Critic held the covenant deed and pondered it for a long while before finally convincing himself it was real.
The Peddler had truly given him compensation.
He wanted to return the deed to the Peddler. "I don't want this territory. I only want one person."
The Peddler snorted. "What kind of nonsense is that? I'm not a human trafficker!"
Critic hurriedly explained, "You misunderstand my meaning. A friend of mine has lost his life, and I want to bring his life back."
The more anxious Critic grew, the worse his ability to express himself became.
Yet the Peddler understood well enough. "You want to bring someone back from the dead? That will be difficult."
Critic held out the covenant deed. "Take this. I'm willing to pay even more."
The Peddler shook his head. "I have ways, but my way is not the resurrection you're looking for. The method you want is something you'll have to find on your own."
"There isn't enough time," Critic said, shaking his head. "He might already..."
"As long as you can find the way, there will definitely be time." The Peddler looked at Critic. "That flower can't be kept tucked away in your clothes forever. Wildflowers from the mountain need to be brought out often to catch the breeze."
Critic pulled the tin can from his breast pocket. It felt like some kind of hint. Li Banfeng nodded at Critic—it was indeed a hint.
Before Critic could fully grasp what Li Banfeng meant, the Peddler spoke up: "There is an urgent matter that needs tending right now. The people of Desong Cliff aren't entirely dead yet, but they will be soon. I've given you a piece of properland, and if you let it turn into oldland, I will never let you off."
This was a thorny problem to handle.
If they didn't want Desong Cliff to degenerate into oldland, they had to send people there. But in Desong Cliff's current state, forget people—not even a single blade of grass could grow.
Critic did have an idea, though. "I have a group of friends who possess very strong resistance. They ought to be able to settle here."
The Peddler shook his head. "Daolao ghosts won't do. Not the ones on Daogui Ridge, and not the ones you brought with you, either."
Critic gestured toward the daolao ghosts beside him. "They aren't actually daolao ghosts in the true sense. They're my—"
The Peddler still shook his head. "No matter where they came from, they must be sent back to Daogui Ridge!"
There was no negotiating with the Peddler on this. Critic hurried off to think of another way.
Li Banfeng was still pondering the cause and effect of the whole affair when the Peddler began pushing his cart to leave.
"Junior Brother, wait a moment," Li Banfeng hastily called out.
The Peddler pulled out a feather duster and asked, "What is it?"
Li Banfeng quickly corrected his form of address: "Senior Brother, don't be in such a rush to leave."
"What am I supposed to do if I don't leave? There aren't any people here to do business with!" The Peddler couldn't even be bothered to rattle his pellet drum.
"Who says there's no business? Aren't I still standing right here?" Li Banfeng took out his wallet. "I'll buy a box of matches!"
"Five cents."
Li Banfeng had no small change and handed over a hundred-dollar bill. The Peddler curled his lip in displeasure.
Yet business was business. When there was money to be made, one couldn't bicker over the amount. He gave Li Banfeng a box of matches and counted out a handful of change.
Li Banfeng took the opportunity to ask, "I didn't quite understand what you said earlier about profits and losses. How exactly do you run your business? Did you make a loss or a profit in this deal with Critic?"
"Didn't I just say it? This venture counts as a loss, but not a heavy one."
"Every last household on Desong Cliff has been wiped out, and that's not a heavy loss?" Li Banfeng offered the Peddler a cigarette and struck a match to light it.
The Peddler set his cart down, took a drag from the cigarette, and said, "Different ventures require different approaches. It's true that no business is guaranteed a profit with zero risk of loss, but you have to know the true nature and caliber of the venture in your heart.
"There are petty, small-scale deals; there are steady, stable ventures; there are turbulent, high-risk ventures; and there are ventures where you lose your shirt down to the last penny.
"The business in Yaowanggou was steady and stable. Yao Xin fell, but the foundation of Yaowanggou remained intact. That's why I handed the business over to Xu Han. Old Xu didn't need to play any clever tricks; so long as he kept his feet on the ground and guarded the stall, it counted as a profit.
"The business at Haichiling was a wild swing of high stakes and turbulent fortune. If that insect plague could be stopped, it would mean saving a territory of properland and countless living souls, bringing an enormous return. If it couldn't be stopped, Haichiling would be doomed beyond redemption, resulting in a disastrous loss.
"That kind of venture is the hardest to pull off. I intended to handle it personally, but once I found Critic, I got tied up by other matters. Just then, I saw you providing disaster relief at Haichiling, so I sent Critic to find you. I never expected you to actually pull it off.
"You dare to dream, and you dare to fight. When everyone thought Haichiling was beyond saving, you carried Critic on your back and fought to the bitter end. From that point on, I trusted you. Whenever a turbulent, high-stakes venture came along, I wanted to turn to you.
"I thought Desong Cliff was in the same state as Haichiling back then. That was why I wanted to bring this business to you as well. Even if you refused, I would have found a way to make you agree. But once I got a clearer look at the situation on Desong Cliff, I realized this business wasn't suitable for you. Desong Cliff had already rotted to the core.
"What happened here was no longer a simple matter of vying for power and profit. What those people did had nothing to do with the virtue of 'De.' They even wanted to provoke a war and drag the entire Puluo Province into it.
"With that kind of business, there is zero chance of making a profit—you can't even preserve the principal. When you encounter a total write-off where you're bound to lose your shirt, you have to switch to someone else.
"The situation at Qianliangfang was very similar to Desong Cliff. Critic handled that business very well, which was why I picked him again. Although this venture on Desong Cliff still ended in a loss, the damage was kept strictly within the boundaries of Desong Cliff. That's why I say the loss wasn't heavy, and the compensation still had to be paid. Do you understand now?"
Li Banfeng thought for a moment and said, "Then you would have been better off explaining things clearly from the start. That way, Critic wouldn't have been so tied down by hesitation, driving himself into such a corner."
The Peddler gave a chuckle. "Brother, it's easy to talk when you're not the one running the house. You think it was wrong of me to tie Critic's hands? If I'd let him cut loose, he could slaughter all of Puluo Province tomorrow!
"I left it to him to judge who deserved to die because I wanted to preserve a bit more capital for Desong Cliff. But as things stand now, nothing is left. That's just how business goes, and I can only accept the balance sheet." The Peddler pushed his cart to leave again.
"Senior Brother, wait once more!" Li Banfeng called out.
"What now?" the Peddler said impatiently. "Am I just supposed to stand here flapping my gums with you instead of doing business?"
"Business must be done! I'll buy a candle."
"Twenty cents."
Li Banfeng handed over another hundred-dollar bill. The Peddler grumpily counted out change.
"Senior Brother, I've patronized your business twice now. Let's chat about something else!"
The Peddler lifted his feather duster. "Chat about what? Speak quickly!"
"I have a way to breach the Boundary."
The Peddler put the feather duster back down and rolled a cigarette for Li Banfeng. "Junior Brother, sit down. Let's talk slowly."
The two sat side by side. The Peddler struck a match and lit Li Banfeng's cigarette. "Tell me in detail. How did you breach the Boundary?"
"I built a bridge over the Boundary. People can walk across it."
Li Banfeng intended to explain the underlying principles of the concealed bridge in earnest, but the Peddler cut in eagerly: "How many people can cross your bridge at one time?"
"About three to five people, probably."
The Peddler's smile faded. "I see."
Li Banfeng was displeased. "What? You think that's too few? Looking down on me?"
The Peddler stood up and tidied his handcart. "It's not that I look down on you. Any method capable of breaching the Boundary is exceptionally rare. But three to five people is simply too few. Besides, you're a balancer now. If you want to send three to five people across, you wouldn't need to go through so much trouble, would you?"
Li Banfeng said, "It's not just three to five people I want to transport. I want to bring out all the three-headed people from Santoucha."
Hearing this, the Peddler's interest was piqued. "Now that is a big business. A venture of wild swings, and an exceptionally difficult one to pull off. You really want to do it?"
"I do! But it's hard to find a way in. I know nothing about Santoucha."
The Peddler picked up a medicinal candy from his cart and handed it to Li Banfeng. "I know quite a bit about Santoucha. We can partner up on this venture, but that bridge crossing the Boundary must be able to carry at least two hundred people at a time."
Li Banfeng pondered for a moment, then nodded. "Give me some more time."
The Peddler pushed his cart forward. "You have plenty of time, but that foreigner doesn't have much left. With Desong Cliff ruined like this by his hand, I'd like to see where he's going to find people."
***
Critic had gone to a newland—a very remote one.
In this newland, there were endless stretches of farmland, hardworking farmers, and hunters constantly coming and going. Entering the village, Critic asked around and finally found Zhang Wanlong.
"Mister Zhang, I've finally found you!" Critic was extremely agitated.
Zhang Wanlong looked Critic over carefully and let out a somewhat bewildered chuckle. "Foreign friend, have we met before?"
Critic was taken aback. "Of course we've met. I bought seeds from you!"
Zhang Wanlong shook his head. "You must have mistaken me for someone else. I never sell seeds to outsiders."
Critic couldn't accept this attitude. He pulled several seeds from his breast pocket. "These are the ones you sold me back then. Surely you haven't forgotten?"
Zhang Wanlong took the seeds and inspected them closely for a good while. "Their appearance does look somewhat similar to what I cultivate, but this really wasn't sold to you by me."
"Then who else could have sold them to me?"
"It might have been them." Zhang Wanlong called toward the cornfield. Two men who looked identical to Zhang Wanlong came over.
Zhang Wanlong introduced them: "These two crops were grown by me. They might have impersonated me and engaged in unauthorized business."
As he spoke, Zhang Wanlong's face darkened, and he said to the other two Zhang Wanlongs, "Did you two sell seeds to an outsider?"
The two Zhang Wanlongs shook their heads repeatedly. "We never sold any. Brother Long has rules—seeds cannot be sold to outsiders."
Since these two wouldn't admit it, Zhang Wanlong called over a dozen more Zhang Wanlongs. "Which of you sold seeds to him?"
All the Zhang Wanlongs shook their heads in denial. "We haven't sold any seeds."
Critic frowned. "Mister Zhang, what on earth do you mean by this? Are you demanding a higher price?"
Zhang Wanlong shook his head repeatedly. "I don't sell seeds, so where would price even come into it? It's just that I've grown so many crops that someone was bound to have broken my rules and sold seeds to you.
"This matter has to be investigated slowly. Why don't you wait a while in the village? I'll have my wives stoke the fire and cook a meal. Once all the hunters return, we'll compare them one by one. No matter what, we must get to the bottom of this."
How could Critic have the time to investigate this with him?
Even if they found the culprit, it would be of no help to Critic whatsoever. With no other choice, Critic left the village.
Xiao Genzi walked up and asked Zhang Wanlong, "Brother Zhang, why aren't we doing this business?"
"Business must be done, but it depends on whom you're doing it with." Zhang Wanlong took an antenna out of a drawer. "I asked a friend at the radio station to buy this. Good stuff!"
He brought over a pumpkin, found a syringe, and gave the pumpkin an injection.
After administering the shot, he picked up a drill and bored a hole into the pumpkin.
"*Humph... humph...*" The pumpkin grunted twice.
Zhang Wanlong quickly comforted it: "It doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt. I gave you an anesthetic."
The pumpkin calmed down slightly.
Zhang Wanlong picked up the antenna and said to the pumpkin, "This antenna is a bit cold, bear with it."
As the antenna was inserted, the pumpkin shuddered again. Zhang Wanlong adjusted the antenna's position, and faint sounds emerged from inside the pumpkin. At first, it was rather noisy static, but after several adjustments, the sound gradually grew clear.
Xiao Genzi looked on in complete bewilderment. "What is this?"
"A radio!" Zhang Wanlong wiped the pumpkin juice from his hands. "Let me tell you, this is technology. You can't just study night soil every single day; you also have to study science and technology."
Xiao Genzi still didn't quite grasp the concept of technology. In Puluo Province, very few people could ever listen to radio broadcasts.
He squatted beside the pumpkin and listened intently for a while. It happened to be commercial time, and the host was recommending a newly launched kitchen cleaver.
Xiao Genzi snorted. "This science and technology is all a scam. If that kitchen knife could really cut through iron like mud, why would anyone use a broadsword to kill people?"
The host happened to reach that very segment: "*With this kitchen cleaver, one second you're chopping vegetables in the kitchen, and the next you can take a person's head, guaranteeing a surprise attack.*"
Xiao Genzi snorted again. "One second I'm stirring soup, and the next I'm splashing juice—that guarantees a surprise attack too! What's the point of this science and technology?"
Zhang Wanlong chuckled. "Why are you picking a fight with an advertisement? Just wait a bit; the real content hasn't come on yet."
After waiting half an hour, the commercials ended, and a sweet voice resonated from the pumpkin: "*Dear listeners, this is A-Hui broadcasting the latest news from Desong Cliff. According to well-informed sources, Desong Cliff has suffered a rare plague, leaving tens of thousands of residents with their fates unknown. Detailed conditions are pending further investigation...*"
Zhang Wanlong looked at Xiao Genzi. "Hear that now?"
Xiao Genzi nodded. "The sound of this science and technology sure is sweet."
"Sweet, right? That voice of A-Hui's... Who was talking about that?! Desong Cliff is in trouble, didn't you hear? A plague broke out there. Who do you think did it?"
Genzi shook his head. "No matter who did it, it shouldn't have anything to do with us, right?"
"That's hard to say." Zhang Wanlong looked grave. "A plague like that is very likely connected to Disease Cultivators. Lühuazi is the ancestor of Disease Cultivators, but he hasn't shown his face in a long time. Wan Jinxian is also a Disease Cultivator, and there's no word on him now either.
"That foreigner who just came here is a Disease Cultivator too. Now he's looking to buy seeds from us—who knows what he intends to do? We have to be on guard. If we get tied up in what happened at Desong Cliff, we won't be able to bear the consequences."
Xiao Genzi stared earnestly at the radio-pumpkin, committing Zhang Wanlong's words to memory.
He felt that he still didn't know enough about Zhang Wanlong, and there was truly a great deal he needed to learn going forward.
***
At noon the following day, another visitor arrived in the village. A man carrying a box of silver dollars placed it before Zhang Wanlong. "Brother Zhang, I've come to buy some goods from you."
Zhang Wanlong was startled. "Brother, how should I address you?"
The man introduced himself: "My surname is Sun, my name is Sun Yusheng. I'm from Moxiang Shop, and I want to buy some good seeds from you."
Zhang Wanlong laughed. "You want to buy seeds too?"
The man was taken aback. "Has someone else been here?"
"Indeed."
"Who?"
"Never mind who it was. Let's talk about the rules first. If you've taken a liking to grain, or melons, fruits, pears, and peaches, or specialties of the newland, you're free to pick any of them. But I never sell seeds."
The man frowned. "You truly won't sell?"
"I won't."
"Very well, then consider that I've come to the wrong place." The man picked up the chest and left.
Xiao Genzi asked, "Can't we do business with this person either?"
"Of course not," Zhang Wanlong said with a chuckle. "That man's surname isn't Sun; it's He. He's He Jiaqing, the Eldest Young Master of the He family. He used disguise arts, but he couldn't fool my eyes. He Jiaqing doesn't get along with Li Seven. We can't offend an old patron for the sake of a single deal with him."
"Naturally," Genzi nodded repeatedly. "Seventh Master is one of our own."
Zhang Wanlong glanced toward the door. "This person won't be easy to dismiss. He'll definitely return."
Genzi was rather disdainful. "Let him come if he wants. We just won't sell to him."
"If we don't sell to him, he'll take them himself. He Jiaqing is a Thief Cultivator; ordinary folks really don't know that about him."
Hearing this, Xiao Genzi picked up his ladle. "Tomorrow I'll keep watch at home. If he dares show up, I'll hit him with a ladleful! Afterward, the moment he shows his face, we'll be able to smell him."
"A thief can scheme for a thousand days, but a victim cannot guard for a thousand days. That trick won't work." Zhang Wanlong smiled and added a lock to the cellar.
The next day, when the two returned from their farm work, Zhang Wanlong's two wives were cooking.
"Did anyone come by today?" Zhang Wanlong asked.
"No one came!" the two wives answered in unison.
The two men went to inspect the cellar.
Xiao Genzi checked the lock and said to Zhang Wanlong, "No one touched this lock. He Jiaqing didn't come."
"Not necessarily." Zhang Wanlong took out a medicine vial and dropped two drops of liquid onto the lock.
After waiting a moment, a vine sprouted from the keyhole, bearing a rose the size of a palm. Standing upon the flower's heart was an index-finger-sized woman who bowed toward Zhang Wanlong.
Zhang Wanlong asked, "Did anyone touch you today?"
"Yes. A man came by with unruly hands and groped all over me several times."
Zhang Wanlong asked again, "Did he take the seeds?"
"He did. I didn't dare stop him."
"No need to stop him. If he took them, so be it!" Zhang Wanlong waved his hand gently. The woman bowed once more; the petals closed, the blossom retracted into the vine, the vine retreated into the keyhole, and the lock returned to its previous appearance.
Genzi wasn't particularly surprised. Having followed Zhang Wanlong for so long, he was accustomed to such wonders.
His concern now was the seeds: "Brother Zhang, let's first check how many seeds He Jiaqing stole."
"No need to look. Let him take whatever he wants. Those are all good seeds—plant a melon and get a melon, plant a bean and get a bean—only, they'll never grow the thing he's looking for."
The following evening, Zhang Wanlong and Genzi had a couple of drinks and were preparing for bed when yet another person came to buy seeds.
Zhang Wanlong chuckled. "How truly strange. Why has everyone come looking to buy seeds from me these past two days?"
No matter how much money the visitor offered, the seeds simply were not for sale!
The man didn't pester him either; he stood up and left. Zhang Wanlong asked Genzi, "A few days ago when we went to Green Water City, we bought quite a few newspapers. Do you remember where they were put?"
Genzi remembered—Seventh Master had told him to read newspapers more often.
He brought over a stack of newspapers from the back courtyard, and Zhang Wanlong searched through them sheet by sheet.
His gaze came to rest on a photograph: "It's this man, named Du Wenming!"
Genzi had learned to read quite a few characters from Zhang Wanlong. He read through the news report: "He's from the Outer States?"
"Yes, an Outer State man." Zhang Wanlong's expression grew solemn. "Why has he come looking to buy seeds from me too?"
***
Green Water City, Yetang Teahouse.
Mister Kongfang poured a cup of tea for Du Wenming. "Are you certain you didn't go to the wrong place?"
Du Wenming said, "The place is definitely correct. Critic indeed went there. Both the Chu family and the He family have plots of land in the vicinity, and I've gathered some rumors from them. That Farming Cultivator's methods are formidable; Li Seven bought quite a few seeds from him."
Mister Kongfang pondered the connection: "What does that foreigner want to use the seeds for? He caused such a massive catastrophe at Desong Cliff—could he be trying to use a Farming Cultivator's seeds to cover it up? That's far too absurd."
Du Wenming offered a conjecture: "Is it possible that the Peddler doesn't want to get involved?"
"It's impossible for him not to get involved. Desong Cliff is a territory of properland; he cannot simply sit by and watch that domain vanish into nothing!" Mister Kongfang had great faith in his own judgment. "Moreover, even if the Peddler turns a blind eye, the Inner States could never ignore it. I've heard they also invested considerable capital into Desong Cliff. This matter cannot simply be left unresolved."
***
Inner States, Wujiang City.
Song Demei's second son, Yue Congde, was recounting his experiences at Desong Cliff before Minister Fan, Minister Lü, and Minister Bi. He had already recounted this tale many times; over the past few days, eleven different people had questioned him about the course of events.
Because an epidemic was involved, Yue Congde had initially been confined to a cell, interrogated through a wall by designated personnel. The physical constitution of Inner State people was unique, granting them exceptional resistance to plagues, yet because Critic was a disciple of the Disease Cultivator path, they had still taken every precaution.
After several days, no abnormalities ever manifested on Yue Congde's body, so their vigilance relaxed somewhat, and some began questioning him face-to-face. Now, Yue Congde had finally gained an audience with the Cabinet Ministers; today was his crucial opportunity to make a good impression.
Yet showing competence was one thing; he must not exaggerate. He had recited his story over a dozen times; if his words didn't match up today, he would be in serious trouble.
The three Cabinet Ministers sat upon a single chair, three heads atop a single body, gazing at Yue Congde.
Minister Fan spoke first: "Did that foreigner slaughter everyone on Desong Cliff down to the last person?"
Yue Congde nodded repeatedly. "As far as I know, not a single one was left."
"How did you make it back?"
On this point, he could not tell the truth.
The actual truth was that he had confessed his identity to Critic and shown Critic the entrance leading to the Inner States, whereupon Critic let him go.
The crime of disclosing the entrance to the Inner States alone was enough to cost him his life. Fortunately, before returning, he had already devised an excuse, and over the past two days, he had rehearsed it over a dozen times, having long committed it to memory.
"That foreigner's plague could not latch onto our physical bodies. I used disguise techniques to pretend I had broken out in rashes and played dead among the corpses. At the time, too many people had died in the village, and that foreigner did not examine them one by one, so he failed to notice me.
"After he departed, I walked through the village and discovered that within the settlement, there were... there were no living souls left." Yue Congde paused abruptly, a hesitation that aroused slight suspicion from the three Cabinet Ministers.
Minister Lü asked sternly, "Why did you sound guilty just now?"
Yue Congde hastily explained, "I only confirmed there were no living souls left in Deyuan Village. The conditions in the other villages were merely my deduction."
There was nothing wrong with phrasing it that way. Exactly how many had died on Desong Cliff could still be investigated through spies; even if Yue Congde's assessment wasn't entirely precise, it wouldn't have a major impact.
The three ministers were very satisfied with the outcome of this interrogation. Although the storm at Desong Cliff had subsided, they had gained two significant takeaways: first, that the foreigner Critic had defied the Peddler and was bound to face severe punishment; second, that the foreigner Critic's techniques were ineffective against Inner State people.
Lüshui Beggar and Wan Jinxian had already gone missing. If Critic died at the hands of the Peddler, Puluo Province would possess no further means to resist epidemics. Even if the Peddler spared Critic, his plague could not harm Inner State bodies, meaning the Inner States had no need to fear any plague originating from Puluo Province.
Yue Congde received his reward. Clutching the reward silver, he was just preparing to leave Minister Fan's manor when he suddenly felt a prickling itch on his back. He scratched it with his hand and felt that his back was not quite smooth.
*What is this?*
Yue Congde's entire body went rigid in an instant. He felt his back growing itchier and itchier.
*Don't scratch. I must never scratch it again.*
*Is this... a rash?*
*Nothing was wrong before, so why have I broken out in a rash today?*
*I must never let anyone see. I must never...*
Chapter 616