Just Business, Not Friends

Just like that, the two Judge's Brushes were taken in by the Portable Abode. The glove sighed in admiration. "When it comes to moving fast, nobody beats our Old Master!" Li Banfeng barked angrily, "Old fellow, I brought those back! You just took them without a word—at least tell me what they're for!" The Portable Abode chuckled. "Those are train rails. Keeping them does you no good, but to me, they're of tremendous use." Rails! Rails worth an entire Paramount! No wonder they were the Chu family's prized heirloom. Li Banfeng patted the glove and smiled. "You performed a great service this time. There will be a hefty reward." The glove stood upright on the floor, raised its index finger, and bobbed its hand side to side. "Doing work for Master is merely my duty. Mentioning rewards is truly treating me like an outsider, Master." Xie Juncong was the master of the Ghost Hand Sect, an ancestor-level thief in the truest sense. To steal something right out of his hands without him noticing—the glove's ability genuinely astonished Li Banfeng. Yet he couldn't let his astonishment show. Keeping his expression calm, Li Banfeng knew that now that six rails had been absorbed, there were matters he needed to clarify with the Portable Abode. "Old Master, back at the start when you'd absorbed only two rails, you could leave the key and move around on your own. Now that you have six, do you have even more tricks up your sleeve?" The Portable Abode gave a cough. "That isn't called wandering around on a whim. That's following you. I can only follow you, or follow the key—that rule cannot be broken. Back then there were two rails, and now there are six. Naturally, there have been changes. Now, we can move from the concrete to the ethereal." Li Banfeng shook his head. "We're all on the same side here—cut the fancy jargon." The Portable Abode said, "To put it simply, it's vagueness. Some places that are vague, I can go to now as well. When there were two rails, I could only go to places you could see with your own eyes. Heishipo was an example." Li Banfeng had stared at the photograph of Heishipo back then, and in the blink of an eye, he was transported to the photography studio of the Night Fragrance newspaper office in Heishipo. The glove let out a cold laugh. Li Banfeng asked again, "And after four rails?" The Portable Abode said, "With four rails, you no longer needed to see the place with complete clarity. Seeing a similar location and deducing it was enough." In Yaowanggou, the Portable Abode had unleashed No Ground Unclaimed and forcefully broken the Mourning Array. Beforehand, Li Banfeng had only found a single trace of blood; all subsequent bloodstains were located based on his deductions. Li Banfeng asked, "Now with six rails, just how vague can it get?" The Portable Abode replied, "There might be places you've never seen, but as long as I have been there, can still remember it, the distance isn't too far, and you can describe it clearly, we can go." "Doesn't that mean that anywhere I can clearly describe, as long as it's not too far, you can take us there?" "As long as it's a place this old master remembers." Li Banfeng grew excited. "Where have you been before?" "Too many places! I've been to practically every corner of Puluo Province!" "And which places do you remember?" "Pretty much none of them." Li Banfeng's excitement deflated. "Old Master, are you pulling my leg? A train that doesn't remember the places it traveled to?" "A train doesn't need to remember too many places—remembering the stations is enough. You've only built one station, and this old master remembers that one perfectly well." Li Banfeng was struck speechless. The glove scoffed, "There wasn't a station by the oil lake either, yet didn't you still go there just to steal oil? In the end, it just comes down to whether our Old Master feels like remembering or not!" The Portable Abode flew into a rage. "This old master went to the oil lake because Old Seven saw it in his dream!" Li Banfeng asked, "Then what was the deal with the oil lake?" The Portable Abode said, "Things seen in dreams count too." The glove snorted. "The old man just wanted to steal oil, using Master's dream as a convenient excuse for his own selfish—" "Shut up!" the Portable Abode bellowed. "This old master is nothing like you!" It was a bit convoluted, but Li Banfeng understood. In other words, with an extra pair of rails, the Portable Abode could handle destinations with a degree of vagueness. The more rails it had, the greater the degree of vagueness it could tolerate, and the more intelligent the Portable Abode became. Li Banfeng didn't dwell on the matter. The Portable Abode had sentience, so it was only natural for it to have its own agenda. Although Li Banfeng had run into some danger with Lian Buda when they went to the oil lake, the subsequent execution of No Ground Unclaimed had relied entirely on the fuel the Portable Abode had stockpiled. This also served as a reminder. He checked the fuel stored in Room Three; only five barrels remained, which was indeed running low. "Should we pay Lian Buda another visit and get some more fuel?" On this point, the Portable Abode agreed. "This old master has known Lian Buda for many years. Due to certain circumstances, it's rather inconvenient for me to see him right now. You can go engage him in small talk on my behalf." Li Banfeng was somewhat puzzled. "Talk about what?" "Just chat about whatever." Li Banfeng was still confused. Beside him, the glove piped up, "Master, what the Old Master means is for you to stall Lian Buda so he can keep stealing oil." The Portable Abode raged, "This old master is not that kind of person!" The glove burst into loud laughter. "Oh, the Old Master is truly a paragon of virtue!" *Whoosh!* A jar flew across the room and slammed down right onto the glove, cutting off the laughter instantly. Li Banfeng pondered for a moment and gave a slight shake of his head. Have me stall Lian Buda? Was Lian Buda someone easy to stall? Better leave that until after dealing with the Garrison Commissioner. *** He Jiaqing had just finished attending an anime convention and still had a fox tail tucked into his hair. A button on his chest began to vibrate. Gripping the button, he heard Wan Jinxian's voice. "Jiaqing, Xie Juncong got his hands on that pair of Judge's Brushes." He Jiaqing smiled. "That's good news. Have him send them over to Yuezhou in a few days so I can study them properly." "Jiaqing, here's the thing: Xie Juncong says he did get them, but they were stolen right back by Li the Seventh." "Stolen? Someone stole something from Xie Juncong?" He Jiaqing could hardly believe it. "That's what Xie Juncong claims. I couldn't believe it either. Who could possibly steal from him? "Besides, Li the Seventh is doing business with us right now. He ought to count as our friend. How could he steal from us?" He Jiaqing thought for a moment. "Doing business is true enough, but whether we're friends is another matter entirely. Li the Seventh draws that line very clearly. "Tell Old Xie that I'm very displeased. Tell him to figure out a way to get the items back himself." As he spoke, a girl wearing fox ears rushed out of the convention hall and snatched the fox tail straight off his head. "You'd even steal this? Disgusting!" *** Wan Jinxian ended the transmission and looked at Critick. "That's the whole story." Critick rubbed his chin, unable to make sense of it. "I don't understand the relationship between Li the Seventh and He Jiaqing." Wan Jinxian shook his head. "I don't understand it either. Perhaps it's similar to the relationship between you and me." Critick shook his head. "I don't think it's the same. According to the information I have, Li the Seventh is resisting—resisting for the sake of Puluo Province." "Jiaqing is doing the same." "I don't see that. I only see him doing everything possible to empower himself." Wan Jinxian sighed. "You don't understand the predicament Puluo Province is in. You don't understand how powerful the forces from the Inner and Outer States are." "Of course I understand," Critick said with a laugh. "My country has places like this too." Wan Jinxian was startled. "You foreigners have places like this as well?" "We do," Critick nodded. "It's just not called Puluo Province." This sparked another suspicion in Wan Jinxian: "Your pathway didn't originate from Puluo Province, but from your own country?" This was a crucial matter; Wan Jinxian had never been able to fathom the origin of Critick's cultivation. If Critick's cultivation came from abroad, it would prove that Disease Cultivation might not have been created by the Lüshui Beggar. "Pathways..." Critick shook his head. "If our homeland had the concept of pathways, the people there would have possessed the means to resist." They don't have pathways there? "From the sound of it, people in your homeland have suffered a great deal of oppression as well?" Critick nodded. "If you heard the stories of our homeland, I guarantee you would weep. I guarantee you would think Puluo Province is as wonderful as paradise. "Human nature is the same everywhere. That is why I loathe humanity. One day, I will ensure that every single human life ends at my hands." "You're insane. Hopelessly insane." Wan Jinxian could think of no more fitting assessment. "I am not insane, Senior Brother. Most people in this world will die of disease, and dying of disease is considered a natural end. "Having them die from diseases I created conforms both to the laws of nature and to human destiny. I believe we should accomplish this magnificent feat together." Wan Jinxian nodded. "Sure, I can help you. First, cure the rash on my back." Critick smiled. "Senior Brother, don't pay so much mind to that rash. It is a gift from the Ancestral Master. My willingness to share it with you is proof of my generosity." Wan Jinxian said nothing more, stood up, and took his leave. Once he had left the hospital, Critick used a probe to puncture his own nose. A trickle of emerald-green pus oozed out. This pus was exuded under the influence of Wan Jinxian. Critick tested the texture with his finger, tasted it, and closed his eyes to sense it for a long while before arriving at a conclusion: "He is resisting, and he's achieved some results. This senior brother of mine is formidable—both in his cultivation and in his willpower. "If he keeps resisting like this, what will the result be?" *Slurp—* Critick swallowed the pus. *** Wan Jinxian returned to his estate. His steward brought in a box of silver dollars. "Master, the house in Heshunyuan has been sold." He had already sold six properties in Lüshui City, and now this was the only one left. This one couldn't be sold; if he sold it, he would be sleeping in the street. He needed money. He needed to buy pills. He needed to advance his cultivation. The rash across his back flared with waves of itching. Wan Jinxian gritted his teeth and thought to himself: *Once I reach tier eight, I should be able to dissolve this rash.* *** Inside the Chu family mansion, Chu Huaijun puffed on a cigar, quietly listening to his subordinates report on the movements of Sanying Gate. Bao Yingchen was dead, Yang Xingbo was dead, and Dong Kaibin was dead as well. Every bit of influence he had cultivated inside Sanying Gate had been slaughtered clean. What infuriated him most was that Bao Yingchen's death had actually been pinned on his head. The He family, the Lu family, the Qingyun Association, the Baihua Sect, the White Crane Gang... sects and families large and small were all willing to testify, all claiming that Bao Yingchen had been ambushed by Chu Huaijun. Chu Huaijun had sent men to find Shen Jinzhong to demand an explanation. Shen Jinzhong had sent back the severed heads of Dong Kaibin and his subordinates—an explanation delivered loud and clear. Sanying Gate's days were numbered. Only by wiping this sect out would they learn who truly called the shots in Puluo Province! Chu Huaijun stubbed out his cigar and called for his men: "Book a banquet table at Yingchun Tower. Tomorrow night, I'm taking the Chief Commissioner to dinner."