Cong Shixiang had ingested the rust pill, yet not only was he completely unharmed, he could also corrode weapons.
Amidst his shock, Li Banfeng wasted no time overthinking. He struck a match and hurled it straight at Cong Shixiang.
Liquor mist hung thick in the air. The moment the spark hit, Cong Shixiang burst into flames, the grease on his body sizzling and smoking.
He did not dodge, nor did he struggle, showing no urgency even to put out the fire.
He ripped several chunks of charred flesh from his body and swallowed them down whole along with the licking flames.
Judging by his expression, Cong Shixiang found the flavor quite satisfactory. He drew a deep breath, inhaling all the fire on his body and the surrounding liquor mist into his mouth, before spewing it right back at Li Banfeng.
Dodging the fireball was easy enough, but Li Banfeng dared not close the distance again.
He had no idea what else Cong Shixiang might vomit up, nor what else the man might devour.
Cong Shixiang charged at Li Banfeng once more. Keeping a distance of ten meters, Li Banfeng maneuvered around him. Ren Wenlie shouted, "You are a strapping young lad in your prime—do you lack the spine to face an octogenarian head-on?"
A pang of guilt struck Li Banfeng.
Caught in that momentary lapse, Li Banfeng found his path blocked by Cong Shixiang.
Cong Shixiang bellowed, "When narrow paths meet, the brave—"
It was the technique Common Script, Shared Rule. If he finished the sentence, Li Banfeng would be compelled to clash with him in a brute-force showdown.
In a head-on collision, Li Banfeng would not last a single round. Not only would he lose his life, but his corpse would end up in Cong Shixiang's stomach.
Fortunately, Li Banfeng was on guard. He abruptly burst into song: "The moon is bright, the wind is still, leaves shade the window lattices..."
In his desperation, that was the only tune that came to mind—a lullaby.
Yet this song packed tremendous power. For one, Li Banfeng knew the terrain intimately; for another, he had just stepped out of his abode in peak physical condition, allowing him to execute the Sprawling Compound technique to perfection.
The moment the singing rang out, Ren Wenlie was overwhelmed by drowsiness and nearly dozed off on his feet. The Literary Cultivator technique Common Script, Shared Rule failed to manifest, and the Virtue Cultivator technique Emulating the Virtuous was scattered as well.
Dealing with Ren Wenlie was simple enough, but Cong Shixiang was far harder to handle.
Li Banfeng's singing had zero effect on him. Facing an overwhelming gap in raw combat power, Li Banfeng was forced to retreat into the mountain stronghold. Cong Shixiang kicked the stronghold gate into splinters and cornered Li Banfeng against the wall of a wooden cabin in two strides.
The Fool Cultivator technique was useless, and the Sprawling Compound technique had failed. What in the world could counter him?
Seizing the momentum, Li Banfeng leaped onto the roof. Cong Shixiang moved to pursue, but his foot slipped, and he tumbled to the ground.
Tea had suddenly welled up beneath his feet. Scrambling up from the ground, Cong Shixiang discovered the flesh on his hands and feet was rapidly peeling away in the tea. Standing atop the roof, Li Banfeng rubbed the old teapot continuously with both hands.
Cong Shixiang felt an intense revulsion toward the tea, as the fat on his body sloughed off endlessly within the liquid.
Li Banfeng worried he might ram straight through the cabin, which would leave Li Banfeng without a perch.
Yet Cong Shixiang paid no heed to the cabin. His sole desire was to break free of the tea's pool, and he slammed his body against the invisible barrier.
*Bang!*
The old teapot shuddered in Li Banfeng's hands.
The last time it had shuddered like this was when facing Qiu Luoye. Li Banfeng asked, "Is his strength on par with Qiu Luoye's?"
The old teapot coughed twice. "He's slightly weaker. I reckon I can still take three to five blows. Young man, this monster is short on wits—you can only outsmart him, not overpower him."
This Eldest Senior Brother indeed lacked intelligence. Had he possessed the intellect of an ordinary person, Li Banfeng would have been dead long ago.
*Bang! Bang!*
Cong Shixiang unleashed a barrage of kicks and punches against the barrier. Li Banfeng hurriedly canceled the teapot's technique.
Earlier, the tea had only reached his knees, yet Cong Shixiang's trousers had visibly loosened, suggesting he had lost a substantial amount of flesh and blood.
Now that the tea had receded, Cong Shixiang's footsteps grew sluggish, his movements turned clumsy, and his resilience dropped considerably. Slashing and burning, Li Banfeng tore away chunks of flesh from his frame. Cong Shixiang staggered on his feet; the battle seemed close to an end.
Tottering unsteadily, Cong Shixiang suddenly lunged toward an ox tied near the stronghold entrance.
It was the ox Niu Guangda had left behind. Opening his maw, Cong Shixiang shoved the entire ox head into his mouth.
Impossible!
An ox head was far larger than Cong Shixiang's head, not to mention the protruding horns. How could he fit it into his mouth?
There was no time to ponder that now. Li Banfeng dashed behind Cong Shixiang and stomped down with Treading Ten Thousand Rivers, shattering the stones beneath his feet. Flying rock fragments embedded themselves into the back of Cong Shixiang's skull and torso, seemingly inflicting some damage.
Cong Shixiang ignored the strikes completely, devouring the ox's carcass at frightening speed.
Li Banfeng got a clear look now: before entering his mouth, the ox's body was compressed into a compact ball of meat.
Cong Shixiang's mouth opened to a grotesque degree, the skin of his face stretching several feet downward until his lower jaw reached his navel.
Li Banfeng swung his sickle, slamming the blade into Cong Shixiang's skull.
A pair of horns sprouted from Cong Shixiang's head, clamping onto Li Banfeng's sickle.
Swinging around like a beast kicking its hooves, he sent Li Banfeng flying a dozen meters away.
Eating an ox turned him into an ox.
Fortunately, he had not fully recovered, so the kick lacked full force. Scrambling to his feet, Li Banfeng saw that Cong Shixiang had already devoured the ox down to the last scrap.
Still unsatisfied, he turned his gaze toward Ren Wenlie.
With absolute composure, Ren Wenlie grabbed his junior brother Jiang Shirong and threw him straight at Cong Shixiang.
Cong Shixiang grabbed Jiang Shirong's head with one hand and his feet with the other. With a vicious twist, he wrung the man into a spiral braid, rolled him into a ball of meat, compressed it thoroughly, and shoved it into his mouth.
*This* was the very reason Ren Wenlie had brought his junior brothers along.
Seeing this, the remaining two junior brothers turned on their heels to flee. Ren Wenlie snapped furiously, "Facing the enemy on the battlefield, those who fear shall die!"
Common Script, Shared Rule.
The two junior brothers froze, terrified to take another step. Fleeing now would mean certain death.
Having devoured an ox and a man, Cong Shixiang was back in peak form. Raising two sharp horns, he charged toward Li Banfeng.
At this juncture, Li Banfeng had only one choice left.
He shouted for the stronghold's folk to clear a path, luring Cong Shixiang all the way into the mountain cave.
The cave floor was wet and slick, slowing Cong Shixiang slightly and buying Li Banfeng enough time to draw his key.
He unlocked the Portable Abode, and the moment he tossed the key out, Cong Shixiang crashed straight into the room.
"You slut, speak! How did you seduce my husband just now? How did you—"
*Crash!*
Li Banfeng was knocked off balance by Cong Shixiang's impact and tumbled into the corner.
The gramophone huffed, "Husband, why did you drag an ox back home?"
Cong Shixiang lunged at Li Banfeng again, but the gramophone spewed a thick plume of steam, trapping him in place.
"Aiya, this old ox is remarkably strong!" Keeping time with rhythmic clatter, the gramophone broke into the Peking Opera piece *The Little Cowherd*: "*A sunny sky in the third month fair, herding the cattle by the village there; wild flowers bloom in scarlet red, mountain grass green where the herd is fed...*"
*Hiss—*
The wife's singing was ineffective.
Cong Shixiang let out a rasping howl, nearly tearing free of the steam's bind.
The wife gasped, "A broken-cocoon pupa?"
What was a broken-cocoon pupa?
The wife offered no explanation, her movements suddenly turning hesitant. "Could this broken-cocoon pupa be..."
Hong Ying chimed in abruptly, "Hurry, fetch that slut Xuansheng Red Lotus! This is right up her alley!"
Li Banfeng bolted to retrieve the Red Lotus. Over the past two days, aside from refining Qu Jingzhang, the Red Lotus had served no purpose, so Li Banfeng had moved it back into Room Six.
As he dashed toward Room Six, Cong Shixiang broke free of the steam and charged the gramophone.
Had this been the gramophone from when she first arrived, she might not have withstood such a strike.
Now, however, she was entirely different. A vinyl record whistled through the air, shearing through both of Cong Shixiang's legs below the knees.
Cong Shixiang collapsed, then dragged himself toward the gramophone on his belly.
Another record swept past, severing both of his palms.
Bereft of hands and feet, Cong Shixiang squirmed forward with astonishing speed, closing in on the gramophone. Clamping his toothless mouth onto the wooden casing, he bit down hard.
"Disgusting!" Repulsed, the gramophone severed Cong Shixiang's head in one clean slice.
Reduced to a lone head, Cong Shixiang stopped gnawing on the cabinet. Turning around, he devoured his own torso, hands, and feet.
Once he had swallowed them all, his head swelled rapidly, and a massive fleshy sphere bulged out beneath it.
A head connected to a round ball of meat, rocking back and forth like a roly-poly tumbler doll. At the stumps of his four limbs, tiny fleshy buds had already begun to sprout.
Given thirty to fifty seconds, limbs would emerge; given three to five minutes, he would completely regain human form.
Unfortunately, he had no time left.
The wife could have minced him into paste, but she held back.
Li Banfeng carried the Red Lotus into the room.
Drenched in dewdrops, the Red Lotus had been preparing to pick an argument with Li Banfeng.
Upon spotting Cong Shixiang, its mood brightened considerably, and even more dewdrops condensed over its petals.
*Hiss—*
The petals unfurled, and a vortex whipped up from the lotus heart, seizing the regenerating Cong Shixiang and slowly drawing him inward.
Cong Shixiang struggled to break free, but within the vortex, his strength seemed bound by an invisible restraint.
"Hrrgh... aah!"
He cried out repeatedly. As he drew near the lotus heart, his body began to distort and compress, mirroring the way he had swallowed the ox.
The Red Lotus redoubled its pull, intensifying the vortex, while the wife added a gust of steam to shove Cong Shixiang forward until he was swallowed entirely into the center of the bloom.
This was the first time Li Banfeng had seen the Red Lotus hunt on its own initiative. Previously, it had never touched living beings.
Wait, something was amiss.
"Wife, the Red Lotus never consumes the living. Why the sudden change of heart?"
*Chuff, chuff—*
"Aiya, husband, this broken-cocoon pupa isn't a living creature."
"What exactly is a broken-cocoon pupa?"
"When ascending from Tier Nine to Tier Ten, the process only half succeeded. The physical body ascended, but the soul failed to follow and shattered to pieces, leaving behind a walking corpse. Just like an insect that breaks out of its cocoon without turning into a butterfly, remaining a pupa instead. That is why it is called a broken-cocoon pupa."
Tier Nine to Tier Ten?
Thank goodness the creature was a dullard.
Then again, having lost its soul, it was bound to lack intelligence.
*Hiss—*
The Red Lotus folded its petals shut.
With Ren Wenlie still outside, Li Banfeng did not linger and promptly departed the Portable Abode.
*Chuff, chuff—*
The wife swung her brass horn toward Hong Ying. "You slut, who asked for your help?"
At that crucial juncture, Hong Ying's reminder to bring the Red Lotus had indeed lent the gramophone a hand.
Hong Ying sneered, "Wicked woman, I only worried that if that madman caused a disaster, all of us would be trapped here to die. You haven't fought in so many years—your battle tactics are a far cry from what they used to be."
"Slut, whatever tactics I use, it's not your place to lecture me!"
...
Ren Wenlie stood at the stronghold gate, awaiting word from his Eldest Senior Brother.
His two junior brothers, Pei Maojin and Gao Yangting, remained at his side, offering suggestions.
"Senior Brother, let's head in and take a look. I'm worried Eldest Senior Brother might run into trouble."
Eldest Senior Brother had just devoured one of their fellow disciples—Jiang Shirong, who had entered the sect alongside them—yet Pei Maojin was actually fretting over his well-being.
"Senior Brother Ren, we can't leave Eldest Senior Brother to fight alone. Let's go in and back him up."
Gao Yangting showed no hesitation either. It was impossible to tell whether this was the effect of Ren Wenlie's Virtue Cultivator techniques or their genuine feelings.
After pondering for a good while, Ren Wenlie decided to go in and check.
Of course, he had no intention of taking the lead; he would let his two junior brothers spearhead the advance.
Pei Maojin and Gao Yangting indeed marched ahead, adopting the haughty demeanor befitting disciples of a Sage as they shouted all the way in: "You motley rabble, committing every manner of depravity and crime! Now that your ringleader has been brought to justice, do you still dare put up stubborn resistance?"
Xiao Yeci stepped forward to bar the path, declaring, "When dragons and tigers clash, how can crabs, fish, and turtles meddle?"
Ren Wenlie paused, startled. The haughty tone sounded like that of a Literary Cultivator. Was she using the technique Common Script, Shared Rule?
Xiao Yeci gritted her teeth in secret. She did not know Common Script, Shared Rule, but in this situation, she could not yield a single step.
Just as Ren Wenlie was hesitating over whether to engage this woman, Li Banfeng's voice sounded from behind him: "Don't fight her. She's an eighth-tier Literary Cultivator. You'd better fight me instead."
Ren Wenlie's heart leaped into his throat, leaving him torn between advancing and retreating.
If he moved forward, he would have to confront Xiao Yeci head-on while exposing his back to Li Banfeng.
If he turned back to face Li Banfeng directly, would exposing his back to Xiao Yeci be any safer?
Li Banfeng offered another word of advice: "If you can't figure out which way to go, standing right where you are without moving is your best option."
For a fleeting instant, Ren Wenlie truly believed that staying perfectly still was the right choice.
Lowering his weapon, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "One does not kill the unarm—"
Before the word "ed" could escape his mouth, a surge of fresh blood choked off his voice. Li Banfeng had already slit his throat.
Chapter 246