?"
The gramophone felt deeply aggrieved. Lifting Li Banfeng's clothes on plumes of steam, it began mending them with exquisite care.
*Clack-clack-clack!*
Having integrated the functions of the sewing gramophone, the wife's stylus could thread a needle, mending at tremendous speed.
Once the garment was patched, the wife asked, "Come to think of it, that vicious woman is human, isn't she?"
"Of course she is. Why do you ask?"
"Woe is me... Golden Eyes Discerning the Minutest Detail distinguish yin and yang, while Hundred Flavors Exquisite rests upon the tip of the nose. Husband must have been dazzled and blinded by that woman today, forgetting your own techniques—there is a scent of incense smoke upon you."
"Truly?"
Li Banfeng picked up the shirt and sniffed it. The powder and perfume were overpowering, but upon closer distinction, there was indeed a trace of incense smoke.
How had he overlooked that scent?
It was not that Li Banfeng had been careless. In the dance hall, the stench of tobacco, liquor, and heavy cosmetics had been far too chaotic and pungent, smothering the faint whiff of incense. Li Banfeng genuinely had not been able to distinguish it.
*Could Chu the Second be a ghost?*
That made no sense.
Li Banfeng had been on his guard against her the whole time. If she were a ghost, he would have at least seen ghost flames.
***
As the dance drew to an end, Chu the Second took her leave. Ma the Fifth prepared a carriage to escort her to the village entrance, then returned to the dance hall to tally the day's expenses.
Watching Chu the Second's carriage disappear into the distance, Liu Liangyi's figure emerged at the entrance of the village.
He held a stick of burning incense in his hand, its curling smoke drifting all the way toward Mengchun Garden.
Inside the dance hall, Ma the Fifth was doing accounts. On opening day, all the attendees were invited guests, incurring considerable expense.
Just as he reached a critical calculation, a dance hostess cried out in alarm, "What are you doing? Don't you watch where you're going?"
Looking toward the noise, a man had walked into the dance hall, bumping the hostess so hard she stumbled.
The man wore a mandarin jacket and a dome-topped felt hat, a scarf wrapped around his face concealing his features.
Xiao Chuan stepped forward to steady the woman and said to the man, "We're closed. If you want to dance, come back tomorrow."
The man said nothing, marching straight ahead.
Xiao Chuan frowned. "Can't you hear me? We're closed!"
The man abruptly drew a blade, slashing down toward Xiao Chuan.
Xiao Chuan was a Craft Cultivator who had yet to attain a tier, and his reactions failed to keep pace.
Ma the Fifth lunged first, shoving Xiao Chuan aside, dodging the blade, and delivering a swift kick to the man.
*Crack!*
A bone seemed to snap in the man.
Yet this did not hinder his attack in the slightest; raising his blade, he hacked at Ma the Fifth again.
Ma the Fifth dodged with ease. Others moved to help, but Ma the Fifth barked at them to stay back.
Seeing that his opponent was not particularly fast but possessed an extraordinarily resilient body, he judged him to be an unranked body cultivator.
Such a person was likely just a rogue. A good beating would settle it; there was no need to spoil the opening day's good fortune over him, much less let any of his men get hurt.
He cast a glance at the man, intending to subdue him with his technique of bewilderment.
The man showed zero reaction, slashing toward Ma the Fifth blade after blade.
*He can resist bewilderment?*
*Does this man actually possess a cultivation tier?*
With the grand opening underway, Ma the Fifth truly did not want to draw blood.
Yet this adversary clearly could not be underestimated.
Ma the Fifth drew the short sword from his back, intending to sever one of the man's arms.
*Snap!*
The arm came off, yet not a drop of blood flowed.
Inspecting the stump at the shoulder, Ma the Fifth's brows locked tight.
The stump was hollow, revealing a framework of bamboo splints within.
This was a paper figure!
His thoughts immediately leaped to Liu Liangyi, shopkeeper of the Liu Family Paper Horse Shop.
Liu Liangyi was a tier-four Nightmare Cultivator, and these paper figures were his hallmark art.
He had come for vengeance!
Xiao Chuanzi also recognized it for a paper figure. Pulling out a matchbox, he shouted, "Young Master, move aside! I'll burn him!"
"Don't do anything reckless!" Ma the Fifth barked at Xiao Chuanzi.
Set him on fire?
A paper figure felt no pain; it would only throw itself at people while blazing with fire.
Ma the Fifth swung his short sword, chopping the paper figure to pieces. A gust of sinister wind swept outside the window, snuffling out every candle flame in the hall.
"Move, out!" Ma the Fifth ordered an immediate evacuation of the dance hall, but on reaching the entrance, they found their exit blocked.
Over a hundred figures stood densely packed before the door, with more surging in from the surrounding wilderness.
The dance hall was surrounded.
Even Ma the Fifth could not break through, let alone the ordinary hands and hostesses who possessed no cultivation.
Hacking down two paper figures, Ma the Fifth retreated inside and called two hands to barricade the doors.
*Bang! Bang! Bang!*
The hammering against the doors was relentless as Ma the Fifth racked his brain for a solution.
These paper figures were presumably controlled by Liu Liangyi's ghost servants.
Ghost servants were departed souls, and high-tier techniques of Joy Cultivators could counter them.
Yet Ma the Fifth's tier was insufficient. Without a dharma treasure or spiritual artifact, he could not touch departed souls at all—this was what made Nightmare Cultivators so vexing.
If only he still had that fur coat.
When Ma the Fifth had been cast out of his family, the fur coat had been confiscated. Had he kept it, he would not have been reduced to scavenging garbage heaps for food; he could have made good coin as an exorcist.
Without any treasure at hand right now, what else could deal with ghost servants?
Filth!
Ma the Fifth remembered: books stated that departed souls abhorred filth, which could hold them off temporarily.
"Spit! Spit at the door!"
A dozen workers and over twenty dance hostesses spat furiously at the doors, and the thumping outside gradually subsided.
It seemed to work.
Overjoyed, Ma the Fifth instructed everyone, "Smear spit all over your faces—the more, the better! Whoever has phlegm, share some with the others! On my mark, we break out!"
Everyone spat into their palms and rubbed it across their faces. The dance hostesses abandoned all modesty; one pretty young woman blew a glob of snot into her hand and smeared it across her cheeks.
Just as Ma the Fifth was about to pull the doors open, he heard two crisp cracks!
The windowpanes shattered!
The paper figures outside had not been repelled by spit; under Liu Liangyi's direction, they had merely shifted their route of attack.
Dozens of paper figures clambered in through the windows.
"Ahhh!"
A worker screamed as a paper figure slashed across his back.
"Mother!"
A hostess was seized by a paper figure, a fistful of her hair ripped out.
The room was pitch-black, screams ringing non-stop. Ma the Fifth could not even tell who was human and who was paper.
"Spit!" In his panic, this was the only trick Ma the Fifth could think of.
Did it work?
Such a meager amount of filth had a pitifully limited effect.
These were the ghost servants of a tier-four Nightmare Cultivator. Spitting in a paper figure's face caused it to pause for a mere fraction of a second before swinging its blade again.
Ma the Fifth hacked one paper figure to pieces, but the ghost servant slipped out and possessed another paper figure, completely unscathed, pressing the slaughter.
Lurking at the village entrance, Liu Liangyi paused for a moment and shook his head.
He had not expected Ma the Fifth to be of such meager caliber.
He had assumed that since Ma the Fifth killed Song Jiasen, his cultivation must have reached tier three and he would have at least several dharma treasures.
Had he known Ma the Fifth had so little to show, he would not even have bothered with paper figures; sending a dozen ghost servants would have finished them all off.
Driven into a desperate corner, Ma the Fifth yelled to the crowd, "Piss! Piss on them! Spray them!"
In such mortal peril, men and women alike cast aside all shame, reaching down, squaring their stance, and preparing to open fire.
Yet the paper figures gave them no chance to fire, hacking away with their blades!
Just as the trapped crowd was cornered and about to be chopped into mincemeat, a hulking dark figure charged out of the latrine, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Young Master, fear not! Follow me!"
The dark brute carried a two-foot iron bucket on his back and wielded a five-foot ladle. He flung out a wave of sludgy muck toward the paper figures. A swath of paper figures froze dead in their tracks, while the rest pressed against the walls to dodge.
Xiao Genzi had arrived!
He had come carrying his bucket!
Now *this* was genuine filth!
Nightsoil broth was chief among all filth, and nightsoil broth refined by a Gold Cultivator was the supreme pinnacle of foulness!
Xiao Genzi had not had an easy time. To save Ma the Fifth, he had fought seven passes through the siege outside before diving through the latrine window.
Having replenished his ammunition in the latrine, Xiao Genzi charged right into the middle of the dance floor.
After a fierce skirmish, Xiao Genzi took his stand by the window and unstrapped the nightsoil bucket from his back.
He raised the bucket, cowing a swarm of paper figures.
He swept his long ladle, splashing Ma the Fifth right across the face.
"Young Master, this way!"
Ma the Fifth wiped his face and led the others, surging toward the window behind Xiao Genzi.
Gold Cultivators countered Nightmare Cultivators. Had this been Du Hongxi, the tier-two Nightmare Cultivator from the Jiangxiang Gang, even if Xiao Genzi could not win, he could have carved out a path to survival.
Unfortunately, these were the ghost servants of a tier-four Nightmare Cultivator.
Liu Liangyi sneered, "I thought Gold Cultivators had gone extinct. Who would have guessed one still walked the earth? Fine, I'll send you on your way, saving the world from your lingering stench."
Setting down the incense stick, he lit a candle, intending to transmit his will through the flame to compel the ghost servants into a brute-force charge.
Xiao Genzi had not yet attained a tier. The filth in his bucket was neither abundant enough nor potent enough; if the ghost servants forced their way through, they could easily breach his foul defenses.
Liu Liangyi's methods were ever so cautious.
A sneak attack had the lowest cost and highest return. He would never show himself in person; Ma the Fifth would never even see his face before drawing his last breath.
The candle flame flickered, his intent on the verge of erupting.
*Ding-ring!*
What was that sound?
*Pfft!*
Li Banfeng drove a blade straight into the back of Liu Liangyi's skull, then blew out the candle.
A tier-three Dwelling Cultivator had been overlooked by Liu Liangyi—and overlooked by the ghost servants at his side as well.
Sneak attacks were indeed the most advantageous; Li Banfeng agreed wholeheartedly.
Chapter 133