Common Script, Shared Rule; Words Become Truth

Pebbles the size of fingertips struck the backs of their heads. Ren Wenlie had been standing slightly off to the side, so he fared relatively well, ending up with only a swollen hematoma at the back of his head. Qu Jingzhang took several direct hits, cracking his skull. Both realized they had been ambushed. Qu Jingzhang hurriedly whipped around, while Ren Wenlie took to his heels and bolted. The difference in their reactions had nothing to do with cultivation; it came down primarily to experience. Qu Jingzhang had encountered journey cultivators before and knew better than to keep his back turned to Li Banfeng, which would mean certain death. Ren Wenlie had also encountered journey cultivators and likewise knew that turning one's back on Li Banfeng was suicidal, but his experience lay in dealing with Qu Jingzhang. He was intimately familiar with Qu Jingzhang's temper and knew for certain that Qu Jingzhang would turn around to fight for his life. Seeing Ren Wenlie flee, Qu Jingzhang panicked. He wanted to turn and run as well, yet dared not expose his back to Li Banfeng. Yet for a Virtue Cultivator to duel a journey cultivator one-on-one, the odds of winning were negligible. It was too late to run now anyway; Ren Wenlie was already far away, and this bearded man would surely strike whoever was closest. Paralyzed by indecision, Qu Jingzhang barely managed to parry two moves before making another foolish decision. He decided to reason with Li Banfeng. Had he relied purely on martial skill, he might have held out a little longer. But in such a dire spot, trying to rely on techniques was futile—how could Li Banfeng give him that chance? "Young man, listen to me—" *Spurt!* Qu Jingzhang's head tumbled to the ground. The Tang dao sneered, "Every strike claims a foe's head." With that, the Tang dao flew back to Li Banfeng's side. Li Banfeng overtook Ren Wenlie in two strides. Just as he was about to bring his blade down, he suddenly heard Ren Wenlie shout: "Do not press a cornered foe!" What did that mean? Lecturing me on morals again? Did you think a Virtue Cultivator shouting a couple of slogans could accomplish anything? I withstood your techniques just fine earlier. Why wouldn't I be able to withstand a single panicked phrase now? Li Banfeng swung his blade again, but though the slash whistled through the air, it failed to connect. Li Banfeng was startled, unsure whether something had gone wrong with the blade or with his hand. When he swung once more, he discovered that neither blade nor hand was at fault; the problem was with his feet. Li Banfeng's pace had slowed. Ever since hearing Ren Wenlie shout "Do not press a cornered foe," Li Banfeng's feet had involuntarily slowed to a crawl. This was not a moral inhibition, nor was it mental manipulation. It was an established fact—a fact formed in an instant. Li Banfeng's speed was restricted, and he could not catch up to Ren Wenlie. Ren Wenlie possessed an escape treasure. A whirlwind whipped up around his long robe, whisking him away into the forest until he vanished in the blink of an eye. Li Banfeng returned to the cave and pondered the battle just now. He was certain these two had been sent by the Sage, but their true identities required closer analysis. If they were the Sage's disciples, it proved that this Sage possessed genuine capability; any future clashes with him would demand constant vigilance. If they were assassins hired by the Sage, matters would be somewhat simpler to deal with. Yet based on Li Banfeng's experience, Virtue Cultivators rarely served as assassins, and the odds of two Virtue Cultivators teaming up as assassins were lower still; this pathway clearly wasn't suited for that trade. And that man who had fled just now—what technique had he used? A single shout of "Do not press a cornered foe," and Li Banfeng's pace had automatically slowed. That shouldn't be the method of a Virtue Cultivator; Li Banfeng hadn't felt the slightest twinge of guilt. He originally intended to return to the Portable Abode to consult the wife, but Xiao Yeci happened to have witnessed the clash, and she recognized the technique. "Benefactor, that man used a Literary Cultivator technique—Common Script, Shared Rule." "What tier is that?" "A tier-three technique, and one exceptionally difficult for Literary Cultivators to master. The cultivator speaks a phrase, and the opponent must understand it and perceive the reason within it. Then that phrase becomes a law, a binding constraint, a rule that both sides must abide by." "A tier-three Literary Cultivator technique?" Li Banfeng was taken aback. That old man was clearly a Virtue Cultivator, yet he actually knew a tier-three technique of a Literary Cultivator. Xiao Yeci had indeed heard of such practitioners. "Benefactor, as the saying goes, letters and virtue share a root. Cultivators who practice both the literary and virtue arts truly exist." A dual cultivator of related pathways. Judging from the strength of Emulating the Virtuous, that man's Virtue Cultivation had to be around the fifth tier, and his Literary Cultivation at least tier three. A person like that would be tricky to deal with. Li Banfeng asked Xiao Yeci, "Besides the tier-three technique, what other Literary Cultivator techniques do you know?" "There's also a tier-two technique, Words Become Truth. It can use something true to turn something false into the truth." Li Banfeng shook his head repeatedly. "Makes no sense to me." Xiao Yeci explained patiently, "It really is hard to grasp. I've only heard seniors mention a few examples. One example involved a Literary Cultivator fighting a Virtue Cultivator. The Virtue Cultivator was getting on in years and demanded that the Literary Cultivator yield three moves. "The Literary Cultivator acknowledged that the Virtue Cultivator was old, then recited an ancient poem: 'My white hair grows thirty thousand feet long.' As a result, a head of long hair sprouted on the Virtue Cultivator. Though it didn't stretch thirty thousand feet, it was still a good ten-odd meters long. "When they fought, the Virtue Cultivator was careless, tripped over his own hair, and was beaten to death by the Literary Cultivator. "Hair growing thirty thousand feet long was false, but that ancient poem truly existed. Using what is true to speak falsehood into reality is called Words Become Truth." This time, Li Banfeng understood. He had seen this technique before. Back when the Three Iron Poplar Heroes attacked Zhengjing Village, tier-six Literary Cultivator Du Shuping had used this technique. He had said, "I wore out iron shoes searching high and low," instantly shattering Zuo Wugang's shoes to pieces. Xiao Yeci continued, "The technique of Words Become Truth, while only a tier-two technique, is just as difficult to learn as tier-three—perhaps even harder. "Furthermore, invoking tier-two and tier-three techniques takes a heavy toll on one's cultivation. If the gap in cultivation is too wide, no matter how many clever phrases you utter, the technique won't work." Literary Cultivator techniques weren't easy to master, but once learned, they were formidable indeed! How many experts like this did that Sage have under his command? If all of them were used to refine pills... Thinking of refining pills, Li Banfeng took out a Golden Origin Pill and consumed it together with a Blue Leaf Pill. One Golden Origin Pill was equivalent to a hundred days of cultivation. Li Banfeng calculated the pills he had taken over this period; combined with the time accumulated from running all over the place, his journey cultivation might soon reach the fifth tier. Yet Li Banfeng still didn't know what the tier-five technique was. Who would know the tier-five technique of a journey cultivator? It seemed that person wasn't too far away. Once journey cultivation reached tier five, adding it together with his Dwelling Cultivation would make ten tiers. Would a ten-tier cultivation be enough to defeat that Sage? That Sage's disciples practiced both literary and virtue paths, so he was very likely a dual cultivator himself. If he added his cultivation tiers together as well, he would most likely surpass me. With such formidable strength, why hadn't he moved against me yet? He didn't want to bully the small? Nonsense—preying on the weak was the supreme survival rule of big shots. Was he bound by some rule that prevented him from striking down ordinary folk? Like figures of the insect chief's sort: back when he acted against the commoners of Haichiling, the peddler took him out directly. That was a possibility, but the nature of the two situations was different. Back then, the insect chief had killed tens of thousands of Haichiling commoners, so naturally the peddler showed him no mercy. However, if this Sage only took out Li Banfeng alone, the peddler most likely wouldn't intervene; one couldn't manage every petty affair. Besides that, what other reason could there be? Unable to puzzle it out for the moment, Li Banfeng hauled Qu Jingzhang's corpse back to refine into pills. ... Ren Wenlie returned to the Peak of the Sages to report back, describing the battle that had unfolded at Benefactor Stockade from beginning to end. What he said was mostly true, though he exaggerated certain details. After all, Qu Jingzhang had lost his life while he alone returned; if there were no unforeseen factors, it would only prove that they hadn't put in their utmost effort. The Sage still stayed in the inner room. The gasps from inside rose in wave after wave, unending. Once his breathing settled slightly, the Sage asked, "You say you didn't know he was a journey cultivator, which is why you suffered at his hands? Now that you know he is a journey cultivator, sorting him out shouldn't present any difficulty, right?" "There would still be some difficulty..." Sweat beaded on Ren Wenlie's forehead. He had no desire to face this senior brother of the peddler again. The Sage sneered, "After all that talk, it simply comes down to your skills falling short of his. I knew it—this man's background is not so simple." Ren Wenlie wiped his sweat and said, "Then perhaps let the other senior brothers..." His implication was that he was useless, suggesting his master send someone else. The Sage concurred with his thought. "Let your Eldest Senior Brother go. Shixiang is getting on in years; you must accompany him." "Eldest Senior Brother... he..." "Heh heh," the Sage chuckled. "What, do you look down on your Eldest Senior Brother? He raised you brats bit by bit. Have you forgotten such kindness?" A surge of guilt washed over Ren Wenlie. Daring not say another word, he hurried to the summit of the Peak of the Sages to summon his Eldest Senior Brother. Eldest Senior Brother lived alone, attended by neither maid nor servant. Ren Wenlie knocked on the door for a long time without receiving an answer, so he simply pushed the door open and went inside. No one was in the front courtyard, so Ren Wenlie entered the main courtyard. There was no one in the main courtyard, nor in the rear courtyard. Ren Wenlie finally located his Eldest Senior Brother, Cong Shixiang, in the eastern side-courtyard. Cong Shixiang, his body bloated and swollen, was catching insects beneath the sun. Holding a small knife, he sliced open a gash on his arm. Parting the layers of aged flesh, Cong Shixiang rummaged for a moment in the deep fat beneath the skin, then pulled out a maggot roughly the size of a little finger. This maggot possessed a slender, rat-like tail, its body slicked with a coat of murky yellow grease. Cong Shixiang tossed the maggot into the fire before him. The creature squirmed for a while, its grease emitting puffs of white smoke. Suddenly feeling another itch, Cong Shixiang reached the knife behind his ear. Ren Wenlie stepped forward and said, "Senior Brother, I'll catch the bugs for you. Give me the knife first, so you don't cut off your own ear." "Mmh, mmh..." Cong Shixiang squeezed two sounds from his throat, then handed the knife over to Ren Wenlie. The metallic tang of the blade, the rancid stench of fat, and the peculiar foulness unique to the maggots blended into a distinctive odor. Suppressing his nausea at the stench, Ren Wenlie cut into Cong Shixiang's flesh slice by slice, digging out the maggots one after another. He couldn't dig out too many; too many wounds on Cong Shixiang's body would compromise his fighting prowess. Once the maggots in the fire were about medium-done, Cong Shixiang fished one out and handed it to Ren Wenlie. Ren Wenlie waved his hand. "Senior Brother, you eat." Cong Shixiang stuffed the plump grub into his mouth. Lacking teeth, he held it in his mouth and sucked on it for quite a while, savoring the flavor to his heart's content, before craning his neck and swallowing it down. Beneath his throat was a gaping hole; Ren Wenlie clearly saw the grub slide down through it. Cong Shixiang ate with immense satisfaction; he relished this flavor. Having devoured all the grubs, Cong Shixiang rose from the fire, his withered eyes fixed intently on Ren Wenlie. Ren Wenlie took two steps back, keeping as much distance from Cong Shixiang as possible. "Senior Brother, let's head down the mountain. Master has an errand for us to run." "Heh, heh heh..." Cong Shixiang gave two guttural chuckles and followed Ren Wenlie out of the compound.