Fu Taiyue, Puluo Province's master painter of figures and erotic art, had appeared on a mountain—a mountain that had no business existing on this tract of land.
Had he painted this mountain into existence?
Just what was this old gentleman's cultivation, that he could paint an entire mountain this vast?
What was his purpose in painting a mountain on my territory?
Could he have realized how special this land was and come to seize territory?
Li Banfeng looked toward Fu Taiyue’s hands. Fu Taiyue’s sleeves were very long, both hands tucked inside, making Li Banfeng suspect he held some sort of weapon or magic treasure.
If they came to blows, he could not afford to let the old man seize the upper hand.
Gazing at the scroll on the table, Fu Taiyue suddenly spoke: "Are you willing to learn painting?"
Learn painting?
Back then, Li Banfeng had sought him out to learn painting; could he still remember that?
Because Fu Taiyue's style had been too freehand and impressionistic, while Li Banfeng's Golden House for a Hidden Beauty technique required realism—and learning from him without any fundamentals was too difficult and would take too long to yield results—Li Banfeng had ultimately decided against studying under him. Fu Taiyue had lost his temper quite badly over it at the time.
Now, however, the old painter seemed to have shifted styles. The portrait on the desk was rendered with striking realism. Having studied painting under the pendulum and Hong Ying for a time, Li Banfeng could discern many techniques and methods within the piece.
Talk to him about painting first. Build a slope for the donkey to ride down, and only then could he get the truth out of him.
Li Banfeng said, "I have a great fondness for painting. I would trouble the venerable elder for guidance."
Fu Taiyue stared at the scroll on the desk, remaining silent for a long time.
After a good while longer, as if moved by some sentiment, Fu Taiyue picked up a calligraphy brush and dipped it into the inkstone.
His sleeves were too long. Li Banfeng still couldn't see his hand; he only saw a brush extending from the cuff, tracing the contours of the man's face on the scroll.
His handling of the details was breathtaking. With every stroke added, the figure gained another ounce of spirit.
As he painted, Fu Taiyue explained, "The hair must flutter just slightly. That is how you convey the presence of wind.
"A winter without wind always feels not cold enough to people. And if the winter is not cold enough, there is no point in painting this scarf.
"Yet the hair cannot whip about too much, and the wind cannot be too fierce, or a person facing into it wouldn't be able to keep their eyes open."
This was pure substance. In just a few words, Li Banfeng learned a great deal of knowledge from the old gentleman.
Fu Taiyue had hit his stride, and the slope was ready. It was about time to coax him down. Li Banfeng asked, "Allow me to consult Senior Fu: if one wishes to paint a mountain, what are the essentials?"
After waiting several minutes, Fu Taiyue did not speak.
The slope was so smooth—why hadn't he come down?
Did he have a way to guard against Fool Cultivator techniques?
That was unlikely. For one, Fool Cultivator techniques weren't that easy to defend against; for another, very few people even knew about them.
Just as Li Banfeng considered probing further, a gust of cold wind blew in, and dark clouds drifted across the sky. It looked like rain.
Fu Taiyue set down his brush, his expression shifting slightly.
Did he realize I was fishing for information and want to fight?
Fight him?
If this mountain truly had been painted into existence by Fu Taiyue, then Li Banfeng was inside a world of Fu Taiyue's painting, and a painted world would inevitably be under Fu Taiyue's absolute dominion.
Fighting Fu Taiyue here would put Li Banfeng at a severe disadvantage. Moreover, the companion dwelling wasn't at his side; it was currently in a cavern constructing the train station. In a crisis, he wouldn't even have a retreat.
Li Banfeng said, "Farewell," turned, and walked away.
From behind him, Fu Taiyue said, "Leaving so soon? Won't you stay and learn a bit longer?"
Li Banfeng said, "I've learned enough for today. I'll head back and study it thoroughly."
Fu Taiyue picked up his brush again, eyes fixed on the scroll. "I can tell at a glance you're a prodigy at painting. Study well under me, and you'll make something of yourself in the future."
Li Banfeng smiled faintly.
The way he said that, it was as if I amounted to nothing right now.
"I will come visit again tomorrow." Li Banfeng went down the mountain.
Fu Taiyue was still on the mountain painting, murmuring as he stroked the brush: "The first glance I took at you, I knew you were prime material for this trade.
"This trade isn't easy to learn. How many labor bitterly their entire lives only to end up mere artisans, never true artists?
"They do not understand the artistic realm within. The artistic realm relies entirely on innate talent; without talent, no amount of bitter toil will do you any good.
"You have talent—rare, once-in-a-lifetime talent. As long as you follow me, whether in brushwork or upon the pathway, you will surely become a grandmaster of your generation!"
As he spoke, he added several finishing touches to the scroll. The young man on the paper appeared deeply moved, tears streaming down in excitement.
Fu Taiyue let out a sigh: "You always say you want to be a Literary Cultivator, but Literary Cultivators are everywhere in this world. Do you truly have talent among them?
"Do not squander the prime of your youth, lest you regret it later when it's too late. The Painting Pathway is your true way forward. As your master, I would never deceive you!"
The young man in the painting looked at Fu Taiyue and nodded vigorously.
***
Returning to the companion dwelling, Li Banfeng said, "Old Man, I have something to ask you."
The Old Man did not reply. Li Banfeng faintly heard the sound of singing: "Across flat ground, through mountain trails, chugging and puffing out smoky veils! Add coal and water, we take the track; when the train starts rolling, no power lacks..."
He was singing a train ballad.
The gramophone said, "The Old Man has been singing since early morning without stopping once. Building the grand station has made him deliriously happy. Husband, what did you want to ask him?"
Li Banfeng said, "A Painting Cultivator has arrived on my territory, of rather high standing. He painted a massive mountain into being and can even sit inside it painting. For a moment, you can't even tell which is the painting and which is the person."
Though his wording was slightly convoluted, the wife understood clearly: "A Painting Cultivator using a painting to infiltrate someone's home—that sort of thing has happened before. Yingying even lived through it."
Hong Ying spat, "Bah! What do you mean I lived through it? I just witnessed it!"
"Tell your husband about it!"
Hong Ying said, "When I was eleven, my second elder brother was preparing for the imperial examinations. Everything from top to bottom had been bribed and arranged, so the exam was practically just going through the motions, but he still had to read a little.
"He claimed he wanted peace and quiet, so he moved out to the East Courtyard to study. After a while, his studying hadn't improved, but his health grew worse and worse. He couldn't walk two li without breaking into a drenching sweat.
"Father called a physician to examine him, who only said he was constitutionally depleted and needed tonics. That day, Mother simmered some soup and had me bring it to him. But when I stepped into his room, I found him burrowing into a painting hanging on the wall!
"I was terrified and ran to tell Father. Father had someone inspect the painting, and only then did we learn it was the work of a Painting Cultivator.
"A friend had given the painting to my second brother. It was by the talented maiden Mu Yuejuan, who was both a Painting Cultivator and a joy cultivator. Through her paintings, heaven knows how many young men she had seduced. If we had discovered it any later, my second brother would have lost his life."
Li Banfeng asked, "Be more specific. What was inside that painting?"
Hong Ying shook her head. "I never went inside. All I know is that it depicted a grand manor. According to my second brother, there were seventy-two rooms in total, and inside every single room was a peerless beauty.
"Every night he switched to a different room. It took him two and a half months to complete a full circuit. When he returned to the first room, he found the beauty had been replaced with someone new. In a place that wonderful, he was willing to be sucked dry of life itself."
Li Banfeng asked, "What happened after that? Where did the painting go? And where did Mu Yuejuan go?"
Hong Ying said, "Father burned the painting, but burning it was useless. Mu Yuejuan had over a hundred similar paintings, and every painting was connected to the others.
"She could step from one painting straight into another; nobody could catch her at all. My brother thought he had bedded over seventy beauties, when in truth every one of them was Mu Yuejuan—she had simply used her painting techniques to alter her appearance."
Li Banfeng smacked his lips. "Such a fine painting. A shame it was burned."
The gramophone snapped angrily, "What are you planning to do?"
Li Banfeng explained, "I was just thinking of studying the combat techniques of Painting Cultivators."
The gramophone scoffed, "You can't even tell a gate from a doorway, and you think you can understand their techniques?
"Husband, a Painting Cultivator delivering a painting onto your territory is troublesome enough. Whatever you do, do not fight him inside his scroll. You're bound to suffer a massive loss."
This matched what Li Banfeng had anticipated.
Hong Ying said, "Then let's just burn his painting!"
The gramophone said, "It's not that easy to burn. Painting Cultivators all have ways to guard against fire. Besides, do you know what he painted that mountain on? What if he painted it right onto the earth? Are you going to burn the ground-crust itself?
"Husband, if this Painting Cultivator bears no malice, there is no harm in letting him stay on your territory for a few days. If he does harbor malice, you had best lure him out of the painting before making your move."
Hong Ying asked, "And what if he can't be lured out?"
The gramophone scolded, "Who's like you, a useless brute who knows nothing but fighting and killing? Husband has methods!"
Li Banfeng pondered for a moment, then retrieved brush and ink and began to paint.
Taking more than three hours, Li Banfeng painted a portrait of a beauty. Hong Ying praised it repeatedly: "Seventh Brother's brushwork has improved. If this painting were sent to a gallery, it would fetch a fine price."
Even the Hanxue Pendulum, who never appreciated ink-wash paintings, offered high praise: "This painting has spirit. If Master switched to oils, you could paint just as movingly."
Li Banfeng looked at the beauty's portrait and shook his head slightly. "It's still lacking something. I feel it's missing a touch of vitality. Tomorrow I'll go up the mountain again and talk about painting with him some more."
That night, Li Banfeng slept in the companion dwelling hugging the gramophone. Around three in the morning, he suddenly woke up.
Seeing him drenched in sweat, the gramophone asked with concern, "Husband, what is the matter?"
Li Banfeng said, "I want to go see that old painter again."
The gramophone was baffled: "Husband, what is there to see in the dead of night? Can't it wait until tomorrow?"
"I'm worried he might run off during the night."
The gramophone laughed. "The newland doesn't distinguish day from night. If he wanted to run, would he have to wait for nighttime?
"Besides, if he ran off, wouldn't that suit Husband's wishes perfectly?"
"Fair point." Li Banfeng lay back down in bed, but an irritation gnawed at his heart, leaving him tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
A short while later, he sat up again. "I still have to go take a look. If he ran off, fine, but I'm afraid he might do something to my territory."
Li Banfeng gathered a bundle of magic treasures, exited the companion dwelling, and sprinted full tilt toward the mountain.
The moment he began running, Li Banfeng's mind felt much calmer. In the blink of an eye, he reached the foot of the mountain. Just as Li Banfeng pulled to a halt, the Judge's Brush uttered, "So fast?"
I'm an eighth-tier journey cultivator; isn't being fast completely normal?
Was something like that worth the Judge's Brush chiming in with three whole words?
The glove said, "Master, you really did run fast today. Nestled in your pocket, I didn't dare make a twitch, terrified I'd be thrown off."
Li Banfeng rolled his knees; his legs truly did feel exceptionally powerful.
Just as he prepared to ascend the mountain, he heard a clap of thunder.
Rumble!
Li Banfeng shuddered.
A grown man wouldn't be frightened by thunder, so what was this shudder about?
Back when he first learned techniques, Li Banfeng still remembered the cart driver's teachings: the essence of seeking fortune and avoiding calamity lies in meticulous care. A journey cultivator traverses a thousand mountains and crosses ten thousand rivers; with every step taken, one must weigh one's own life.
Although he sensed no immediate danger, Li Banfeng decided not to head up the mountain tonight.
Yet if he didn't go up, how could he keep tabs on Fu Taiyue's situation?
As long as he guarded against a sneak attack, that would suffice. Li Banfeng decided to make a patrol around his territory.
***
Not until dawn drew near did Li Banfeng return. The gramophone complained, "Husband, why were you gone so long? How many hours did you even spend at home yesterday?
"How could an eighth-tier Dwelling Cultivator act like this? Lucky for you, our Old Man is busy building the station, or else he would have picked a fight with you."
Li Banfeng wiped off his sweat and said, "I was uneasy, so I patrolled the territory. Today, during daylight, I'll stay home."
Sleeping until noon, Li Banfeng couldn't sit still again. He simply wanted to go out and roam. Finding an excuse, he headed out once more.
The Old Man was busy with the station work and indeed in no mood to pay attention to Li Banfeng. Li Banfeng first went to check on the reclamation plot, where Chu the Second and Old Bull were resting with their respective crews.
The two sides had made an agreement: they would only clash for one afternoon each day. During the rest of the time, each would rest, with no ambushes and strictly no attacking wounded soldiers.
When Chu the Second went mad, he was terrifying, but once rules were set, he carried them out faithfully. With less than ten minutes before the fight was scheduled to start and Old Bull's formation not yet assembled, Chu the Second waited quietly with his men, harboring no thought of an ambush.
Once the battle began, the two sides remained evenly matched. Li Banfeng didn't linger. He returned to the companion dwelling to fetch his painting supplies, then headed up the mountain again.
There was no thunder this time; ascending now should be safe. The humidity in the mountains was even heavier than yesterday, dampening quite a few sheets of Li Banfeng's painting paper.
After circling the mountain over a dozen times, Li Banfeng finally found Fu Taiyue. His hands remained covered by his sleeves, with only the brush tip protruding from the cuff, the fabric stained with considerable ink.
Yesterday's portrait was gone—perhaps completed. He was now working on a new piece.
This time, it depicted a middle-aged man around forty, flanked by brush, ink, and inkstone, his eyes brimming with yearning.
Yet Fu Taiyue still had not painted the hands. Li Banfeng remained unable to discern what the figure in the painting was doing.
Both the pendulum and Hong Ying had said that painting hands was rigorous craft, but with Fu Taiyue's prowess, he shouldn't be stumbling on the basics.
"Elder Fu, you consistently refrain from painting hands. Is there a reason for this?"
Fu Taiyue fell silent for a long time before asking, "The state of mind of the Painting Pathway—have you comprehended it?"
Isn't it a bit early to talk about states of mind?
Besides, I never planned on joining the Painting Pathway.
Li Banfeng was in no rush to build a slope; he focused first on learning painting techniques.
He had the glove carry a desk, paper, brushes, and inkstone for him, practicing as he learned.
Around noon, Li Banfeng felt he had learned enough for the day. He had the glove pack away the desk and left behind a hundred silver dollars for the old gentleman.
For a renowned painter of Puluo Province, tuition was well worth this sum. Paying for lessons was only natural, and building a slope didn't have to rely entirely on silver-tongued talk.
In this desolate, untamed mountain wilderness, does this old gentleman usually have anything to eat?
Li Banfeng took out two cans of food, set them beside Fu Taiyue, and went down the mountain alone.
Fu Taiyue stared at his own painting, watching it for hours.
When night fell, he used a small porcelain cup to catch a few dew drops. He wanted to add them to the inkstone to grind ink, yet felt reluctant.
He brought the porcelain cup to his lips, his eyes brimming with thirst.
The man in the painting said to Fu Taiyue, "You cannot drink it. Whatever you do, don't drink it!"
Fu Taiyue opened his mouth and poured the water in.
The man in the painting warned, "Don't swallow it! Spit it out, quick!"
Fu Taiyue held it in his mouth for a moment, then spat it out.
He looked down at the cans on the ground.
This time, he truly couldn't restrain himself.
The man in the painting spoke again: "You can't eat it! Not a single bite! If you eat it, it's over!"
Fu Taiyue said, "Waiting here to starve to death—isn't that also the end?"
The man in the painting said, "Every day you live is another day gained. Perhaps we can still break out and rush down the mountain?"
Fu Taiyue shook his head. "We can't go down. Even if we went down, it would be useless!"
Using his teeth, he bit directly through the tinplate, pouring all the meat and broth from the can into his mouth.
He chewed for a long time, but this time he couldn't bear to spit it out.
He swallowed it down, and immediately bit open the other can.
The figure in the painting sighed incessantly, yet was helpless to stop him.
***
That night, Li Banfeng woke up in the middle of the night once more.
The gramophone yawned. "Husband, unable to sleep again?"
"I still want to go out and have a look."
Hong Ying yawned. "Carrying on like this is turning into a mental sickness. Let's discuss it with the Old Man another day and let me out. Beat that painter to death and we'll have peace of mind."
Even as they spoke, Li Banfeng had already gathered his things and stepped out the door.
After Li Banfeng had been gone for quite a while, the gramophone sensed something was off. "Yingying, I have something to ask you."
"What now?" Hong Ying grumbled impatiently. "First he makes a fuss, now you make a fuss. Are you going to let anyone sleep or not?"
"Why is Husband always yearning to run outside?"
"He has a lover on the outside. Are you mad?"
"Looking at his state, could he be about to advance?"
"Advance my foot!" Hong Ying huffed. "He just reached the eighth tier! Do you think cultivation is that easy to earn?"
"Cultivation... easy to earn..." The gramophone pondered for a long time, then suddenly gasped, "He might really have earned a great deal of cultivation! That mountain might not have been painted into being at all!"
Hong Ying didn't understand. "If it wasn't painted, where else could it have come from?"
Where else?
For a moment, the gramophone couldn't think of an answer either.
"Old Man," the gramophone called out, "call that madman back first."
The companion dwelling did not respond.
Hong Ying said, "He's been busy building the station without shutting his eyes all last night, and worked all day today. He's fast asleep right now; how could you possibly wake him?"
"Building the station... a grand station... Heavenly Heart Stone! No wonder it's such a coincidence!" the gramophone cried out. "This is bad! Old Man, wake up, quick! Call that madman back!"
***
Li Banfeng climbed the mountain. All along the way, he muttered to himself, "I have to find out his purpose, or I won't even be able to sleep in peace!"
The Judge's Brush said, "Is it really because of him?"
Not because of him?
Then who else could it be?
Wandering across the mountain for nearly the entire night and walking who knew how many li, Li Banfeng finally found Fu Taiyue.
Yesterday's painting of the middle-aged man was also completed. The piece being painted today was an elderly man in his sixties—Fu Taiyue himself.
This time, he still had not painted the hands.
Li Banfeng looked at Fu Taiyue's own hands. They were clasped behind his back, hidden within his sleeves, showing nothing unusual from the outside.
Judging from the previous two encounters, Fu Taiyue was deep and guarded. Building a slope was something one could never rush.
Li Banfeng set up his desk and painted quietly. After waiting over an hour, Fu Taiyue spoke:
"Ten years, only to exchange for a single tier of cultivation. The road of cultivation is truly too arduous."
Li Banfeng responded, "Isn't every pathway like that?"
Fu Taiyue sighed. "Yet the art of painting knows no bounds. I have only just begun my journey, but my life has already reached its end."
Hearing this, Li Banfeng felt slightly relieved; Fu Taiyue clearly hadn't reached above the clouds.
"Elder Fu, your painting art is already extraordinarily high."
"I painted so many portraits for that mountain spirit. The mountain spirit told me that only by going to a land of extreme yin can one grasp the supreme realm of painting. Do you dare go?"
Fu Taiyue was finally revealing critical information.
When Li Banfeng had visited Fu Taiyue's home, he had indeed seen the mountain spirit he painted; it was rendered with magnificent grandeur.
Did the mountain spirit send him here?
Looking at the scroll, Fu Taiyue repeated, "A land of extreme yin—do you dare go?"
Li Banfeng said, "I am still far from such a realm. Elder Fu has already reached it; I imagine you would surely dare go."
Looking at his painting, Fu Taiyue added another line: "Yet the mountain spirit also said that entering a land of extreme yin means a nine-in-ten chance of death."
Taking the opportunity, Li Banfeng asked, "Which mountain spirit are you speaking of? And where exactly is this land of extreme yin?"
Fu Taiyue spoke to his painting once more: "So what if it's a nine-in-ten chance of death? You are already at such an age. If you don't go now, you won't have another chance in this life.
"Yet that place is too peculiar. Even if I want to go, I may not be able to."
Li Banfeng said nothing more.
He was contemplating something.
Just who was Fu Taiyue talking to?
From the current situation, Fu Taiyue was incessantly speaking to his own portrait. He had to be talking to himself.
Reflecting on the previous days, could he have been talking to himself this entire time?
Gazing intently at the painting, Fu Taiyue continued, "The mountain spirit said that mountain is coming soon. Will you go, or not?"
That mountain is coming?
A mountain can move?
The portrait on the painting spoke. He was speaking to Fu Taiyue: "That mountain came at the wrong time. Early spring brings so much rain!"
Fu Taiyue shook his head. "It wasn't raining when I climbed the mountain."
The portrait said, "Yet the moment you reached the summit, the torrential rain wouldn't stop!"
What happens when it rains?
Fu Taiyue said, "I could have avoided it, but I've grown old. My eyes are dim, and my limbs are clumsy."
The portrait sighed. "If only you had gone down the mountain earlier."
"I wanted so badly to go down, but I couldn't find the way down the mountain. Once struck by their poison, you can never find the way down again."
The portrait said, "In truth, you had already run all the way to the foot of the mountain. If only you'd run another two or three li, you would have broken out completely."
Fu Taiyue said, "I wanted to break out, but I couldn't run anymore."
The portrait sighed. "You should have chopped off your hand back then. Losing a hand, you could have at least saved your life."
Fu Taiyue shook his head. "I cannot be without a hand. That is my right hand. Without my right hand, how could I paint?"
A cold wind blew in, and dark clouds gathered abruptly.
Rumble!
Thunder crashed with an explosive boom. Fu Taiyue looked at the portrait and said, "Let me paint your hands on. I can barely remember what you look like anymore. Once I can no longer remember you, I will be completely finished."
The portrait said nothing. Holding his brush, Fu Taiyue painted a pair of arms onto the scroll.
Li Banfeng wasn't certain if those were even arms. He saw no hands, no upper arms or forearms. All he saw was Fu Taiyue painting two segments of flesh onto the portrait's shoulders—swollen, twisted segments of meat.
The portrait said, "My hands do not look like this."
"Yet this is what my hand looks like..." Fu Taiyue's right hand emerged from his sleeve.
Fu Taiyue's hand was not a hand either. It was a segment of flesh identical to the one in the painting, devoid of skin, resembling a mass of flesh rotted long ago. Thick pus coated the meat, gluing the brush to it.
"With my hand turned into this, I can't even hide it," Fu Taiyue said expressionlessly. "It's over. This time, it's truly over."
Rumble! Thunder roared again!
Crash! Whoosh!
The rain fell.
"So thirsty! I need water!" Fu Taiyue threw back his head, opening his mouth, greedily drinking the rainwater.
The portrait cried out, "Don't drink it! Don't drink it!"
Having swallowed the rainwater, Fu Taiyue's head swelled rapidly. His hair and beard fell out in an instant; his eyes and ears dropped to the ground.
His body swelled along with his head, his skin splitting in layer after layer. Fat, blood, and flesh surged out along the ruptures, quickly blanketing his entire frame.
In less than a minute, Fu Taiyue was beyond recognition. His entire body was enveloped in purulent blood and grease. On his spherical head, nothing remained but a single gaping mouth, shrieking toward Li Banfeng.
"Skreeeech!"
The screech was piercing and shrill; Li Banfeng genuinely feared it might harm the Thread-Hook Earring.
What monster was this?
Was this an illusion conjured by Fu Taiyue using his scrolls?
Li Banfeng's figure vanished in an instant. He intended to test the opponent with the Fleeting Glance technique.
Fu Taiyue stood frozen in place. He did not track Li Banfeng's movements, nor did he appear to take any damage from Fleeting Glance.
"Skreeeech!"
Fu Taiyue roared once more.
The Judge's Brush suddenly cried out, "A ghost! A Daolao ghost!"
What on earth was a Daolao ghost?
Woooo-ooogh! Woooo-ooogh!
Li Banfeng heard the blare of a steam whistle. The companion dwelling was urging him to return!
Pffft!
Fu Taiyue opened his mouth and spat a plume of black mist toward Li Banfeng.
"Dodge!" the Judge's Brush yelled.
Without needing the Judge's Brush to warn him, Li Banfeng had already dodged away. That black mist was bound to be poisonous.
"Hold your breath! Go!" The Judge's Brush carried Li Banfeng airborne.
Holding his breath, Li Banfeng was still thinking about how to capture or eliminate this monster.
This was his territory; he couldn't let this "Dao-whatever ghost" ravage it.
The Judge's Brush flew for a short stretch as the rain grew heavier. Fu Taiyue suddenly leaped up from among the trees, spewing another burst of black mist toward Li Banfeng.
The Judge's Brush dodged with all its might, keeping the black mist from touching Li Banfeng.
The moment Fu Taiyue touched the ground, he sprang up again, swinging his sausage-like arm of flesh to slam into Li Banfeng.
The monster was remarkably swift, and the Judge's Brush wasn't agile enough. Seeing that they couldn't evade in time, Li Banfeng let go of the Judge's Brush and dropped to the ground.
A Daolao ghost appeared ahead. Was this still Fu Taiyue?
"Skreeeech—"
From the underbrush leapt another Daolao ghost.
"Skreeeech—"
Another dropped down from the trees.
Li Banfeng felt the mud shifting beneath his feet and swiftly moved aside.
A fleshy appendage burst from the earth, and another Daolao ghost burrowed out of the mud.
"Skreeeech—" Shrieks echoed across the mountains and wilderness, deafening and relentless.
Were all of these Dao-whatever ghosts?
Dao-whatever ghost...
Li Banfeng recalled the words the cart driver had once told him: "Yangcha Mountain has a Daogui Ridge. Walk a single li along that ridge, and not only will you fulfill your cultivation requirement, you'll also bank an entire extra day of lifespan."
This was Daogui Ridge?
How could Daogui Ridge have appeared here?
Chapter 475