"Fifth Master, the warehouse is on fire!"
Ma the Fifth had just returned from Heishipo and hadn't been asleep for even an hour before Zhen Jincheng shook him awake.
Throwing on his coat and crawling out of the covers, Ma the Fifth sighed in exasperation. "Those warehouses were useless anyway. I’ve been meaning to tear them down for ages, just never got around to it. And now look—trouble!"
Huo Ling rubbed her eyes. "It's just a fire, what's there to be afraid of? I'll help you put it out."
"Don't you go! You'll only make things worse!"
Ma the Fifth rushed to the warehouses and took charge of the firefighting efforts.
A great deal of old asphalt roofing felt had been piled inside those buildings, making the blaze particularly stubborn to extinguish. Everyone scurried about in chaotic motion. Ma the Fifth grew frantic, terrified the flames might spread to Xiaoyaowu itself. Just then, a middle-aged man walked up beside him and said, "Have Li Seven come find me at Yuelai Tower tomorrow night at seven. If he's late, your life is forfeit."
"Who the hell are you?" Stunned, Ma the Fifth whipped his head around, but the man had already vanished into thin air.
What did he mean by that?
With the blaze roaring ever fiercer, Ma the Fifth had no time to ponder the stranger's words and threw himself back into fighting the fire.
By daybreak, the flames were finally brought under control, though half the warehouse complex lay in charred ruins.
Utterly exhausted, Ma the Fifth collapsed into bed and drifted off.
Yet once he lay down, he couldn't get back up.
First came violent chills, causing him to curl into a shivering ball.
Then came a blazing fever, so searing that even Huo Ling found him scalding to the touch.
"He worked himself sick! Quick, get a doctor!"
***
Li Banfeng remained in the Portable Abode until noon.
Tu Yinghong had come here with an absolute determination to fight to the death.
Did she truly harbor such deep feelings for Ling Miaoying?
Or was there another reason beneath the surface?
He had won that battle entirely thanks to thorough preparation beforehand.
Yet after securing victory, Li Banfeng had once again sensed lingering danger.
Why would that be?
It meant Tu Yinghong had brought a helper.
If she had a helper, why hadn't they stepped in sooner?
Could this person pose a threat to Xiaoyaowu?
Although Xiaoyaowu had Zuo Wugang, Huo Ling, and numerous other experts watching over it, Li Banfeng still couldn't put his mind at ease. After hastily grabbing a bite to eat, he made his way back to Xiaoyaowu.
The moment he crossed the threshold, he saw Zuo Wugang in a frantic state, shouting orders in every direction.
"What happened?"
Zuo Wugang panicked upon seeing him. "Seventh Master, you're finally back! Fifth Master isn't going to make it!"
"What do you mean, not going to make it?"
"The warehouse caught fire last night. Fifth Master led the firefighting, and he must have exhausted himself. Once he collapsed in bed, he couldn't get up again!"
Li Banfeng hurried to Ma the Fifth's bedside.
Seeing Li Banfeng, Ma the Fifth's mind cleared a little.
He recalled the words the middle-aged man had spoken last night:
*Have Li Seven come find me at Yuelai Tower tomorrow night at seven. If he's late, your life is forfeit.*
"Old Seven..." Ma the Fifth gripped Li Banfeng's arm tightly. "I... last night, I..."
Wheezing for breath, Ma the Fifth choked back the rest of his words.
He couldn't say it.
That man wanted Old Seven to go to Yuelai Tower.
There was bound to be an ambush waiting there.
If Old Seven went, disaster would follow.
He couldn't let him go. Going meant death.
Ma the Fifth shook his head and shut his eyes.
Li Banfeng placed a hand on Ma the Fifth's forehead and yelled back at the crowd, "Where are the doctors? Go summon a doctor!"
Zuo Wugang said, "We've already called over a dozen doctors to examine him, but none of them could do a thing!"
"Then find renowned physicians! Fetch the best in the business!"
Zuo Wugang fell silent. The ones he had summoned were already renowned.
"Keep looking! Hurry, summon every doctor in the city!"
Cao Zhida trotted into the bedroom. "Seventh Master, there's a newly opened hospital in town. Rumor has it they've got real skill and specialize in rare, intractable ailments."
"Then what are you standing around for? Go get them!"
"I already went! That hospital puts on tremendous airs—they don't do house calls!"
Zuo Wugang said, "Ready a carriage. We'll take Fifth Master there ourselves."
"To hell with readying a carriage!"
Li Banfeng asked for the address, hoisted Ma the Fifth onto his back, and burst out of Xiaoyaowu.
Along the road, Ma the Fifth gasped weakly, "Old Seven, I'm a man who should've died long ago. I should've died back in Lanyang Village. Being able to live until today was all thanks to you. I've already broken even."
"What do you mean, broken even? We've barely gotten started!"
"Old Seven, put me down. This illness might be contagious."
"Cut the damn nonsense. Close your eyes and rest."
"Old Seven, everything we built... I leave it in your hands. You can't just wash your hands of it. It's the life's blood... of both of us..."
"We're at the hospital. We're almost there!"
Li Banfeng barged into the hospital. It bore an unusual name: Boundless.
The facility wasn't large, but it was crowded with patients. Li Banfeng carried Ma the Fifth and rushed toward the examination rooms, only for a nurse on duty to step forward and block his path. "What do you think you're doing? You have to register before seeing a doctor!"
"This is an emergency."
"Even emergencies have to register."
"Please, examine him first. I'll go register right now!"
The nurse glanced at Ma the Fifth. "Is this man even still breathing? Doesn't look like registering will be necessary."
Li Banfeng looked up at the nurse, his voice chilling. "What did you just say?"
The nurse began to tremble in terror just as a man walked up from behind.
Quickly retreating behind the man, the nurse pointed at Li Banfeng. "Director, this man is here to cause trouble."
The man addressed as the director wore a white surgical cap and mask, showing only his eyes.
Li Banfeng said, "You're the director? Please examine him first, and I'll go register right away."
"Li Seven?" The director pulled down his mask.
Li Banfeng was taken aback. He recognized this man.
"Critick? You're the director here?"
The foreigner, Critick—a Disease Cultivator.
They hadn't crossed paths since parting ways at Haichiling.
Critick nodded. "This is a hospital I founded. I have devoted my entire career to Puluo Province. I love Puluo Province."
Whether he loved Puluo Province or not, Li Banfeng couldn't say.
A Disease Cultivator opening a hospital sounded thoroughly absurd.
Could this hospital actually cure anyone?
Critick examined Ma the Fifth and immediately instructed the nurse to prepare the emergency room.
Li Banfeng carried Ma the Fifth inside. Critick said, "Please wait outside."
Li Banfeng promptly stepped out. The nurse was about to assist Critick by preparing the surgical instruments, but Critick spoke up: "You get out too."
"Me?"
"Get out!"
Keeping her head down, the nurse scurried out of the room, doing her best to steer clear of Li Banfeng as she slipped sheepishly down the corridor.
Only Ma the Fifth and Critick remained in the emergency room.
Critick stared at Ma the Fifth for a moment, then nodded. "The scent of a fellow disciple... truly distinctive."
***
Half an hour later, Critick stepped out of the emergency room and nodded toward Li Banfeng.
Li Banfeng went inside and found Ma the Fifth lying quietly on the bed. His fever had broken, his breathing was steady, and he was fast asleep.
Critick said, "Let your friend rest here for a while. He can be discharged tomorrow."
Li Banfeng never accepted favors for free. "What kind of compensation should I give you?"
Critick smiled. "Professionally speaking, this is a hospital, and healing the sick is my duty. Personally speaking, you helped me back at Haichiling, so helping you is only right."
Critick had Ma the Fifth moved to a ward, where Li Banfeng stayed by his side to watch over him.
Who had targeted Ma the Fifth?
Judging by the timing, it was undoubtedly connected to Tu Yinghong.
The culprit had inflicted an illness on Ma the Fifth that no ordinary doctor could treat, one that only Critick could remedy. It seemed the assailant was also a Disease Cultivator.
***
Wan Jinxian had reserved the entire Yuelai Tower, waiting for Li Seven to deliver himself into the trap.
By seven in the evening, Li Seven had not arrived. Wan Jinxian contacted his spy at Xiaoyaowu.
*He took Ma the Fifth to a hospital.*
What good would that do?
What hospital could possibly cure him?
Wan Jinxian waited another half an hour, but Li Seven was still nowhere to be seen.
Suspicion gnawing at him, he decided to check the hospital for himself.
Boundless Hospital—he had never heard of such a place before. Entering the lobby, Wan Jinxian asked the nurse on duty, "Which room is Ma Junyang in?"
The nurse looked at Wan Jinxian. "Why are you looking for Ma Junyang? Visiting hours are over."
Wan Jinxian adopted a gentle expression. "I am his uncle. I heard my nephew fell ill, so I hurried all the way from far away. Just let me have a quick look through the door."
"Can't you understand plain speech? Rules are rules. Stop making trouble and leave..." The nurse suddenly clutched her chest, finding herself completely unable to breathe.
Wan Jinxian smiled. "I will ask you one more time: which ward is Ma Junyang in?"
Tears streaming down her face, the nurse pointed toward Ward Six, pleading for mercy.
"Little girl, in your next life, learn how to speak properly to people."
The nurse clutched her throat, and within seconds, all breath left her body.
Wan Jinxian stepped into the corridor and made his way toward Ward Six.
The Thread-Hook Earring caught the sound of approaching footsteps, and Li Banfeng braced himself for battle.
Wan Jinxian had only taken two steps when a voice called out behind him: "What do you want with Ma Junyang?"
Turning around, Wan Jinxian saw a blond-haired, blue-eyed man standing not far away.
A foreigner?
Wan Jinxian said, "I have come to visit my nephew."
"Visiting hours are over. Come back tomorrow."
Wan Jinxian remained silent for a moment before breaking into a smile. "Why make things difficult? Today is a fine day, and I hadn't intended to kill so many people."
Critick walked up close to Wan Jinxian and asked gravely, "What do you mean by that?"
Wan Jinxian's eye twitched. Suddenly, Critick felt an intense tickle in his nose.
Pulling down his mask, his nose twitched as an overwhelming urge to sneeze welled up, impossible to suppress.
Wan Jinxian chuckled. "It's just a sneeze. No need to hold it in. Letting it out feels much better."
Critick drew in a sudden, deep breath. Wan Jinxian waited to watch his eyeballs burst from their sockets.
*Achoo!*
The sneeze erupted, yet Critick's eyeballs remained firmly in place.
Wan Jinxian froze. He reached up to touch his own cheek.
His face was covered in blood.
Not Critick's blood, but his own.
Critick's single sneeze had sliced a gash clean across Wan Jinxian's face.
Wan Jinxian stared at him in utter shock.
Critick stuck out his tongue. A glob of dark, sticky slime was squirming upon it.
"This was the pathogen you planted, wasn't it?" Critick swallowed the slimy mass whole. "Quite delicious. The last time I tasted something so flavorful was a year ago!"
"You are of our pathway? Impossible..." Wan Jinxian reeled in disbelief. Wiping some of the blood from his cheek, he flicked it onto Critick.
Could another Disease Cultivator truly be alive in this world?
Wan Jinxian suddenly remembered someone—the person who had poisoned He Jiaqing.
Back then, Wan Jinxian had suspected the deed was done by a fellow disciple, but even if one existed, how could it possibly be a foreigner?
Critick began to cough violently, infected once more by Wan Jinxian's pathogen.
Wan Jinxian moved to press his advantage, but Critick abruptly spat out a hardened glob of phlegm that struck Wan Jinxian's left shoulder.
The projectile pierced right through flesh and embedded itself firmly in the shoulder blade.
Clutching his shoulder, Wan Jinxian retreated several steps. Once again, he deployed a pathogen, plunging Critick into a raging fever.
Critick turned crimson, radiating heat like a red-hot branding iron.
This instead made it impossible for Wan Jinxian to close the distance.
Critick rubbed his chest and let out a burp.
A burst of flame erupted with the belch, instantly setting Wan Jinxian's clothes ablaze.
Wan Jinxian began to panic.
Their combat philosophies were completely incompatible; Critick's method of fighting made no sense to him.
Wan Jinxian's approach was to afflict his foe with debilitating ailments and then strike them down in their weakened state—the standard doctrine of a Disease Cultivator, precisely as his master had taught him.
Yet Critick weaponized his own afflictions.
Wan Jinxian no longer dared to act rashly. Every time he planted a pathogen in Critick, it seemed he was merely supplying the enemy with ammunition.
What other sickness could possibly restrain this man?
"What pathway do you actually belong to?" Wan Jinxian began preparing a lethal technique, which required a brief moment to charge.
Critick smiled faintly. "You still can't tell what pathway I practice? Senior Brother, I've made it as obvious as could be."
Wan Jinxian shook his head. "Our pathway has no fellow apprentices. Each generation is a sole successor. Without killing my own master, even I could never have completed my apprenticeship.
"Where did you spring from? You had better tell me the truth. This is Lüshui City, the territory of our Grandmaster. Impersonating a disciple of our pathway is an offense against the Grandmaster—cross that line, and you won't even leave behind an intact corpse!"
Critick shook his head. "I hold the utmost respect for Grandmaster. And that isn't just empty talk."
With that, Critick unbuttoned his shirt.
Tattooed across his chest were five large characters:
*I Love Grandmaster.*
*Now's my chance!*
Wan Jinxian lunged forward in an instant. His martial agility was superb, far superior to Critick's.
All he needed to do was slice Critick's flesh with his fingernails.
The moment blood was drawn, Critick would be infected with a pathogen that induced total paralysis, stripping him of all ability to move in an instant and delivering him straight to death.
This foreigner could not be allowed to live.
A Disease Cultivator could never tolerate a fellow practitioner.
Wan Jinxian's strike landed; his nails tore through Critick's skin.
The skin ruptured, but not a drop of blood emerged.
Instead, a spray of green pus splattered straight onto Wan Jinxian's face.
A prickling numbness crept across Wan Jinxian's skin as green blisters erupted across his face.
Critick looked at Wan Jinxian and spoke with utmost sincerity: "I love Grandmaster. Truly, from the bottom of my heart. What about you?"
Chapter 323