Half the Truth

The next day, Tiemenbao's gates remained sealed, and Li Banfeng spent his time looking into the surrounding area. There were many villages around Tiemenbao, inhabited by simple, honest farmers. He encountered two first-tier Tillage Cultivators, but the rest had no cultivation to speak of. Li Banfeng found out where Feiying Mountain was located—over twenty li from Tiemenbao. The bandits on that mountain had a formidable reputation, seemingly even greater than that of Iron Sheep Mountain. Both the stronghold chieftain, He Zhenlei, and the vanguard gunner, Luo Dagui, were figures whose very names struck terror into the locals. These bandits had quite a record. Listening to the villagers' accounts, the single word that stood out to Li Banfeng was "ruthless." Every year, they took more than half the grain from each village. At the slightest resistance, slaughtering an entire village was a regular occurrence. This differed from how most bandits operated in Puluo Province. Ordinary bandits didn't wipe out nearby residents; they even maintained good relations with neighboring villages so that, if trouble arose, they could look out for one another. Had no prominent, powerful clans come to wipe out villainous bandits like those of Feiying Mountain? There were! The greatest power in the vicinity was Tiemenbao itself. Three hundred households of Dwelling Cultivators living together made for a formidable faction. Fort Lord Zhou Anju had once ridden alone up Feiying Mountain to fight a great battle against He Zhenlei, ending in a draw. Zhou Anju had also led over a dozen subordinates down into battle against He Zhenlei at the foot of the mountain, only to return in defeat. According to the local villagers, the only reason Fort Lord Zhou had lost was that Dwelling Cultivators could not leave their homes for extended periods. The logic held, yet Li Banfeng couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. He asked an old farmer, "Old brother, did you see Fort Lord Zhou fight He Zhenlei with your own eyes?" The old farmer shook his head. "That was a clash between immortals. Who'd dare watch that?" "If you didn't see it, how do you know the details so clearly?" "Word spread around Tiemenbao long ago! Those two battles shook heaven and earth—everyone in these parts knows about them! Fort Lord Zhou is a hero, but the bandits are just too ruthless. If even Tiemenbao can't beat them, what hope is there for common folk like us?" Earth-shaking in the telling, yet nobody had actually seen it. Li Banfeng felt an urge to go up Feiying Mountain and see what was really going on. But if that chieftain truly was a seventh- or eighth-tier cultivator, wouldn't going up there just be throwing his life away? Better to wait and see. He would find someone in the know to uncover the truth. The following day, Tiemenbao opened its gates, and Li Banfeng entered the fortress once again. Ma Dingfu shouted from before the gate, "Do your business quickly! We're closing in two hours!" Li Banfeng asked Sui Donglan, "What time do they usually close?" "Seven in the evening. Closing this early today means the trouble with Feiying Mountain still hasn't been settled." Vendors selling rice, oil, and vegetables went from house to house, but those selling cloth, sundries, and tobacco had a much harder time. Feiying Mountain was demanding ten thousand silver dollars. Most people in the fortress hadn't handed over any money, but they had to have it ready. If pushed too far, they would have no choice but to yield—after all, Dwelling Cultivators could not simply pack up and move. A woman selling cloth went to Old Man Hu's home to pick up clothing. Old Man Hu was a tailor with decent skill, and she had placed orders with him for years. Old Man Hu hadn't locked his door today; it was left ajar. The cloth vendor didn't dare barge in, knowing Dwelling Cultivators hated letting outsiders inside. She stood outside the door and called out, "Old Hu, are those two qipaos ready?" An aged voice drifted from inside. "Who is it?" Was that Old Hu? The voice didn't sound right. "It's me! Xiujuan! I came to pick up the clothes!" "Who is it really?" "It's... it's me..." Xiujuan took two steps back. A cold draft blew through, and thick mist rose within the dark hallway. Out of the mist, Old Hu's severed head drifted slowly toward Xiujuan. "Mercy!" Xiujuan shrieked, scrambling and rolling backward in terror away from Old Hu's door. Several Dwelling Cultivators who were out shopping gathered around, only to see Old Hu's head still hovering midair. The aged voice echoed through the house: "Tell me... who killed him...?" Li Banfeng wanted to step forward and look, but Wu Yongchao stopped him. "Don't go in. The dwelling spirit might be going mad." Without a master, a dwelling spirit was very likely to turn into an evil spirit. And this dwelling spirit was a special case. "Old Man Hu has been in Tiemenbao for more than fifty years, and this dwelling spirit has been with him even longer. Now that Old Hu is gone, this spirit will probably..." "Who was it?!" Before Wu Yongchao could finish, the dwelling spirit roared repeatedly, making the entire house tremble. Fifty years. The Dwelling Cultivator mentioned yesterday, who had arrived even earlier than Fort Lord Zhou, was him. Ma Dingfu hurried over and yelled at the vendors, "Go! All of you, get out! Trouble's broken out here—we're shutting down right now!" Closing again. The vendors rushed toward the exit when a loud steam whistle suddenly sounded. Woooo—woooo— Before anyone could get outside, the steam gate shut. Before long, a shout came from beyond the gate. "Fort Lord Zhou, I'm back! I told you yesterday: if I don't get my ten thousand silver dollars, I'll take one of your lives every day! You received the head, didn't you?" Fort Lord Zhou yelled sternly, "Luo Dagui, don't push people too far!" "I'm not pushing anyone! These were the rules I laid down beforehand!" As soon as the words fell, a tremendous crash echoed as several boulders plunged into the canyon. More Dwelling Cultivators' homes were damaged. All the vendors crouched on the ground, keeping quiet. They waited for Fort Lord Zhou to take a stand, but he said nothing. The vanguard gunner, Luo Dagui, called out, "Everyone, I'll be back tomorrow! If I still don't see those ten thousand silver dollars, I'll deliver you another generous gift!" With that, Luo Dagui left. The crowd waited a long time, not daring to move. Ma Dingfu swept his gaze over them and barked furiously, "Act tough! Go on, keep acting tough! Why aren't you going out to fight him?! Look what happened—a life has been lost!" Several Dwelling Cultivators glared resentfully at Wu Yongchao. These were the ones who had paid. Looking thoroughly ashamed, Wu Yongchao averted his eyes from their stares. "Who killed him?!" Old Man Hu's dwelling spirit was still roaring. Ma Dingfu looked on from a distance, then turned to the crowd. "Who's close with Old Hu? Go into his house and take a look." Wu Yongchao spoke up. "I'll go check. I know his dwelling spirit." Ma Dingfu looked at Wu Yongchao. "Calm it down properly. And remember—you owe Old Hu a life." ... Two hours later, the steam gate opened. Sui Donglan bolted for the exit, but Li Banfeng caught her arm and handed her a cup of wine. "Drink this. Come back tomorrow and wait for me at Tiemenbao." "Tiemenbao won't open tomorrow! That Ma fellow just said so!" "Even if it doesn't open, wait outside for me." "What if I run into bandits?" "Can't you hide properly?" ... Late at night, Wu Yongchao rummaged through his chests and cupboards, gathering all the loose change scattered around his home. In total, he managed to scrape together twelve silver dollars. Each household was supposed to pay thirty-six; his savings fell far short. He brought out several paintings he had previously been unwilling to sell, calculating how much they might fetch, when an old man's voice sounded by his ear: "Boy, you can't sell those paintings. We'll still need them when we fight later!" "Right now is when we need money. Later on, I can always..." Thump, thump, thump. As he spoke, a sudden knocking came from the door. Wu Yongchao's brow furrowed. At this hour, there shouldn't be any outsiders in Tiemenbao. Could Ma Dingfu have come to demand the money again? He walked to the door and peered through the peephole. Standing outside was not Ma Dingfu, but a man wearing a fedora. The peddler! Wu Yongchao opened the door and lowered his voice. "How did you get in?" Li Banfeng kept his voice even lower. "I never left." "Impossible. Every time the fortress shuts its gates, they..." "Let me in first. This isn't the place to talk." Wu Yongchao hesitated. The old man's voice sounded in his ear once more: "Let him in. He's a good man." Wu Yongchao brought Li Banfeng into the living room, checking all around several times before shutting the door. Once seated, Wu Yongchao brought up his earlier question: "How dare you sneak around and stay in the fortress? If the fort lord discovers you..." "Set that aside for now. Did you find out how Old Man Hu died when you went to his house?" Wu Yongchao hung his head, looking full of guilt. "This morning, Old Man Hu went out to dump the refuse and didn't come back for ages. The dwelling spirit caught the scent of blood outside, opened the door, and found Old Hu's head set right on the doorstep. This is all my fault..." Li Banfeng cut him off. "How early this morning? Before the iron gate opened, or after?" "Around six o'clock. The iron gate wasn't open yet." "Then how did the killer get in?" Wu Yongchao thought for a moment. "They can throw boulders from the cliff, so they must have infiltrated the fortress from above." Li Banfeng considered the height of that cliff. Then he considered the tools those people were using. Could men of that caliber really have climbed down the cliff face and killed a Dwelling Cultivator right outside his own doorstep? "What tier of cultivation did Old Man Hu have?" "He claimed to be at the third tier." Only the third tier? How could that be? "Didn't you say he'd cultivated for over fifty years? Even purely by grinding out the years, he couldn't possibly be just third tier." Wu Yongchao pondered for a moment. "I recall once when he was drunk, he spoke of his cultivation. He said that when he was young, he and his dwelling spirit fought every day, locked in life-and-death brawls. Later, to escape the dwelling spirit, he moved to Tiemenbao. For reasons unknown, his dwelling spirit tracked him all the way here, and the two kept fighting. They fought for over thirty years—his cultivation didn't grow, and his body was left covered in scars. Eventually, Old Man Hu grew too old to keep fighting, so the dwelling spirit granted him three tiers of cultivation, and they went right on fighting." There was actually this kind of dwelling spirit? Li Banfeng felt more and more that meeting his wife had been a tremendous stroke of fortune. "Why did you come to Tiemenbao?" Wu Yongchao lowered his head. He wasn't keen on sharing his past, but since the "peddler" had asked, he didn't know how to refuse. "I used to live in Lüshuiwan—not Lüshui City, but a village outside the city. From childhood, I always liked staying indoors. My family was well-off; they got me some elixir pills and built up my Dao affinity, wanting me to become a Martial Cultivator. But I had no desire to practice martial arts, so I secretly sought out a peddler to become a Dwelling Cultivator. My family considered me worthless and scolded me day in and day out, so I bought a house in Lanyang Village and moved out." "Lanyang Village?" Li Banfeng nodded. "You certainly know how to pick a spot." Wu Yongchao gave a self-deprecating smile. "I didn't know anything about picking spots. If I'd known what kind of place Lanyang Village was, I wouldn't have been lured by the cheap price to buy a house there. The only upside of Lanyang Village was how quickly a dwelling spirit arrived. Within less than a month of moving in, I had one." Naturally it was fast—that place was teeming with dead souls. Wu Yongchao continued, "I know how to paint and tailor, and I thought I could make a living on my own craftsmanship. But who would have thought that in Lanyang Village, out of ten business deals, I got swindled nine times!" "Swindled nine times?" Li Banfeng was genuinely astonished. Given the pure and honest folk customs of Lanyang Village, they had only swindled him nine times? "Tell me in detail—how did they ever let you off that one time?" Wu Yongchao forced a smile. "Let's not talk about it; it's all in the past. Later, the dwelling spirit told me that place was unlivable. He said there was a great place where honest folk were never bullied—he had stayed there before and told me to check it out." "He was talking about Tiemenbao?" Wu Yongchao nodded. "The dwelling spirit was willing to go with me, but the house wouldn't let us leave. The two of us fought the house for a day and a night before finally escaping, nearly losing our lives in the process. The dwelling spirit treats me well—really well. When I came to Tiemenbao and settled down, the spirit guided my cultivation. He said Tiemenbao had changed and wasn't what it used to be, but it was still good enough to get by. He told me I had great talent, just too honest of a temperament. In a little over a decade since my initiation, he brought me all the way to the fourth tier." That was the unpredictable nature of Dwelling Cultivators. If you met a compatible dwelling spirit, your cultivation grew astonishingly fast; if you clashed, you might stall in the same place for decades. Old Lady Han was one example, and Old Man Hu was another. "In Tiemenbao, what is the highest tier of Dwelling Cultivator?" Without a second thought, Wu Yongchao replied, "Fourth tier. It can't go any higher. Any higher, and you can't stay in the fortress." "Who set that rule?" "It's Fort Lord Zhou's rule. He said Tiemenbao gives incompetent Dwelling Cultivators a bite to eat, while those with real capability should go out and make their own futures instead of loitering here for a lifetime." Absurd. Combat power above the fourth tier was extraordinarily valuable, yet this fort lord actually didn't want it. Perhaps exalted figures simply thought differently. "It's not easy for Dwelling Cultivators to relocate. If someone reaches the fifth tier, can he really be forced out?" Wu Yongchao shook his head. "No force is needed. Dwelling Cultivators have pride; we never like causing trouble for others. If someone tells us to leave, we leave. At worst, we fight our own house again. The year before last, Old Wang, who lived across the way, reached the fifth tier. The fort lord came in person to urge him to depart, and he agreed. He took his dwelling spirit and fought the house for three whole days, ultimately perishing inside. He once told me that rules are rules, and there was nothing to complain about." Li Banfeng understood. It wasn't that Dwelling Cultivators were universally unsuited for life in the outside world, but those who came here all sought refuge from outside turmoil. Their temperaments belonged to the remarkably innocent sort even among Dwelling Cultivators. Hard though life was here, it lacked many unnecessary disputes. While vendors squeezed these honest folk, it was still far better than the outside world where they would be bled dry down to the last copper. And this fort lord had read the minds of these Dwelling Cultivators like an open book! "Do you know what it's like atop that cliff?" Wu Yongchao shook his head. "Atop the cliff is just the mountaintop. What else could there be?" No wonder people said he had talent—he wasn't even familiar with Tiemenbao's surroundings. "Do you usually go outside?" "Do you mean out our front doors, or out the iron gate? We generally don't go out the iron gate..." According to Wu Yongchao's account, the other Dwelling Cultivators were mostly in the same boat: they rarely stepped outside, rarely moved about, barely communicated with one another, and kept their distance from the outside world as much as possible. Midway through the conversation, knocking sounded again. Bang! Bang! Bang! Wu Yongchao looked at Li Banfeng. Why look at me? I'm standing right in front of you—could it be me knocking? Wu Yongchao moved toward the door to check, but Li Banfeng stopped him. He signaled Wu Yongchao to remain silent. Bang! Bang! Bang! "Asleep yet? It's me, Ma Dingfu! I've come to talk about the money!" Wu Yongchao moved to open the door again, only to be stopped once more by Li Banfeng. Bang! Bang! Bang! "Are you dead asleep or what? Let me tell you, don't play dumb! You owe Old Hu a life! I'll come back for you tomorrow!" Ma Dingfu walked away. Wu Yongchao was overcome with shame. "This is my fault. It's all my fault. Even if I have to sell my house, I'll scrape together the money no matter what." Li Banfeng stared into Wu Yongchao's eyes. "Brother, this is not your fault. Not in the slightest. Remember this: from now on, unless you hear me calling at your door, you are not to leave this house. Not a single step!" There were things Li Banfeng had seen half of. The other half lay hidden behind a mask—and Li Banfeng intended to tear it away with his own hands!