Out Peddling Again?

At the southern end of Huangtu Bridge stood the Yanghuitai Coal Yard. Back when Huangtu Bridge was still proper land, Yanghuitai had been a massive coal yard supporting dozens of coal merchants and tens of thousands of workers. Later, when the Star of Mourning took over Huangtu Bridge, the yard suffered dozens of consecutive accidents. Several mine shafts collapsed, killing and injuring many workers. Coal merchants dared not do business there anymore, and the yard gradually fell into ruin. Ma the Fifth was somewhat superstitious, so after taking over Huangtu Bridge, he never revived the Yanghuitai Coal Yard. Now, it had been occupied by this group of rickshaw pullers. The coachmen parked their rickshaws beside the yard and picked up weathered lumps of coal, tossing them under their carriage hoods. This coal had sat here for years, heavily weathered. Though it did not burn well, their hoods were hardly picky. In fact, to these rickshaws, even weathered coal was good stuff. When they had no coal to burn, they could burn firewood. If they lacked even firewood, gathering cloth scraps, waste paper, and dry leaves would do in a pinch. Two coachmen took headcount. They had started with eighty-five men in total, but eighteen had fallen in the clash with Li Banfeng, leaving just over sixty. Losing men was nothing to fear; they could always replenish their ranks. The crucial thing was that every single rickshaw had been recovered. A slight smile crossed the head coachman's face, and the men under him smiled as well. After their shared smile, the men shoveled coal into their rickshaws and took turns drawing water from the well. After stoking the boilers for over an hour, steam pressure inside the rickshaws reached the required level. Together, the coachmen lifted their heads toward the sky, opened their mouths into perfect circles, and let out long, piercing shrieks like steam whistles, each spewing plumes of white vapor. Tang Shijiang was thoroughly familiar with steam engines, so he knew they were releasing surplus steam to stabilize the pressure. Yet the process was baffling to witness. If coal was being burned in the rickshaws, why were the coachmen the ones venting the steam? Once the steam pressure was released, the head coachman climbed into his rickshaw and fell asleep. The other coachmen climbed into theirs as well, falling asleep one by one. Silence settled over the coal yard, leaving only a few coachmen pulling their rickshaws on patrol around the perimeter. Though few in number, their patrol was exceptionally meticulous. The first ring patrolled the perimeter of the yard itself; the second patrolled among the residential houses surrounding the yard; and the third patrolled the main thoroughfares leading to the site. Three rings of sentries maintained a tight watch, leaving virtually no blind spots. After resting for a short while, the head coachman suddenly snapped awake. He saw a coachman pulling a rickshaw into the yard, stopping right in front of him. The coachman pointed off into the distance, seemingly delivering a report. The head coachman said nothing. After waiting a moment, the coachman spoke up directly: "A villain just came by and snatched a brother's rickshaw. We reckon he was sent from Beiqiao." "A villain? Brother?" The head coachman smiled. Laughter immediately echoed from inside every rickshaw around them. The messenger lowered his voice. "Doesn't seem to have worked." Indeed, it had not. These coachmen possessed a unique method of communication that relied neither on gestures nor speech; his behavior just now had clearly betrayed him. "If it didn't work, so be it. We've made it this far anyway!" As soon as the words fell, Li Banfeng leaped out from under the hood. This rickshaw had been snatched by Li Banfeng. The one pulling it was Tang Shijiang, who had used his artisan techniques to alter his appearance. Sitting inside was Li Banfeng. Having reached this spot, it was time to strike. At this distance, he could hit the head coachman directly with his techniques. Yet the surrounding coachmen were already awake. Without waiting for a command from their leader, they crawled out of their rickshaws simultaneously, pushed their carts forward, and formed a ring formation, swiftly encircling Li Banfeng. While Li Banfeng clashed with the swarm of coachmen, Tang Shijiang stepped up to the head coachman. The head coachman stared at Tang Shijiang for a moment, seeing right through his disguise. "Senior Brother, when I went to Black Rock Slope to discuss Huangtu Bridge with you and begged for your help, I didn't press the matter, seeing how conflicted you were. "I know you have ties with Li the Seventh. Whether you helped me or not didn't matter; I wouldn't force you. But coming here today to cause trouble for me—that is where you cross the line. When we stand before our Master, we'll certainly have to hash this out." Tang Shijiang loosened his muscles. His originally hunched, towering frame slowly stretched to its full height. "I didn't quite catch what you meant just now. I do have a junior brother who pulls a rickshaw in Yaowanggou. I look down on him from the bottom of my heart, but since we hail from the same sect, I can't just toss that bond aside. "As for which sect you came from, I certainly can't tell. If your master wants to talk things through, invite him to Black Rock Slope. I'd love to meet him—and let him collect your corpse while he's at it." The corner of the head coachman's eye twitched. "Since you put it that way, consider all ties between us severed!" Tang Shijiang replied impatiently, "How can your skin be so thick? There was never any goodwill between us to begin with!" Before his voice died away, the head coachman charged forward pulling his rickshaw, launching a foot toward Tang Shijiang with Treading Ten Thousand Rivers. An iron shield materialized before Tang Shijiang, blocking the strike with ease. "I must say, the quality of this Treading Ten Thousand Rivers of yours really is quite similar to my junior brother's." The head coachman was taken aback. He hadn't seen where Tang Shijiang had pulled the iron shield from. For an artisan cultivator to strike so swiftly was exceedingly rare. Employing Riding the Wind and Charioting Clouds, the head coachman pulled his rickshaw into midair and rained a barrage of throwing javelins down toward the crown of Tang Shijiang's head. A sack sprouted from Tang Shijiang's head, sucking in every single javelin. Then, a long spear thrust out from the sack, stabbing straight at the head coachman's rickshaw. The head coachman twisted the handlebars to dodge the spear. The wheel axles spewed fire, sweeping toward Tang Shijiang. A section of water pipe extended from the back of Tang Shijiang's collar, blasting a torrent of water that forced the flames back. The water splashed over the rickshaw's frame, sending up dense billows of white steam. The head coachman dodged desperately with his rickshaw. Dousing the vehicle with water lowered its temperature, which was catastrophic for a steam engine. Yet the jet of water was hard to avoid, chasing after the rickshaw as if it had eyes. Unable to shake it off, the head coachman braved the spray, circled behind Tang Shijiang, and lashed out with his right foot to unleash Treading Ten Thousand Rivers once more. *Bang!* The moment his sole touched down, a row of iron spikes sprouted from the earth, impaling his right foot. A searing pain tore through the head coachman, aborting his technique before it could unleash its power. *When did he lay these traps?* *How can an artisan technique be used so discreetly?* In that split second of shock, the spikes through his foot swiftly twisted into knots, pinning his right foot securely to the ground. A massive saber came chopping down toward his head from an unknown angle, leaving the coachman no choice but to rely on Carefree and Unfettered to barely dodge. Having evaded the blade, an axe suddenly sprouted from Tang Shijiang's back, sweeping horizontally across the head coachman's waist. With no room to dodge, the giant axe tore an open gash across his belly. Seeing saber and axe hacking down once more, the coachman used Carefree and Unfettered to shift his right foot, forcibly wrenching it free from the iron spikes, and swiftly opened up distance from Tang Shijiang. Locking his gaze on Tang Shijiang, he prepared to activate Viewing Flowers from Horseback. More than a dozen mirrors of various sizes burst out around Tang Shijiang, reflecting hundreds of figures. Gazing through the gaps between the mirrors, the coachman was dazzled, unable to tell which silhouette was the real one. Viewing Flowers from Horseback failed to take effect. The head coachman heaved his rickshaw and smashed one of the mirrors to pieces. The mirror shards transformed into a silver dragon that pursued him relentlessly from behind, every single fragment embedding itself into his body without missing a single hit. Throughout the fight so far, had Tang Shijiang dodged even a single step, the coachman could have used the innate advantage of a traveler cultivator to crush his opponent in a single breath. Yet Tang Shijiang had not moved a single step. He stood firmly in place, countering every move, meeting the head coachman head-on at every clash. Such was a disciple of Old Train: unyielding bones, unyielding methods. Turning the handlebars and pushing his cart forward, the coachman charged up to Tang Shijiang once more. A pair of shears thrust out from under the hood—a direct challenge to see how Tang Shijiang would defend. Tang Shijiang donned a pair of iron gauntlets. His right hand seized the shears and twisted them right off the hood, while his left hand ripped the carriage covering open and severed a pipe nestled inside. *Hiss!* A tremendous roar burst from the rickshaw, and the frame began to tremble uncontrollably. Such was the seasoned experience of a top artisan cultivator. When Tang Shijiang had sprayed water earlier and seen the vapor rise, he had gauged the temperature across different parts of the vehicle by the varying density of the steam. Tracing the temperature gradients, Tang Shijiang pinpointed the location of the steam pipe. Wearing his iron gauntlets, he had torn it right out. With the steam pipe severed, pressure plummeted precipitously, and the coachman's speed dropped with it. Under these circumstances, continuing to fight Tang Shijiang was tantamount to suicide. The head coachman tried to flee with his rickshaw, but Tang Shijiang seized the back of the carriage hood, giving chase in tight pursuit. The moment the coachman slowed down, Tang Shijiang could dismantle the rickshaw piece by piece. Yet with the steam pipe leaking, going faster was simply impossible. At this life-or-death juncture, the coachman blew a rapid series of whistles, summoning his subordinates to his aid. No tactical layout was needed, nor any spoken command. With just a single whistle, the coachmen who had been locked in combat with Li Banfeng shifted formation instantly, surging forward to intercept Tang Shijiang. Their shared awareness in altering tactics remained unified as one. Every single man held only one thought in mind: to do everything in their power to stall Tang Shijiang and rescue their leader. Yet while their intent was unified, their execution ran into trouble. Tang Shijiang tossed twenty screws onto the ground. These screws scurried across the dirt like living creatures, darting toward the rickshaw wheels. Each screw latched onto a wheel, piercing through the spokes and the hood, locking the wheel tight. Of the sixty-odd coachmen, over forty quickly adjusted their formation, but twenty fell out of step. Unable to push their carts, their movements lagged behind. The greatest danger to a fire chariot formation was a lack of unified movement. Falling behind meant these twenty men were isolated from the formation. The coachmen pulled tools from their carts, trying to pry out the screws locking their wheels. But Li Banfeng gave them no chance. Flashing through their disorganized lines, he slaughtered all twenty men in an instant. Losing so many men in a single stroke severely crippled the combat strength of the formation. Yet the head coachman had no other choice. With Tang Shijiang still gripping the back of his carriage, he could only order the men to fight to the death. Tang Shijiang possessed plenty of screws, but he used no more than twenty. This was Old Train's formation, an art Tang Shijiang understood inside and out. His sole aim was to let part of the carts move while pinning the rest, using his methods to force a flaw into the formation. This was the tactic the two had agreed upon: the moment a flaw appeared, Li Banfeng would strike immediately. Leaping through the formation for a brief moment, he slew another twenty coachmen. Only twenty-odd coachmen remained. Maintaining the formation required at least twenty men; if Li Banfeng continued killing, the formation would collapse entirely. The head coachman blew his whistle once more, but this time he did not order them to alter the formation. He ordered them to stand their ground without moving, and unleash Sever Path to Open a Road in unison. This was their final option, an act of sheer desperation. As Tang Shijiang gave chase behind the cart, an earthen wall abruptly rose before his eyes, blocking his path. Severing a path to forge a way could clear an avenue, but it could naturally block one as well. A single earthen wall meant little to Tang Shijiang. He smashed right through it and kept pursuing. Yet with over twenty coachmen channeling their strength together, more than twenty earthen walls erupted in succession. By the time Tang Shijiang battered through the tenth wall, his momentum had slowed. Using Unimpeded Passage all the way, the head coachman charged outward, shaking Tang Shijiang off his tail. He had won himself an opportunity to escape, but at a grievous price. For the remaining twenty-odd coachmen, standing still to channel their techniques was practically handing their heads to Li Banfeng. Li Banfeng naturally did not hold back. Leaving none alive, he butchered the lot and turned to chase after the head coachman. The head coachman burst out of the coal yard, rallied the five sentry coachmen patrolling outside, and fled for his life with everything he had. Out of the entire band, only these five men had survived. Together with himself, these five were the sole remaining hope for this mission. They had not fled far when a bamboo grove abruptly appeared ahead, blocking their path. *Where did this bamboo grove come from?* The bamboo grew thick and dense. For a solitary traveler cultivator, it wouldn't pose much of an obstacle—a few weaving steps would carry them straight through. Yet for these coachmen, the grove was troublesome. A person could slip through, but the rickshaws could not. Chuanzi and Xiao Genzi hid inside the grove, watching the commotion outside. Chuanzi asked in a whisper, "Genzi, who did you learn this trick from? What stage of cultivation are you at now?" Xiao Genzi chuckled. "We stepped onto our pathways together, brother. Don't you already know what stage I'm at?" Back when he created the home projector, Chuanzi's artisan methods had earned widespread recognition across Puluo Province, giving his cultivation a massive surge. Combined with the occasional medicinal pills Li Banfeng rewarded him with, he was now a fourth-layer artisan cultivator. He had assumed Xiao Genzi's cultivation would surely lag behind his, reaching the third layer at best. Yet tonight, Chuanzi realized he had underestimated Genzi. With a single sack of seeds and a bucket of night soil, Xiao Genzi had sprouted an entire bamboo grove in just over ten minutes—a feat that had left even Ma the Fifth marveling in wonder. Wonder aside, now was no time for idle chatter. "Stay sharp, they're entering the grove!" The head coachman had initially wanted to skirt around the bamboo grove, but a quick look revealed the forest was vast. With Li Banfeng closing in rapidly, going around was impossible. He had no choice but to force his way in using Sever Path to Open a Road. Shielding Chuanzi, Ma the Fifth and Genzi began laying traps along the path. As a fourth-layer artisan cultivator, Chuanzi's methods were inherently limited against cultivators above the clouds. Yet Chuanzi had prepared thoroughly, bringing along many prefabricated traps that took root the moment they touched the ground. The head coachman was in poor shape. Though he had forcibly plugged the steam pipe, hardly any pressure remained, and his stamina was running thin. After weaving through the grove for a short time, one of his coachmen plunged into a pitfall. Ma the Fifth unleashed a joy cultivator technique, driving the man into such frantic anxiety that his blood vessels burst. Another coachman was struck down by tumbling boulders. Before he could get up, Genzi doused him with a bucket of night soil. Both man and cart were corroded together, quickly perishing. Li Banfeng pursued them into the bamboo grove, dispatching two coachmen first before catching up with the head coachman on the other side of the grove. The head coachman stopped fleeing. He turned the rickshaw around, using it as a shield before him, and fixed his eyes intently upon Li Banfeng. He intended to fight a decisive duel. Li Banfeng waved behind him, signaling Ma the Fifth and the others to stay as far away as possible—far enough that they could not see the coachman, nor could the coachman see them. Otherwise, Viewing Flowers from Horseback might well drag them into the blast. The head coachman looked at Li Banfeng. "Brother, I truly never thought we'd reach this point." Li the Seventh sighed. "I didn't want things to go this far either. How about this: leave the cart behind, release Miss Qin, and we'll let the matter rest here." The head coachman laughed. "Brother, I've tumbled through the rivers and lakes for plenty of years. You take me for a greenhorn? If I put down the cart now, would you actually spare my life?" Li Banfeng smiled as well. "If you don't put it down, I won't spare your life either. Do you take me for a greenhorn? And who are you calling brother? Do I even know you?" The head coachman knew he could keep up the pretense no longer. If he stalled any further, Tang Shijiang would arrive, and any chance of escaping would vanish completely. "Let's compete right here. A single move, no fancy tricks. We'll use Viewing Flowers from Horseback. Right now, you're looking at me, and I'm looking at you. In a moment, we move together, and we'll see whose footwork is faster—and who wins their life!" Such was the rule laid down by the coachman: both sides locked their gazes on each other, then moved at the same time. Whichever party vanished from the other's line of sight first would trigger Viewing Flowers from Horseback, blowing the other to pieces. Li Banfeng had no real need to take such a gamble. His condition was far better than the head coachman's. Yet he agreed. "We are both fine lads under the traveler pathway," Li Banfeng said, staring at the head coachman. "Today, we'll fight fair and square right here!" The coachman nodded. "A gentleman's word cannot be overtaken by four galloping steeds. A fair duel, no regrets in life or death!" The two dropped into their stances, standing face-to-face. A chill wind swept past, kicking up a veil of sand, yet neither man blinked. The corner of the coachman's eye twitched, and his right foot lifted. Li Banfeng kicked off the ground, moving first. Just as he was about to leave the coachman's sight, the coachman unexpectedly stayed put, crouching down abruptly behind the carriage hood. It was a vile, insidious trick: Li Banfeng could no longer see him. Being unable to see meant he could not lock his gaze, leaving Li Banfeng incapable of activating Viewing Flowers from Horseback. Yet the carriage hood was equipped with a mechanism that could open a peephole, allowing the head coachman to lock onto Li Banfeng at any moment. A smirk curled upon the coachman's lips. The initiative was now his. All he needed to do was wait for the right moment to detonate Li Banfeng. Truth be told, the losses from this battle had been heavy, but if he could eliminate Li the Seventh, it would be an immense achievement. In the Inner States, he had heard whispers about Li the Seventh, all portraying him as an exceptionally thorny adversary. Having clashed with him in the flesh, he found Li the Seventh not only thorny, but ruthless. In a single battle, he had virtually wiped out the Fire Wheel Gang that the coachman had painstakingly built. Yet what of it? In the end, he was still an impetuous youngster who had no grasp of what a real duel was. He thought a duel was just a clash of foundations and luck. How could he fathom the layers of scheme and cunning, or the underhanded measures a true duel entailed? *Pfft!* A cold chill struck the head coachman's back. Turning his head, he saw a black-clad figure plunging a Tang dao straight through his heart. *Didn't we agree to a duel? Why did he bring an accomplice?* The Tang dao twisted and stirred within the coachman's body, mincing his internal organs to shreds. In an instant, the head coachman lost all ability to resist. Li Banfeng stepped up to the coachman and opened the door to the companion dwelling. "A duel? You're quite the comedian!" Li Banfeng hoisted the head coachman and hurled him into the companion dwelling. The cart was somewhat bulky and could not fit through the door. The old master chuckled. "Leave it to me." *Creak, crunch, groan—* A surge of invisible force swept forth. The rickshaw twisted and deformed, shoved through the doorway along with its master. Li Banfeng shut the door, returned to the bamboo grove, and hailed Ma the Fifth and the others. Ma the Fifth emerged alongside Chuanzi and Genzi. Chuanzi asked, "Where's that puller?" Li Banfeng said, "Taken care of. Disposed of the body too." Genzi chuckled. "Lord Seventh's work is always so crisp and clean. We were worried for you just now—I was even thinking of fashioning a couple of bamboo men to lend you a hand..." While they were joking, Ma the Fifth's face grew somber. He muttered to himself, "Something's wrong." "What's wrong?" "The count is wrong," Ma the Fifth calculated carefully. "Six entered the bamboo grove just now. Genzi and Chuanzi took down one, Chuanzi and I took down one, Old Seventh took down three. Where's the last one?" Li Banfeng started, immediately checking the surroundings. A pair of wheel ruts trailed off into the distance. "Not good. These people are unusual; we can't let a single one escape!" With how coordinated these coachmen were, Li Banfeng suspected they might be clones of some entity. He had heard Qiu Luoye speak of such a phenomenon before: an Inner Stater had turned into a house upon appearing in Puluo Province, and that single house soon multiplied into an entire neighborhood. The peddler had called it 'dropping a litter.' If Li Banfeng was right, letting one escape was equivalent to letting an entire nest go free. "Quick, after him!" Li Banfeng told Ma the Fifth. "Call in all our hands. We cannot let this person leave Huangtu Bridge!" He set off along the wheel tracks first, following them all the way from the coal yard to the bank of the Meisha River. An old man was dredging coal cinders from the water. Li Banfeng stepped forward and asked, "Did you see a rickshaw puller go by?" The old man nodded. "Saw him. Pulling his cart, scurrying frantically toward the east." Li Banfeng gave chase toward the east. After pursuing for a short distance, he spotted a woman pushing a cart and hawking wontons. "Elder Sister, did you see a rickshaw puller?" The woman pondered for a moment. "A puller went past just now. Looked like he went onto East Bridge!" Li Banfeng hurried over to East Bridge. Ahead of him, a peddler was crossing the bridge, rattling a pellet drum and pushing his goods cart. Li Banfeng asked, "Did you see a coachman come onto the bridge?" The peddler thought about it, then asked, "What kind of coachman? Man or woman? Pulling or pushing?" Hearing that, Li Banfeng knew he hadn't seen anyone. He took two strides forward to continue the pursuit, then suddenly paused and stepped back. Staring at the peddler for a moment, he asked, "You're out peddling again?" The peddler nodded with a chuckle. "You bet. While I was away these past few days, I heard you've been out peddling in my place. Much obliged!" "You can still laugh?" Li Banfeng frowned. "Where on earth did you run off to?" The peddler pointed behind him. "I went looking for him." Only then did Li Banfeng notice another figure standing behind the peddler. The man looked around fifty years old, with a round face and fairly neat features: slightly narrow eyes, thick eyebrows, a somewhat low bridge, and a round nose tip. He looked exceptionally genial. Recognizing Li Banfeng, the man stepped forward and greeted him: "Li Not-Crazy, we meet again!"