Inside the Portable Abode, Li Banfeng was conferring with the Tang dao on a course of action.
"Er'lü, do you still remember the circumstances of your battle with Lü Huazi?"
"I've forgotten most of it. I only have a faint impression of a few minor details.
"I remember many people died in Huazi Bay. Crop after crop, it never stopped.
"At the time, I didn't know how to handle it. Huazi Bay was a place where poor folks lived. Striking it with a natural disaster seemed all too ordinary, as though no one could possibly resist it.
"In the end, Lü Huazi fought me to the death. My lord, you might not believe me, but to tell the truth, I truly didn't back down in that fight."
Li Banfeng said, "I believe you. When a brutal battle is upon you, you've never once backed down."
The Tang dao continued, "I remember feeling very weak that day. I was already weak before we crossed hands, and once the fighting started, I grew even weaker.
"I snatched a few things from him. After I took them, I used the Give an Inch and Take a Foot technique.
"I plucked out his internal organs. I thought I was going to win, but as for what happened next, I truly cannot recall.
"I only remember my blade was still there, and it kept talking to me. I don't remember what it said. By the time I could remember things again, I had already become the blade."
Though his memory was foggy, the Tang dao had already provided quite a few crucial details.
Li Banfeng wanted very much to string these pieces into a coherent trail of clues, but his thoughts were utterly jumbled. The technique used by this recent adversary was exceptionally formidable, and its lingering effects still echoed in Li Banfeng's mind.
No need to fear chaos; they had a way to sort it out—a very direct, visual way.
Li Banfeng recorded in writing both the Tang dao's account and the earlier description given by the old man from the citrus orchard.
Scene One: Lüshui Beggar kills people in Huazi Bay via plague.
At the time, Lüshui Beggar wore a hideous grin, squeezing the pustules on his face one by one, causing the surrounding people to perish one after another.
Li Banfeng said to the projector, "Depict the action of squeezing pustules in finer detail."
The projector explained, "I worry that making the visuals too detailed will repulse the audience."
"It won't. What this sequence needs is visual impact."
*Splat!* A glob of foul pus splashed onto the screen. The wife shuddered. "Husband, must we watch this at home?"
Hong Ying sneered. "A husband guides his wife! Brother Seven can watch whatever he pleases—who are you to run your mouth?"
The gramophone flared with rage. "Insolent wench, you're begging for a beating, aren't you!"
Hong Ying brought over the wooden board herself. "Go on, strike me then!"
The gramophone chuckled. "Yingying, come here. I won't beat you today. I'll unblock your eyes and let you broaden your horizons."
Hong Ying sneered. "If you unblock my eyes, one Passing Glance from me will finish you off!"
The two bickered on while the film continued to play.
Corpses littered Huazi Bay, and the combat strength of the local spirit, Yuan Shoulu, was severely undermined.
Li Banfeng said to the Tang dao, "Your method of cultivation must have been like Old Yao's—not taking unilaterally, but looking out for each other.
"I recall this is called living water cultivation. Combat prowess fluctuates with the population count.
"Lüshui Beggar exploited precisely this point. By culling the population of Huazi Bay, he drastically diminished your strength in battle."
The Tang dao pondered for a long time before replying, "I don't recall clearly, but it should be just as my lord says. It's just that this Yuan Shoulu in the shadow play doesn't look much like me."
The projector said in a heavy, resonant tone, "As long as the artistic mood is captured, do not be overly critical."
The Tang dao still could not accept it. "Yuan Shoulu is my name, but I am a human being! What do you mean by putting an actual donkey up there?"
In the combat scene between Lüshui Beggar and Yuan Shoulu, a beggar was locked in a life-and-death struggle against a scrawny donkey.
The wife laughed until steam filled the entire room. Hong Ying scoffed, "Didn't you just say it was disgusting? Now look at you laughing so hard!"
"Yingying, come over here. Your hair is combed all wrong; let me fix it for you!"
Hong Ying spat. "You, kindly fixing my hair? Aren't you just looking for a chance to strike me?"
"I really won't strike you. Come along, quickly."
While the wife combed Hong Ying's hair, the shadow play showed the beggar beating the donkey to death.
The Tang dao was rather dissatisfied. "I fought a fierce, prolonged battle with him! Isn't glossing over it with a single stroke a bit inappropriate?"
The projector ignored the Tang dao and kept rolling the footage. Lüshui Beggar sat beside the donkey's carcass and devoured it. Layers of radiant halos rippled across his body, and from that moment on, he became the local spirit.
"Er'lü, did Lüshui Beggar create the Disease Cultivator pathway only after becoming the local spirit? Is that sequence accurate?"
The Tang dao racked his brain for a long while. "My lord, this subordinate truly cannot recall."
The projector rewound the film slightly. "Director Seven, before Lüshui Beggar became the local spirit, he was already spreading plagues. The Disease Cultivators might have already become an established pathway by then."
With no way to verify the exact timing, Li Banfeng could only turn to the gramophone for guidance. "Darling wife, after ascending above the clouds, can a cultivator create a pathway?"
While combing Hong Ying's hair, the wife replied, "There is such a rumor, but your concubine tried it without success. It likely depends on a cultivator's innate talent."
Hong Ying chimed in, "Brother Seven, I tried it as well, and it didn't work either."
The gramophone sneered. "All you do every day is pore over *Verses of Added Fragrance*. What kind of pathway could you possibly cook up? A two-door pathway?"
Hong Ying merely huffed and said no more. Li Banfeng watched the footage of Lüshui Beggar spreading the plague, sensing that something was amiss.
"Er'lü, when Lüshui Beggar spread a plague across your domain, did you just stand by and let him do as he pleased without doing a thing?"
The Tang dao thought for a long time before replying, "My lord, back then I only knew there was a plague; I didn't know who was spreading it. Cultivation bases cannot be seen, and I had no idea who Lü Huazi was.
"I did quite a lot back then. I begged and borrowed plenty of grain and medicinal herbs from the neighboring local spirits, but those herbs were entirely useless against the disease."
*Yuan Shoulu couldn't tell who Lü Huazi was at the time?*
*That shouldn't be, should it?*
"The old man I met in the citrus orchard already recognized that it was Lüshui Beggar spreading the plague back then."
The Tang dao chuckled at that. "I know that old fellow who grows oranges. Back then, his cultivation base was already approaching above the clouds. What he said wasn't wrong, but it reverses cause and effect."
"How so?"
"He knows that Lüshui Beggar killed me and became the local spirit of Huazi Bay, so in hindsight, he deduced Lü Huazi's various methods. As the years went by, cause and effect became deeply ingrained in his mind, making it seem only natural in retrospect. But back then, even he didn't know who was spreading the plague."
In the face of an epidemic, tens of thousands fell ill; in the heat of the moment, the origin was simply impossible to discern.
*Was the same thing happening in Huangtuqiao?*
Li Banfeng made minor adjustments to his recent experiences and had the projector translate them into motion pictures.
In their daily business operations, the merchants of Huangtuqiao encountered endless entanglements: restaurants prepared dishes wrong, pharmacies dispensed incorrect medicine, and accidents occurred ceaselessly in factories and mines, driving merchants away one after another.
These disruptions arrived with extreme stealth. Coupled with the fact that the local spirit at the time was the Star of Mourning, it was easy to attribute them to poor luck—just as the recent events had immediately caused Ma the Fifth to suspect a Mourning Cultivator.
The Star of Mourning practiced the dead water cultivation method, demanding tribute without offering protection. Huangtuqiao deteriorated rapidly, soon facing the risk of degenerating into an oldland.
To preserve his status, the Star of Mourning launched a sneak attack on Yaowanggou, only to be slain by Old Yao.
And the cultivator orchestrating the chaos must have planned to use that opportunity to steal the Star of Mourning's covenant deed, forcibly seize the status, and ascend above the clouds.
Yet he failed, because the coachman beat him to it and returned first.
When the Star of Mourning went to Yaowanggou, the coachman vanished—it turned out he had rushed back to vie for Huangtuqiao's covenant deed.
Judging by the coachman's current state, he remained oblivious to the fact that Huangtuqiao harbored such a ruthless figure capable of manufacturing chaos.
Where was this ruthless figure? Was he in Beiqiao?
Whether he was or not, Li Banfeng would go take a look first.
Li Banfeng carried the Tang dao out of the Portable Abode, while the gramophone continued combing Hong Ying's hair.
"Yingying, your rouge is applied all wrong as well. Let me fix it properly for you."
Hong Ying was surprisingly obedient, sitting before the gramophone and waiting for her to apply the rouge.
Suddenly, the gramophone plunged both of her styluses into Hong Ying's spearhead, making Hong Ying shudder from the pain.
"What are you doing, you wicked shrew!"
"Stay still! Didn't I just say I would unblock your eyes?"
"Y-You're using the aperture-opening technique? D-Don't you dare trick me! If you want to kill me, just kill me; don't use underhanded tricks to ruin me!"
"I told you to hold still, so hold still! Are you asking for a beating?"
Hong Ying felt uneasy, waves of sharp agony throbbing across her brow.
A glimmer of light broke through without warning, startling her.
*Can I truly see?*
"Yingying, try opening your eyes."
Hong Ying had no eyes, yet her vision had returned.
She saw the interior of the Portable Abode: a narrow, dim room.
She saw the dressing mirror, and herself within it.
A body of flesh and limbs, topped by an enormous spearhead and a mane of waist-length hair.
The appearance was somewhat strange, yet Hong Ying adored it. She thought herself exceedingly beautiful.
She looked at the table, the chairs, and the candles on the candlesticks.
Ever since her battle with Zhao Xiaowan until this very day, Hong Ying could finally see things once more.
She glanced at the liquor gourd. "You're Gourd Sister?"
The gourd swayed. "That's me. Congratulations, Elder Sister."
She then looked at the calendar poster. "You're Mengde?"
Mengde offered a polite, well-mannered bow. "Congratulations, Second Madam."
Hong Ying asked, "Where is that wretched wench Red Lotus?"
The gramophone replied, "Over in Room Nine."
Hong Ying turned her face toward the gramophone—toward the three large horns, the two styluses, and the steaming machine.
*Pfft... pffft-hah...*
Hong Ying let out a strange sound, like an ordinary person with their mouth clamped shut trying to suppress laughter through their nose.
The gramophone's voice turned grim. "Holding back laughter, are you, wench? Mocking me, are you, wench!"
"N-No... Bwahahaha!"
Hong Ying burst out laughing, unable to help herself.
Infuriated, the gramophone dragged over a stool, pinned Hong Ying down, yanked down her trousers, swung a wooden board, aimed squarely at her peach, and began thrashing her soundly.
Hong Ying did not let out a single cry. Even while taking the blows, she couldn't stop herself from snickering.
The more she laughed, the angrier the gramophone became, and the harder the blows landed.
After a dozen-odd strikes, the gramophone abruptly stopped. She heard a commotion from Room Five.
The projector was speaking to someone in Room Five, his voice somewhat loud. Hong Ying heard it as well.
The gramophone whispered, "That thing showed itself again."
Hong Ying stood up, rubbed her peach, pulled up her trousers, and said, "What thing? I'll go have a look."
The gramophone said, "Don't be reckless. Listen to the movements first. These things exist in every room; who knows how many years they've lingered in this manor? Usually they rarely show themselves, but for some reason, the one in Room Five has latched onto the projector."
"Who cares how many years she's stayed here? Drag her out and take a look first! You're the head mistress of this household—are you going to let her turn the heavens upside down?" Hong Ying strode directly toward Room Five.
Pushing the door open, she saw the projector screening his earlier feature film.
Spotting the woman on the wall, Hong Ying threw a fist at her.
The projector shouted in alarm, "Madam, calm down, that is a shadow play!"
Couldn't Hong Ying tell it was a shadow play?
She genuinely couldn't. She had never seen a moving picture in her entire life, and with the projector's remarkably high clarity, it appeared entirely real to her eyes.
With that punch, the young woman in the projection was knocked flat to the floor, crying out in pain.
Why could she strike this girl?
It was the projector's technique: the images he created possessed physical form and a certain degree of combat capability.
Hong Ying swung her fist again. The young woman pleaded incessantly for mercy, and the projector joined in: "This is a woman born of my imagination, not an evil person! Madam, have mercy!"
"Imagination?" Hong Ying glared at the projector and demanded, "What pathway are you from?"
The projector said, "I am a Shadow Cultivator born for art."
"Shadow Cultivator?" Hong Ying scoffed, her imposing aura surging forth. "I've seen Shadow Cultivators before, and this is not the manner in which they operate. This is the false relocation technique!"
The projector was utterly bewildered. "Madam, I do not understand what you mean. I have never learned any false relocation technique."
"Still playing dumb with me!" Hong Ying drew a short blade from her waist.
The gramophone yelled, "You wretched girl! Stop giving one of our own a hard time!"
"Xiaowan, this fellow isn't that simple!" Hong Ying was preparing to strike in earnest. "He's using the false relocation technique and sustaining it for so long—do you have any idea how high his cultivation base must be?"
Hong Ying slashed downward with her blade. The projector was unversed in combat and had no idea how to react.
*Hum!*
The Portable Abode trembled violently. Hong Ying lost her footing, nearly toppling over.
The gramophone rushed into Room Five and dragged Hong Ying out.
"You insolent wench! I just unblocked your eyes and you immediately cause trouble! I see you haven't been beaten enough—twenty more strokes with the board in a moment, and you'll count them yourself!"
***
Li Banfeng arrived at Beiqiao and bought a jianbing guozi from a street stall.
Everyone claimed the local merchants of Huangtuqiao were vicious, so Li Banfeng had prepared himself for extortionate prices.
Yet this pancake vendor used good batter and fresh eggs, gave generous portions throughout without cutting corners, and every bite was fragrant. For a single jianbing guozi, he charged only two dollars.
This was an honest, law-abiding merchant. Li Banfeng handed him a hundred-dollar bill and inquired about some local information.
Here in Beiqiao, the largest coal pit owner was surnamed Hu, named Hu Manchun. Three hundred meters east of the bridgehead stood a three-story building—his home.
Aside from Hu Manchun, there were also Song Shilong, Tang Dongsheng, Yue Sicheng... all coal pit owners of Beiqiao.
Li Banfeng sought out Hu Manchun first. Arriving before the small building, he knocked on the door. A middle-aged man wearing a white dress shirt, sporting an eight-character mustache, and with slicked-back hair opened the door.
"Who are you looking for?"
"I'm looking for Manager Hu."
The man scrutinized Li Banfeng before answering, "I am Hu Manchun. What brings you here, sir?"
Li Banfeng said, "I've come to buy coal."
The man promptly stepped aside to clear the entrance, extending a hand. "Please, come right in."
*That isn't right.*
The largest coal pit owner in Huangtuqiao ought to be its foremost tyrant in Li Banfeng's conception.
Yet judging by this man's demeanor and temperament, he was completely divorced from any tyrant archetype.
Moreover, how did his house not have a single guard?
Entering the parlor, the furnishings were exceedingly rustic: one table, two benches, the two men sitting face to face.
Hu Manchun called for tea. An old lady carried in a teapot and poured a cup for each of them, and that served as hospitality.
Li Banfeng felt less like he had arrived at a coal baron's residence and more like he was visiting Feng's Grocery Store.
Hu Manchun asked, "How should I address you, sir?"
Li Banfeng said, "Surname is Li, from Lüshui City. I want to buy some coal in Huangtuqiao. Hearing that Manager Hu calls the shots here, I came to inquire about prices."
"I wouldn't dare claim such a thing; I merely run a small-scale business. Boss Li, let's lay our cards on the table first. Seeing your attire, you don't look like an ordinary person. If you wish to conduct large transactions, I don't have the stock. If you wish to purchase loose coal, I can at most scrape together one or two railcars for you."
"Isn't that a bit little?"
"Pardon my shortcomings, but that is the extent of my capability. Truly, I cannot supply any more. However, our prices are cheap—twenty percent lower than Black Rock Slope. It's just that we cannot handle the transport costs; you will have to cover those yourself."
With that, Hu Manchun had someone bring over coal samples—different grades of coal at different prices.
Li Banfeng requested two railcars of high-grade bituminous coal, immediately drawing up a covenant deed with Hu Manchun to deliver it to the train station tomorrow evening.
Li Banfeng prepared to hand over half the deposit first, but Hu Manchun waved his hand. "Doing business in Huangtuqiao, we trust the covenant deed. No deposit needed. At the train station, we'll exchange cash on delivery."
The deal was concluded just like that.
As Li Banfeng prepared to leave, Hu Manchun rose to urge him to stay. "Boss Li, if you don't mind, have an informal dinner at my place tonight. I'll have Auntie Liu cook up something nice."
"No need for courtesy, I have other arrangements tonight."
"Young Miss Qin across the street sings melodies wonderfully. Shall I call her over to perform a tune for you and accompany you for a couple of drinks?"
"Boss Hu, let us chat another day. I truly have urgent business."
"Then at least finish your tea before you go."
Li Banfeng didn't drink the tea either, departing Hu Manchun's small building.
This was an honest, law-abiding merchant. It seemed his prior assessment had been mistaken.
Yet if the merchants of Huangtuqiao were all as honest as he was, why would the town have fallen into such ruin?
*Perhaps this Hu Manchun knew I was coming and deliberately put on a show for me.*
*My current attire is too recognizable; I need to head back and change into different clothes.*
Li Banfeng returned to the Portable Abode. Hong Ying warmly came up to greet him. "Brother Seven, you're back!"
Li Banfeng smiled at Hong Ying. "I'm back."
"Brother Seven, you... you really aren't that handsome, are you..."
Li Banfeng turned to the gramophone with a smile. "Thrash her within an inch of her life!"
The gramophone pinned Hong Ying down and began striking. Hong Ying cried out, "You aren't handsome, and I'm not even allowed to say it? Even that warrants a beating!"
Li Banfeng took out the pendulum and asked her to alter his appearance.
The pendulum asked, "Master, what kind of appearance do you desire?"
For a moment, Li Banfeng couldn't think of anything. Hong Ying rubbed her peach and said, "Brother Seven, that projector of yours is no simple item. He's an expert of our pathway—his cultivation base might even exceed mine."
"You're saying the projector is a journey cultivator?" Li Banfeng didn't believe it.
"His technique can turn things of imagination into living people. Even though their combat capability isn't high, it genuinely resembles the false relocation technique."
Li Banfeng waved his hand. "We can't make wild guesses. I'll ask him another day."
Hong Ying sneered. "If you ask, will he be willing to speak the truth?"
Li Banfeng offered no reply, going directly to Room Five to fetch the projector.
Hong Ying assumed they were going to confront him openly, instantly flaring her aura.
The gramophone scolded, "Don't act recklessly; wait for my husband's orders."
Li Banfeng looked at the projector. "Brother, have you seen Pan Dehai?"
The projector said, "I have footage of him."
The projector had indeed recorded a segment of Pan Dehai. Looking at Pan Dehai's appearance, Li Banfeng said to the pendulum, "Disguise me according to this."
Hong Ying looked at the projection on the wall and sighed, "You weren't handsome to begin with; won't making yourself look like this only make you uglier?"
Li Banfeng looked at the gramophone and smiled. "Keep beating her!"
Amidst the crisp clatter of the board, the pendulum quickly applied the makeup to Li Banfeng. Looking into the mirror, Li Banfeng found a seventy to eighty percent resemblance.
*Hiss...*
The wife laughed. "Darling husband, this makeup is enough to fool ordinary folk, but against someone of deep cultivation, flaws will still be visible."
"A few flaws don't matter. I'm not actually impersonating Pan Dehai; I just need people not to recognize me."
"Husband, your concubine recently learned a few disguise techniques, so we might as well give them a try. I'll just need Sister Hanxue to lend a hand."
The Hanxue Pendulum naturally understood propriety and quickly curtsied. "To learn skills from the mistress is my good fortune."
The gramophone mixed clay with pigments, blending them into a bowl of paste. Following Pan Dehai's likeness, she and the pendulum applied it stroke by stroke to Li Banfeng.
Once the outlining was finished, the gramophone puffed a breath of steam over Li Banfeng, causing the clay to adhere to his face like flesh and skin.
Li Banfeng looked into the mirror: a broad square face, a bulbous nose, a wide mouth, and a small mustache pasted on—he looked virtually identical to Pan Dehai.
"Husband, use your concubine's technique to alter your voice."
Li Banfeng cleared his throat, recalling Pan Dehai's voice, and uttered, "I am a man of immense virtue."
The projector said, "Director Seven, it lacks a touch of flavor. Raise the pitch slightly higher; when Pan Dehai spoke, he possessed far more self-assurance than that!"
After several adjustments, the voice was practically indistinguishable.
The wife gathered some fabric and hastily stitched together a long gown, topped with a round skullcap, bringing an authentic Pan Dehai to life.
"Husband's frame is considerably leaner than that old scoundrel's; some padding is still required."
The wife stuffed more clay inside Li Banfeng's garments. Unless someone was intimately acquainted with Pan Dehai, they would never discern the difference.
*But what if I encounter a Scrying Cultivator?*
"Husband, rest assured. Scrying Cultivators below the sixth tier will not perceive the slightest flaw. Even if you encounter one above the sixth tier, there is no need to fret; Dwelling Cultivators are inconspicuous, and minor imperfections will escape their notice."
The gramophone took a piece of lumber, scraping, whittling, and aging it until she had crafted a walking stick for Li Banfeng.
Li Banfeng went out, leaning on the walking stick, and made his way to another small building.
When he knocked, an elderly man in his sixties answered. "Who are you looking for, sir?"
"I'm looking for Boss Song, Song Shilong. I've come to buy coal."
The elder was indeed Song Shilong, and he quickly extended a welcoming hand. "Please, step inside."
The furnishings in Song Shilong's home were largely identical to those in Hu Manchun's. After tea was poured, the two began discussing business. Song Shilong asked first, "May I ask how to address you, sir?"
Li Banfeng had no intention of posing as Pan Dehai, so he concocted a random name: "My surname is Wu, named Wu Dade, from Haichiling."
"You came all this way to buy coal from me?"
Li Banfeng nodded. "I heard from a friend that Boss Song is a man of virtue. Doing business with a man of virtue puts my heart at ease."
Song Shilong cupped his hands. "I am unworthy of such praise, and dare not claim the word 'virtue,' but when it comes to the duties of doing business, I do not fall short. Let us lay our cards on the table first: I cannot supply large-scale orders, and can at most scrape together some loose coal for you."
*This sounds awfully familiar.*
Hu Manchun had used this exact same phrasing.
"Loose coal will do."
"Please, examine the coal samples first!"
The coal samples were no different from Hu Manchun's. Li Banfeng selected two railcars of high-grade bituminous coal, drew up a covenant deed, and offered a deposit, which was refused, waiting instead to collect payment at the station.
Before he left, Song Shilong first invited him to dinner, then invited him to listen to music.
Li Banfeng waved his hand. "In my conduct, virtue comes first. Such matters shouldn't even be mentioned to me."
Song Shilong smiled. "Boss Wu, you misunderstand. Young Miss Qin only sings melodies; she does not entertain overnight guests. It is merely to add to the cheer."
Li Banfeng politely declined and left Song Shilong's house.
Another honest, law-abiding man. Their words were practically identical, as though taught by the very same master.
Afterward, Li Banfeng visited over a dozen households in succession, altering his makeup five times. No matter what appearance he assumed, every coal pit owner he met gave the exact same spiel.
*Was the business truly this honest? Were the local customs truly this simple and upright?*
Li Banfeng left Beiqiao and saw a rickshaw coachman staring at him from the roadside.
Li Banfeng called out with a smile, "Coachman, heading to Haichiling?"
Wiping the sweat from his brow, the coachman said, "Brother, you scared the daylights out of me! I thought that utterly virtueless bastard had arrived! Quickly, get in the cart and talk. Are you returning from Beiqiao?"
"Yes."
"Did you find the troublemaker?"
"Soon. We'll see tomorrow night when we collect the goods."
The coachman pulled Li Banfeng back to the mine. The following evening, Li Banfeng had Ma the Fifth go to collect the cargo while he and the coachman waited outside.
Arriving before the station, Ma the Fifth first met Hu Manchun.
Hu Manchun brought two railcars of high-grade bituminous coal; the quality was impeccable, and the price was cheap.
Cash exchanged for goods, the transaction was complete. Hu Manchun did not forget to offer a polite invitation: "Shall we head over to young Miss Qin's to listen to a tune?"
Ma the Fifth was actually somewhat inclined, but he couldn't neglect serious business: "This transaction marks a beginning; let us gather for the next deal."
Hu Manchun smiled. "Let us lay our cards on the table first: I cannot handle large-scale business, and can only earn this bit of loose silver."
Ma the Fifth cupped his hands in farewell and proceeded to collect coal from the other owners.
Over the course of the night, he collected over twenty railcars of coal. Every household offered the exact same quality, the exact same price, and the exact same words.
Ma the Fifth was a businessman; he knew things shouldn't be this coincidental.
Exiting the station, he located Li Banfeng and the coachman inside an abandoned restaurant nearby. "The troublemaker is among them, or connected to all of them. They are definitely accomplices; otherwise, their phrasing wouldn't be so identical."
Li Banfeng remained silent. The coachman said from the side, "We can't just slaughter them all, can we? Beiqiao holds the only remaining life and popularity in Huangtuqiao. If we kill them all, this place will truly turn into an oldland."
Ma the Fifth asked, "What do we do with these twenty-odd railcars of coal?"
Li the Seventh said, "Ship them out, of course! Hasn't our business just opened?"
"What about the coal at the mine?"
"Ship that out as well!" Li Banfeng lowered the brim of his hat and said, "I'll find a way to fish this Chaos Cultivator out."
Chapter 461