At noon, having finished his lunch, Dick Chen sat quietly waiting in the courtyard of a commoner's house.
The rickshaw puller asked, "Just how long do you plan to wait? You've cost me a whole day's work. You have to make up for my fare."
Dick Chen nodded. "I'm a man who believes in fairness. I won't short you a single copper. I'm waiting for my warriors here. Once they've all gathered, we set out."
"You have warriors here?" The puller was surprised. "You have people in Tiemenbao?"
"That depends on how you define Tiemenbao," Dick Chen smiled. "If you only count the canyon where the Dwelling Cultivators live, I have people there too, though not many. But if you include all the surrounding villages within Tiemenbao's bounds, then I actually have quite a few."
The puller nodded. "It's good that you have men. Let me make things clear first: Tiemenbao has a local spirit. With my level of cultivation, if I act rashly inside the fort, I'll draw the local spirit out. A mighty dragon cannot crush a local snake; I won't get any advantage against a local spirit, and you'll suffer for it too. So when it comes to this, I cannot take the initiative to attack."
Dick Chen was already prepared for this. "There's a patch of woods east of Tiemenbao. All you need to do is provide backup in those woods. If I enter the forest, it proves something went wrong. You are to eliminate all pursuers behind me and ensure I get away safely."
The puller nodded. "That's simple enough."
While they spoke, people began arriving at the gate one after another. Dick Chen waved to them, and the newcomers entered the yard, standing respectfully beside him.
There were men and women, old and young. Among them was a Dwelling Cultivator named Jin Yuankang, who was considered a person of some status in Tiemenbao.
Dick Chen asked Jin Yuankang, "Old Jin, did you try to persuade them?"
Jin Yuankang sighed. "I did, but they wouldn't listen. They kept saying..."
"No need to say more." Dick Chen had no interest in hearing the process; he only wanted results.
By one o'clock, thirty people in total had arrived in the yard.
Dick Chen stood in the center of the courtyard and addressed the crowd: "My name is Chen Weixin. Most of you know me. Back then, through layers of screening, I selected you, putting you on the path of chasing the light, on the path of rebuilding Puluo Province. You gained a new life, and you gained faith. Today, we are about to fight our first battle for that faith! We are going to clean out every rotten force that blocks Puluo Province's progress. If any among you are afraid, you may speak up right now. I will let you leave without holding it against you in the slightest. We are comrades sharing a common ideal. Among us, there is only fairness and willing dedication; there will never be coercion or force!"
Upon hearing this, everyone remained expressionless. In their resolute gazes, there was not the slightest flinching or hesitation.
To the rickshaw puller, such gazes were utterly incomprehensible.
He cast his gaze toward the doorway, seemingly noticing something amiss.
He spotted an extraordinary spiderweb faintly shimmering outside the gate. Even as a cultivator above the clouds, the puller had to strain his eyes to see it, while the others in the yard couldn't see it at all.
If anyone chose to leave, they would inevitably have to exit through the main gate, where they would certainly become ensnared in the web. What would happen once trapped would depend entirely on how Great Detective Daboynes dealt with them.
With everyone present, Dick Chen led his group out. The puller went ahead to keep watch in the woods. Daboynes gathered up his web and awaited Dick Chen's orders.
Dick Chen instructed, "Stay here and safeguard the spear. If I fail to capture Tiemenbao, leave with the spear immediately."
Daboynes bowed respectfully and watched Dick Chen's party depart.
The thirty men followed Dick Chen to the entrance of Tiemenbao. The fort's steam gate was tightly shut, and atop the lintel as well as along the valley's two flanks, Dwelling Cultivators mounted a vigilant defense.
Outside the gate of Tiemenbao lay a boundary line paved with lime, located a full hundred meters from the iron gate.
For Dwelling Cultivators, who were relatively rigid and dogmatic in their ways, gauging the opportune moment to strike was rather difficult. However, setting a clear boundary made things much more intuitive and straightforward: the moment anyone crossed the line, the Dwelling Cultivators would strike back immediately.
Seeing Dick Chen approaching at the head of a group, Wu Yongchao ordered everyone to prepare for battle. One person pointed at Jin Yuankang and said to Wu Yongchao, "Old Jin is on their side."
Wu Yongchao froze. "Isn't Old Jin sick? Wasn't he resting at home? When did he go outside?"
The crowd exchanged glances, unable to answer. Standing outside the gate, Dick Chen began shouting: "Brothers and sisters of Tiemenbao! I am Chen Weixin. In coming here today, I do not wish to bring war, nor do I wish to bring slaughter. I want to bring you light! I want to give Tiemenbao a new beginning, a complete remake and revolution! I will bring true happiness and prosperity to Tiemenbao, returning the light that originally belonged to this world to every single person in Tiemenbao!"
Dick Chen spoke with great charisma. However, most of the Dwelling Cultivators couldn't quite grasp his words. To be precise, they understood every single word, but strung together, the message was difficult for them to comprehend.
Dick Chen continued: "My brothers and sisters, from this day forth, I, Chen Weixin, am your Fort Master! Every hardship you have endured can be poured out to me. I will spend the rest of my life healing the wounds within your hearts. I am willing to become your father, the father of all Tiemenbao, cherishing every person in Tiemenbao like my very own flesh and blood! Please open the gate now to welcome your future, welcome your new life, and welcome your new Fort Master!"
With that, Dick Chen took a step forward.
He was only three steps away from the hundred-meter line. Dick Chen took two steps forward; the Dwelling Cultivators made no response.
On the third step, Dick Chen stepped right over the boundary. Before his foot even touched the ground, a fletched arrow flew straight toward his face.
Dick Chen dodged the arrow and took a step back.
The arrow had been shot by Wu Yongchao.
A second arrow was nocked to the string, still aimed at Dick Chen's head.
Dick Chen shouted, "I am Chen Weixin! I am your Fort Master! Why do you aim your weapons at your new Fort Master?!"
Wu Yongchao replied, "Tiemenbao has only one Fort Master! The Fort Master of Tiemenbao isn't named Chen Weixin! The people of Tiemenbao only obey the Fort Master's word!"
These were the rules of Tiemenbao—the three iron laws established by Li Banfeng. These words the Dwelling Cultivators understood clearly.
Dick Chen said, "I am your Fort Master right now, because I am here and your Fort Master is not!"
Wu Yongchao retorted, "Whether the Fort Master is here or not, he is our Fort Master. While alive, he's our Fort Master; if he dies and becomes a ghost, he's still our Fort Master!"
Dick Chen frowned. "What kind of reasoning is that?"
Wu Yongchao laid out the logic for Dick Chen: "When getting into bed, you must know your wife. When getting out of bed, you must know your shoes. When leaving the fort, you must know the way back. And when entering the fort, you must know the Fort Master! We know our Fort Master, and nothing else you say matters. Take one more step forward, and we'll take your life today!"
One must never underestimate these Dwelling Cultivators. Back when they followed Zhou Anju, they had already displayed some combat capability. Later, Li Banfeng invited the bandits from Feiying Mountain over, and with the enthusiastic cooperation of those bandits, the Dwelling Cultivators had been drilled into a relatively high level of combat readiness.
Hidden in the shadows, Li Banfeng was thoroughly satisfied with the Dwelling Cultivators' current performance.
Dick Chen gauged the distance to the steam gate with his eyes and gestured for his men to charge forward with him.
His subordinates followed behind him, yet still hesitated somewhat. Dick Chen rolled his eyes upward, closed his eyelids, and then swiftly opened them again. His thirty subordinates performed the exact same motion—first closing their eyes, then opening them. Once their eyes opened, all hesitation was gone. Heads held high, they marched toward the steam gate in lockstep.
What was going on? Li Banfeng couldn't quite make sense of this scene. Was Dick Chen a mind cultivator who had taken control of his subordinates' thoughts? That seemed possible. Of course, the great iron gate was too far away; a mind cultivator's technique shouldn't be able to reach the Dwelling Cultivators behind it.
Wu Yongchao ordered a counterattack. Since Dwelling Cultivators at tiers one and two had no fixed techniques, low-tier Dwelling Cultivators used all sorts of different fighting styles. Anyone with ranged combat means struck out in succession: some used bows and arrows like Wu Yongchao, some threw darts, some used slingshots, and some simply hurled rocks.
The tactics looked crude, but their lethality was far from small. Back when dealing with the Feiying Mountain bandits, Wu Yongchao had never missed a shot, piercing heads every time. Today, however, his arrows weren't so accurate. To be precise, the enemies dodged exceptionally fast; arrows grazed their cheeks and injured their flesh, but simply failed to strike vital spots.
It was the same for the others. Leading his thirty subordinates, Dick Chen quickly reached the iron gate.
Wu Yongchao ordered the steam valves opened. Scalding steam blasted forth, blistering the skin and rotting the flesh of the enemies in the front row. Yet they seemed oblivious to pain. One after another, they rushed before the steam gate, gripping the smooth, boiling-hot metal door panels with bare hands, attempting to haul the steam gate open.
Was this because their cultivation was too high and they had prepared ample defenses? That shouldn't be; they were clearly injured. Li Banfeng noticed that many of them were quite severely hurt, yet none showed the reaction an injured person should have.
These thirty people were strange. They were real human beings, yet they didn't seem quite real. They had definitely fallen under Dick Chen's technique, but this seemed somewhat different from a mind cultivator's skill.
What happened next was even stranger. The steam gate was driven by a steam engine, and its exterior surface didn't even have handholds. Yet without seeming to exert much force, these thirty people actually pulled the gate open!
*Creeeak!*
A gap split open in the steam gate.
Tiemenbao's strongest defense was breached just like that?
Wu Yongchao was shocked and urgently told the craft cultivators to ramp up the steam engine's fire.
The craft cultivators shouted, "The pressure gauge is about to burst, but the gate itself isn't doing any work!"
Not doing any work? What did that mean? Wu Yongchao didn't understand craft cultivation methods and couldn't make sense of the craft cultivators' explanation, so he could only direct the other Dwelling Cultivators to hold the gate with everything they had.
Amid the chaos, as Dick Chen and his followers were about to storm into the fort, Li Banfeng, hidden on the hillside, took out his teapot and splashed a pot of tea toward the enemy.
As the tea hit the ground, a barrier formed, with tea surging upward from the earth.
The teapot's trait was extraordinarily effective against low-tier cultivators, but blocking Dick Chen would be exceedingly difficult. Li Banfeng merely wanted to buy some time for the Dwelling Cultivators so they could mount their next response.
The Dwelling Cultivators soon calmed down. Since the gate had fallen, they had to prepare for street fighting. Cultivators of the fourth tier and above swiftly brought out stone carvings, clay figurines, and painted scrolls, readying their Golden House for a Hidden Beauty technique.
Yet Li Banfeng had not expected the old teapot's barrier to be broken so quickly. Soaked in boiling tea, the thirty enemies had the flesh scalded off below their ankles until bone showed through. But just like when they forced open the steam gate, they pressed their hands against the barrier until it slowly dissipated.
How had the barrier disappeared? It certainly wasn't smashed by these thirty-odd people. Before Li Banfeng could fathom the reason, he suddenly saw the teapot fly into the air, its spout aiming straight at him.
"Rebelling, are you, old bastard!" The glove acted first, swallowing the teapot into its belly.
The teapot's sudden betrayal was something Li Banfeng had never anticipated in the slightest.
Looking down at the fort, Dick Chen was leading his subordinates inside. Female Dwelling Cultivator Li Zhijuan was manipulating a cloth doll she had sewn, joining a throng of stone statues and clay figurines in a fierce clash against the enemy. These Dwelling Cultivators were all proficient in the Golden House for a Hidden Beauty technique, and initially they held the absolute upper hand.
Before long, however, the cloth doll, stone statues, and clay figurines all ceased moving.
Li Zhijuan and a group of Dwelling Cultivators froze as well.
Wu Yongchao had intended to animate the beauty on his scroll to fight the enemy, but he noticed something was wrong.
Any puppet touched by the enemy stopped moving.
The puppet's master stopped moving as well.
In all of this, the enemies hadn't displayed any sophisticated combat skills; they simply reached out their hands and touched them.
With the battle turning sour, tactics had to be changed immediately. Li Banfeng pulled out a brass gong and began sprinting along the cliffside, beating it as he ran.
He moved too fast for anyone to discern his form, but they could hear the clanging of the gong.
Once they heard the gong, all Dwelling Cultivators were to retreat into their homes and defend. This was a rule Li Banfeng had set down in the fort.
Wu Yongchao still didn't know who had ordered the gong sounded, but the surrounding Dwelling Cultivators had already mostly retreated. With no other choice, he could only withdraw toward his house. As he reached his doorway, an enemy grabbed him from behind.
This was right at his front door; Wu Yongchao should have been able to easily break free, yet he stood frozen at the entrance.
Even his dwelling spirit grew frantic, crying out hoarsely, "Child, what are you doing? Come inside quickly!"
Li Banfeng, sprinting along the cliff edge, was just about to leap down to save him when the glove shouted, "Master, don't go! I've recognized his pathway—this guy is a Sleep Cultivator!"
Dick Chen is a Sleep Cultivator?
Li Banfeng asked, "You mean he controlled these people with dreams?"
"Master, dreams are dreams, and sleep is sleep! Dreams govern the mind, while sleep governs the body—they're two completely different things! His men, including himself, are all asleep! Once asleep, they fall under his control. These sleeping people have no stray thoughts; their reactions are fast, their strikes are vicious, and they feel no pain. The nastiest part is, as long as you touch them, you fall asleep too!"
Li Banfeng said, "Li Zhijuan didn't touch the enemy either. She only used the Golden House for a Hidden Beauty technique—why did she fall asleep as well?"
"Master, some techniques transmit force! Any technique that transmits force is countered by Sleep Cultivators. Our old teapot turned traitor just now because force was transmitted through the technique, placing it under the Sleep Cultivator's control!"
"Sleep Cultivator techniques can even control magical treasures?"
"More than that! Master, that gate in the fort fell asleep too!"
The gate? The steam gate?
That thing had no spirituality; it was purely mechanical.
A Sleep Cultivator could make machinery fall asleep?
This pathway was defying all reason.
More and more people in the fort fell asleep. Dick Chen continued advancing into its depths, with Dwelling Cultivators standing along the road one by one like clay sculptures. In plain sight, Dick Chen was about to reach the Fort Master's mansion.
Li Banfeng let out a roar: "Hu-ya-ya-ya~"
He wanted to use his wife's Sound Cultivator technique to awaken the Dwelling Cultivators who had fallen into slumber.
Yet the Dwelling Cultivators didn't wake.
The glove advised, "Master, yelling at them is useless! Even boiling water couldn't wake them up. You have to find a way to wake the Sleep Cultivator!"
Li Banfeng moved closer to Dick Chen and cried out again: "Hu-ya-ya-ya~"
Dick Chen paused in his tracks, his expression twisting slightly, but he still didn't wake.
Even his wife's Sound Cultivator technique couldn't wake him up. Just how high was this man's tier?
Or was the Sound Cultivator technique ineffective against him?
The music box vibrated ceaselessly in his pocket; she wanted to give it a try.
He had almost forgotten—the music box's abilities likely originated from a Sleep Cultivator.
Li Banfeng wound the music box and approached Dick Chen with it. Although Dick Chen was asleep, his fundamental reflexes were sharper than when awake. Exercising extreme caution, Li Banfeng played a tune with the music box.
This melody was specifically meant to wake people up. Halfway through the tune, Dick Chen showed no reaction whatsoever.
The music box's tier was insufficient; it couldn't wake Dick Chen either.
The Tang dao spoke up: "Lord, provide cover for me, and I'll chop this rogue in two!"
Li Banfeng shook his head. "You can't go. If he takes control of you, I'm afraid the glove won't be able to retrieve you."
"Director Seven, perhaps I can fight!" the projector volunteered.
The glove said, "Ji, you definitely can't go. They're asleep; illusions have no effect on them."
"I won't use illusions, I'll use my withering technique."
The glove replied, "I think that withering technique of yours still transmits force. It'll definitely be controlled by the Sleep Cultivator as well."
Whose technique didn't transmit force?
The liquor gourd said, "Little brother, my technique doesn't transmit force. Splashed liquor is splashed liquor—once it's out, it has nothing more to do with me."
That was true enough, but what then after splashing the liquor? Set it ablaze? Burn the Dwelling Cultivators and Tiemenbao down together? Li Banfeng had no intention of doing that.
The liquor gourd didn't forget to offer another idea: "Let Mengde try. She's a Dream Cultivator, which holds some counter over Sleep Cultivators."
A Dream Cultivator could manipulate dreams, so perhaps she could influence Dick Chen to some degree.
But how much influence?
The glove wasn't optimistic: "Master, this Sleep Cultivator's tier is too high. Even the First Lady's technique couldn't wake him. What use could Mengde be?"
The pendulum chimed in, "Could his tier possibly be higher than the First Lady's?"
Li Banfeng assessed the battle. More and more Dwelling Cultivators had fallen asleep, though many had managed to flee back into their homes. The sleepers were spreading like zombies. Whether it was the Dwelling Cultivators themselves or the puppets in their hands, as long as they touched Dick Chen or his men, they would stand stiffly upright in the middle of the road.
The first few Dwelling Cultivators infected had already joined the invaders' ranks, marching toward the Fort Master's mansion.
Yet there were only those few.
The others had simply fallen asleep and did not join Dick Chen in battle. Why was that?
The number was limited!
Why had Dick Chen brought only thirty subordinates? Was it because men were hard to find?
If he brought three hundred subordinates, put them all to sleep, made them oblivious to pain and fear, and had them storm Tiemenbao en masse, how could anyone resist?
He could put everything around him to sleep, even the steam iron gate. With an ability like that, why didn't he build a mechanical army of tens of thousands?
That he didn't do so proved he couldn't.
Thirty people was likely his limit. A few more might be manageable, but beyond that, newly converted sleepers wouldn't fight for Dick Chen; they would simply lapse into deep slumber.
And what if the numbers increased even further?
Time to run an experiment.
Li Banfeng returned to the companion dwelling and retrieved a stack of paper figures.
These paper figures were printed, costing little effort to make, of poor quality, and weak in combat.
Li Banfeng had no intention of having them fight anyway. He tossed them casually among the enemies without exercising even the most basic control, leaving them to their own devices.
The moment he controlled them, the force-transmitting phenomenon mentioned by the glove would occur—in simple terms, maintaining a connection with the figures. So long as the slightest connection remained, he could be dragged into slumber right alongside them.
Over two hundred paper figures were thrown out. Upon touching the enemies, they all fell into slumber.
Li Banfeng threw out another hundred-odd figures. Roughly eighty fell asleep, while a dozen or so remained awake.
He threw out thirty more; not a single one fell asleep.
Dick Chen had reached his limit. He could not force any more people into slumber.
Li Banfeng formed a rough estimate of Dick Chen's cultivation.
*His tier is definitely higher than Mengde's and the music box's, but it can't possibly exceed my wife's. Her Sound Cultivator technique failed to wake him because it was constrained by my own cultivation, and Sleep Cultivators naturally guard against sound. Once fallen into slumber, Dick Chen's thinking capacity is visibly limited. Now that he can't put any more people to sleep, it's time to teach him a proper lesson.*
Li Banfeng first had the Tang dao run a test, slashing a strike toward the veteran Dwelling Cultivator Jin Yuankang.
If Jin Yuankang had retained his Dwelling Cultivator abilities, this slash might not have killed him. But right now, he was merely one of Dick Chen's many puppets. Like the other puppets, his reflexes were fast, but not faster than the Tang dao; his body was coarse, and incapable of withstanding the blade.
*Slash!*
A flash of cold light—the Tang dao cut in through his left shoulder and exited his right waist, cleaving Jin Yuankang clean in two.
On the verge of death, Jin Yuankang was abandoned by Dick Chen and broke free from slumber, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Carry me back to my house! There's still hope, there's still—"
*Crack!*
Li Banfeng stomped down, crushing Jin Yuankang's skull to pieces.
With Jin Yuankang dead, Dick Chen—who had hit his technique's ceiling—seemed to gain a sliver of capacity again. That was only natural, as he was now controlling one fewer sleeper. Li Banfeng pulled out a paper figure and tossed it among the enemies. The touched paper figure promptly fell asleep, immediately filling the slot Dick Chen had freed up.
Li Banfeng repeatedly unleashed Treading Ten Thousand Rivers. One after another, Dick Chen's subordinates were riddled like sieves. They truly felt no pain, but once their bones and flesh were shattered to pieces, they completely lost all fighting capability.
Li Banfeng swiftly closed in on Dick Chen. He intended to blow him up with Viewing Flowers from Horseback, but the technique failed to trigger.
Dick Chen was in a state of slumber, a very peculiar condition. He could react to Li Banfeng's actions, yet could not perceive Li Banfeng's presence; thus, the prerequisite for Viewing Flowers from Horseback was not met.
Any combat method involving direct contact was unsuitable, making Treading Ten Thousand Rivers the best option.
Li Banfeng put his full strength into this kick.
With a thunderous crash, a massive crater opened in the earth.
Dick Chen was stripped of a layer of skin. His originally resolute eyes lost focus for a moment before reconverging.
"I woke up?" he murmured in surprise.
"No, you're still asleep," Li Banfeng answered with utter sincerity.
"You're Li the Seventh?" Dick Chen couldn't quite wrap his head around it.
"Yes, I am Li the Seventh. I shouldn't be in Tiemenbao; I should be in Lüshui City. Therefore, you haven't woken up yet." Li Banfeng's figure vanished from sight.
Was he asleep or awake?
While Dick Chen hesitated in confusion, his chest exploded.
Viewing Flowers from Horseback!
He knew Li the Seventh was a tier-five journey cultivator and had to be on guard against Viewing Flowers from Horseback. While dreaming in sleep, he had nothing to fear, but once awake, it was a dire problem.
Evidently, he really had woken up just now, but for some reason, he had fallen into confusion.
That hesitation proved fatal. Clutching his shredded chest, Dick Chen bolted toward Tiemenbao's exit.
Now that he was awake, everyone in the fort who had fallen into slumber awoke as well.
A dozen or so of Dick Chen's men were still alive. Wu Yongchao shouted, "Kill them!"
The Dwelling Cultivators swarmed forward, clashing in melee against the remaining dozen-plus invaders.
Li Banfeng didn't concern himself with the battle inside the fort. Those Dwelling Cultivators would surely find a way to deal with the remaining dozen men; he devoted his full attention to pursuing Dick Chen.
Heavily wounded, Dick Chen did not lose his head. As he turned to flee, he once again plunged himself into slumber.
While asleep, Dick Chen's consciousness was clouded, making it difficult to process complex matters. Yet his focus was extraordinarily high, and he ran with astonishing speed.
Crucially, his technique of pulling others into slumber was active again. Around him, people once more fell into a coma-like sleep, forcing Li Banfeng to maintain a certain distance.
Dick Chen rushed out of Tiemenbao and sprinted toward the woods. Because his mind was clouded, only a single thought remained: he had to reach the woods; once in the woods, he would be safe.
*Rustle—*
Li Banfeng cast down a sweeping shower of paper figures, surrounding Dick Chen.
Li Banfeng's deduction had been spot on. Dick Chen's Sleep Cultivator technique had strict headcount limits: controlling combatants could not exceed thirty-five, while simply putting people to sleep could not exceed three hundred fifty.
Those three hundred fifty slots were entirely consumed by the paper figures. With another kick of Treading Ten Thousand Rivers, Li Banfeng forced Dick Chen awake once more.
Covered in wounds from head to toe, Dick Chen looked at Li Banfeng. "Allow me a word first. I came to Tiemenbao only to verify whether a weapon was genuine or not. This matter has nothing to do with you."
"Are you finished?" Li Banfeng prepared to strike immediately; he suspected there was an ambush in the woods.
Dick Chen said, "Wait a moment longer. If you keep attacking, I'll activate my technique again, and we'll only wear each other down for a long time. I don't know where you got those bizarre puppets, but they can't be infinite. If you slip up and fall to my technique, you know how severe the consequences will be. Just let me say a few words. Once I'm done, we each yield a step and go our separate ways—wouldn't that be a wonderful outcome?"
Li Banfeng nodded. "Go on, I'm listening."
Dick Chen was trying desperately to stall for time. He knew the puller was right inside the woods, but the man would only strike when the moment was right.
"Li the Seventh, your original name is Li Banfeng, correct? You're from the Outer States, and you took the Xuansheng Red Lotus, right?"
Li Banfeng's brow twitched. "How do you know that?"
Dick Chen smiled. "To explain this clearly, I first need to clarify my identity. Do you know who I am? I am a bishop of the Light Chasing Society, the one who brings light and faith to Puluo Province."
Light Chasing Society? Bishop?
Both terms were extremely rare in Puluo Province.
Dick Chen continued, "What we believe in is the light—the light capable of truly rebuilding Puluo Province. As an envoy of the light, I would love to recruit someone as outstanding as you into our society, to become our like-minded and intimate comrade."
"Those people who attacked Tiemenbao were your comrades too, right?" Li Banfeng smirked. "Doesn't look like being your comrade is such a great deal."
"They were too foolish and too weak; only tasks like that suited them. But you are different from them, Li the Seventh. You are truly powerful. You possess the strength to fight side by side with me."
Li Banfeng laughed. "Thinking so highly of me? How about this: introduce me to the big boss of your Light Chasing Society and all the major figures below him, and I'll see if I'm interested in joining you."
Dick Chen shook his head. "Joining us requires a rigorous process. We are not yet certain whether you meet the qualifications to join the Light Chasing Society. You still need some patience on that matter."
Li Banfeng chuckled. "Back then, you approached Ma the Fifth to do business, then turned around and claimed he wasn't qualified to partner with you. Now you invite me to join your Light Chasing Society, and turn right around to say I might not qualify. You're saying all this just to buy time, but your way of talking is truly begging for a beating."
The moment the words left his mouth, Li Banfeng's figure vanished.
*Bang!*
Viewing Flowers from Horseback took effect, blowing Dick Chen's legs apart.
The rickshaw puller still hadn't appeared; Dick Chen needed to keep stalling.
He rolled his eyes up, preparing to enter slumber. Li Banfeng let out a long bellow: "Hu-ya-ya-ya~"
If Dick Chen had already fallen asleep, waking him with this would have been difficult—Li Banfeng's deduction had been correct that Dick Chen had a technique to shut out sound. But Dick Chen wasn't asleep yet, and Li Banfeng's relentless shouting prevented him from drifting off.
In the blink of an eye, Li Banfeng flashed into view once more, and Dick Chen's belly burst open.
He wasn't sure if he could take another hit from Viewing Flowers from Horseback, but without entering slumber, he stood no chance in a fight against a high-tier journey cultivator...
*Bang!*
Dick Chen's neck blew apart.
Seeing him lying motionless on the ground, Li Banfeng hurriedly had the Tang dao step forward, scoop him up, and send him into the companion dwelling.
Dick Chen's consciousness still lingered; he gritted his teeth and held on.
The puller was almost here. Every second he endured meant another ounce of hope for victory!
...
At the marketplace in Tiemenbao, a man bought two sacks of rice. Carrying one in each hand was strenuous, and stacking both on his back felt unsteady.
As he passed the entrance of the marketplace, a puller called out, "Mister, need a ride?"
When had Tiemenbao ever had rickshaws?
The man had ventured out into the world before and possessed some experience. Looking up, he asked, "Brother, how did you end up pulling a rickshaw in a place like this?"
The puller smiled. "Traveled far from home, just passing through, figured I'd pick up some business along the way. Look how heavy your rice is—put it up on the rickshaw already!"
The man was hesitant. "Brother, I don't have much money on me."
The puller chuckled. "Money's flexible; just give whatever you can."
"Better give me a number!"
"Huan Country notes, three dollars. I'll take both you and the rice right to your doorstep. How does that sound?"
The man calculated for a good while before gritting his teeth and agreeing. He placed the two sacks of rice onto the rickshaw and climbed aboard himself.
Lifting the shafts, the puller set off down the country lane with brisk, cheerful strides.
Chapter 486