Bronze Lotus, What Are You Doing?

At dusk, the people from the medicine house departed the clearing and headed toward their next destination. Their departure proved that the snake-spot chrysanthemums in this area were essentially picked clean. Lao Yanpao took a pull on his pipe stem, puffed out a cloud of smoke, and continued trailing behind the medicine house crew. The group trekked for over an hour before the medicine house scouts led them to a second prime spot. It was a rather sparse grove of trees, more remote, with noticeably more blossoms. Yet despite the abundance of flowers, everyone’s efficiency dropped. The vapors of Bitter Mist Mountain were eroding each of them. Including the medicine house workers, everyone grew weak and sluggish. Xiaopang was affected the least, while Li Banfeng suffered the most; his hands and feet felt numb, and his vision blurred in waves. Come nightfall, the fog grew thicker, making their situation all the more precarious. Youtao had a pocket watch. Checking the time, it was already past nine o'clock, and she could barely hold out. "Why don't we pull out? Coming here has already been worth our while." Youtao had gathered thirty-five stalks of snake-spot chrysanthemums in total, which would fetch 2,975 yuan—certainly enough to break even and then some. Li Banfeng had gathered two more than Youtao, close to his expectations, and he felt that staying on the mountain any longer would put his life in jeopardy. Xiaopang refused to leave. He had picked the fewest flowers—only sixteen stalks—which, at the rate offered by the medicine houses, would bring in a little over 1,300 yuan. Subtracting the expenses of this journey, would he make a profit? He would, but barely. Xiaopang was not content with that. The snake-spot chrysanthemums in this second location were visibly easier to spot than in the first. Moreover, Xiaopang’s physical condition was clearly better than the others'. By his own estimate, holding out until dawn would be no problem at all. This was prime time to catch up and reap a greater harvest. Since he would not budge, the young girl Caoye refused to leave as well. Sustained by various medicinal candies, she had not yet suffered any serious symptoms. Lao Yanpao smoked two more bowls of tobacco, saying that as long as he had something to smoke, he could hold on. With none of them leaving, Youtao stayed put too, reluctant to cut her gains short. Seeing that the pair of peaches swaying beneath her waist could hardly muster another step, Li Banfeng truly wanted to talk some sense into her. Yet he lacked the strength to speak. In his dizzy state, saying a few more words might cause him to vomit on the spot. Besides, he and Miss Youtao were mere chance acquaintances; his real concern was Xiaopang. Since Xiaopang stubbornly refused to go, Li Banfeng could only head down the mountain alone. Before he left, Caoye stepped forward to offer a word of caution: "Brother Baisha, if you really are a Joy Cultivator, you need to rest for at least half a month when you get back. Joy Cultivators have weak constitutions and suffer the worst harm from this poisonous mist. If you're from another pathway, you'll need three to five days of rest at the very least. If you're a Dwelling Cultivator, just pretend I never said anything." Li Banfeng was listening intently when Youtao chimed in from the side, "Little sister, what's so special about Dwelling Cultivators?" Caoye's eyes widened. "Sister, could you be a Dwelling Cultivator?" Youtao smiled. "I was just asking casually." Caoye lowered her voice. "Even a Dwelling Cultivator without a dwelling spirit can neutralize the poison simply by sleeping seven or eight hours back in their dwelling. If they have a dwelling spirit, it doesn't even take that long. That is the special trait of a Dwelling Cultivator. As long as they can return to their dwelling, they have nothing to fear." Youtao let out a soft sigh. "If only I were a Dwelling Cultivator." Caoye shook her head. "Sister, Dwelling Cultivators don't usually travel outside so easily. Could you really be..." As she spoke, Caoye kept her eyes on Youtao, seemingly fascinated by her pathway. Youtao patted Caoye’s cheek. "Once this business is done, why don't you come over to my place for a visit? Then you'll know whether I'm a Dwelling Cultivator or not." Li Banfeng had no patience to waste time chatting. He leaned in and whispered in Xiaopang’s ear: "Stay right here and pick. Don't go switching locations. Harvest a few more, then get down the mountain immediately!" Xiaopang gave a casual nod of agreement. He had no intention of changing locations; there were indeed plenty of blossoms here. Leaving early, however, was out of the question. Xiaopang intended to tough it out until morning. Gold-Rimmed Glasses had mentioned that while the exact blooming hour varied, the snake-spot chrysanthemum was guaranteed to stay in bloom for a full day and night. Having blossomed after seven this morning, they would not wither until seven tomorrow morning. Over the course of the night, he could surely gather another twenty. Going down the mountain at daybreak would bring nothing worse than vomiting and diarrhea—a few days of discomfort at most. A couple of hearty meals would make up for it. Seeing Xiaopang engrossed in picking flowers, Li Banfeng walked out of the woods, concealed his key in a secluded spot along the mountain path, and slipped into his Portable Abode. He had not actually gone down the mountain. Caoye's remarks had sparked an idea. He chose to recover inside his own dwelling first. Only after he was mostly back to normal would he make the descent; otherwise, he might well run into trouble on the road. There was something off about this trip—something very wrong. He did not trust Gold-Rimmed Glasses, even though most of the man's actions appeared reasonable. The others' behavior had been reasonable too. For a group of strangers to watch each other's backs within sensible limits was a sound decision. Only one thing failed to make sense. They had been attacked three times in a row by the exact same man. On Bitter Mist Mountain, everyone was after snake-spot chrysanthemums, so getting ambushed and robbed was entirely within expectations. Yet being targeted three times by the very same person was far from reasonable. Running into the bald man along the road the first time could be chalked up to chance. What about running into him on the mountain trail the second time? Coincidence? Then how could the third attempt to steal their flowers be explained? To call it a coincidence once more simply defied belief. That bald man had to be tailing their group. But how was he keeping track of them? Visibility on Bitter Mist Mountain was abysmal, making trailing anyone an exceptionally difficult task. Without Lao Yanpao, their group wouldn't have even been able to follow the medicine house workers. Yet that bald man had managed to shadow them the entire way. Could there be a cultivator among them who specialized in tracking? Or had someone been leaving markers for him? Li Banfeng untied his cloth sack, tossed it aside, and lay flat on the floor, trying to review the entire sequence of events. But the searing pain wracking his body made it impossible to concentrate. It hurt too much. The mist on Bitter Mist Mountain was truly deadly. Accompanied by a wave of sickening dizziness, the agony made Li Banfeng want to throw up. No, he couldn't vomit inside the Portable Abode—at least not onto the floor. This room lacked ventilation. If he vomited on the floor, who knew how long it would take for the stench to dissipate. Yet he could not hold it in any longer! Li Banfeng yanked open the cloth sack, dumped out the snake-spot chrysanthemums, and retched into the bag until he had emptied every drop of yellow bile from his stomach. Once he was thoroughly emptied out, Li Banfeng felt somewhat better. He tied the cloth sack tight, flung it aside, collapsed onto the floor, and sank into a heavy slumber. After an unknown stretch of sleep, Li Banfeng was abruptly startled awake by an unfamiliar smell. Inside the Portable Abode, there should have been no scent other than dust. Could it be the scent of snake-spot chrysanthemums? Back on Bitter Mist Mountain, he had not noticed any particular fragrance coming from the flowers. The mountain mist had been choking, likely masking the flowers' scent. Now, safely inside the Portable Abode with no other odors to interfere, the scent of the chrysanthemums had become noticeable. It had to be the snake-spot chrysanthemums, for Li Banfeng detected a distinct floral fragrance. He almost forgot—Caoye had warned that this flower was toxic! Consuming a single stalk was fatal! Could the floral fragrance be poisonous as well? Alarmed, Li Banfeng scrambled to his feet. The snake-spot chrysanthemums had been strewn haphazardly across the floor. He needed to find a safe place to put them away at once. He struck a match and lit a candle. Remarkably enough, after that nap, the aches in his body had vanished and his dizziness was gone. He felt almost completely restored. Yet in the very next instant, his scalp began to prickle, as though electric currents were rippling from his forehead straight to the back of his skull. Where were his snake-spot chrysanthemums? Where were the thirty-seven stalks he had gathered with such painstaking effort? How could not a single one remain? Losing the flowers and losing the money was not even the most pressing issue. He was the only person who could enter the Portable Abode. Who on earth could have stolen the flowers? Could he have sleepwalked and eaten them himself while asleep?! This stuff wasn't meant to be eaten! Li Banfeng searched all around, yet could not find so much as a stray petal. The candle cast only a modest circle of light. Not watching his step, Li Banfeng tripped over something and stumbled, nearly falling flat on his face. Holding up the candle, he looked back and found the bronze lotus on the floor. Wait, was this the bronze lotus? The bronze lotus had always rested on the floor, its position unchanged, yet its state was entirely different. The flower had bloomed. Li Banfeng saw the center of the blossom, revealing a lotus seedpod. Inside the pod sat a single lotus seed—a fully ripened seed. Moving with great care, Li Banfeng peeled the seed free. The lotus snapped shut instantly, nearly pinching his fingers. The emerald-green lotus seed trembled faintly in the palm of his hand. Li Banfeng had no idea where this seed had come from or what ought to be done with it. All at once, the lotus seed began to swell, expanding until it reached the size of a fist, before bursting apart with a loud pop! Li Banfeng flinched and jerked his hand back. From the exploded seed fell eight beads, each roughly the size of a pinky fingernail. Li Banfeng picked up one of the beads and inspected it: a white base with black speckles, looking as though it were inlaid with some sort of scales. What in the world was this?