Rong Sijiao looked around inside the companion dwelling and caught sight of a peerless beauty.
Without a second thought, he flicked a handful of silver powder from his hand. It formed a short blade that came to rest straight against Zhao Xiaowan's neck. "Li Seven, I don't care who this is! Even if I die, I'm taking one with me!"
*Ch-ch-ch...*
The gramophone chuckled. "That's just a puppet. Go ahead and do what you want with it; tomorrow I'll have the sisters make me another."
Hong Ying was currently combing her hair. Rong Sijiao only saw a lock of hair flash before his eyes and vanish.
Whose hair was that?
Was it the woman combing her hair? But she didn't seem to have moved!
Rong Sijiao looked down.
The blade formed of silver powder was gone. His sole remaining left hand was gone as well.
Rong Sijiao collapsed to the floor, wailing in agony. Li Banfeng called back his two shadows and took a seat near Rong Sijiao.
His lady had been staring at the two shadows the entire time. "Husband, what kind of method was that just now? Why was there an extra shadow?"
Li Banfeng smiled. "I just learned it recently myself. At its root, it's still the skill of Body and Shadow Comforting Each Other."
At the side, Hong Ying chimed in, "Not entirely. It's the Skill of Heavenly Harmony that Seventh Master learned. You weren't at home back then, so you didn't see it."
The gramophone sounded somewhat surprised. "Now that is quite an extraordinary technique."
As the family chatted, Rong Sijiao scrambled to his feet, trying to bolt for the door. But another lock of hair flashed past, and both of Rong Sijiao's calves were cleanly severed from below the knees.
That lock of hair was jet-black and straight; one look was enough to tell it belonged to Hong Ying.
Yet Rong Sijiao could never see Hong Ying's face. He only saw her back turned to him, seated before the vanity table and combing her hair.
He glanced toward the mirror on the vanity table, but due to the angle, he still couldn't catch a glimpse of Hong Ying's countenance.
Whether he could see Hong Ying no longer mattered. Having lost all four limbs, Rong Sijiao was stripped of any ability to flee. The pain was worse than death; when Li Banfeng questioned him, he had no desire to speak. Li Banfeng had his ways. He had the liquor gourd concoct some medicinal wine and smeared it over Rong Sijiao's wounds to staunch the bleeding and numb the pain.
Once the pain subsided, Rong Sijiao's will to live returned. As long as Li Banfeng spared his life, he could still find a way to reattach his severed limbs. "Seventh Master, falling into your hands, I am thoroughly bested. Whatever you wish to ask, I will tell you everything I know without holding back."
Li Banfeng didn't actually have much to ask. The first matter: "What benefits did the Inner States give you that made it worth your while to work so hard for them?"
Rong Sijiao replied, "For an appointment."
"Reporting Meng Yuchun was enough to get you an appointment?"
Rong Sijiao shook his head. "Reporting Meng Yuchun alone wouldn't get me an appointment. There are countless local spirits in the newlands who want to serve in the Inner States, and the Inner States only take three to five people a year at most.
"When that time comes, it all depends on who has earned the most merits. You accumulate them bit by bit, and only those ranked at the very top can trade them for a position. Reporting Meng Yuchun alone counts only as stacking up another merit so the people of the Inner States will look upon me with slightly higher regard."
Li Banfeng sneered. "Tell me, how cheap can you get?"
Rong Sijiao didn't think himself cheap at all. "Seventh Master, I'm not the only one doing this. Go take a look at the local spirits of the newlands—old or young, eight out of ten are racking their brains and clawing their way to the top!"
"Whenever something like this happens, do you always report it to Chu Shaoqiang?"
"No, not usually. In the past, the Inner States would send a messenger. Every month or two, someone would come to the newlands to gather intelligence."
"Come by every month or two? That can't be right, can it?" Li Banfeng had stayed in Zhengjing Village for a long time, yet he had never heard Qiu Luoye or Shui Yongquan mention any messengers.
He had taken Mountain Uplifting Master's territory, and he had never heard of a messenger visiting there either.
There were countless newlands across Puluo Province. Could Inner States messengers really make the rounds every month or two?
Rong Sijiao clearly hadn't told the whole story.
"Since things have come to this, don't hold back half the truth."
Rong Sijiao caught Li Banfeng's drift. "I usually accumulated more merits, so I was different from the others. I ranked near the front, so the messengers thought highly of me..."
In short, he had received special attention from the Inner States and become a designated contact; the messengers would actively seek him out.
"Then why didn't you report the information to the messenger this time?"
"Something happened in the Inner States, and the messenger didn't show up. Originally, I didn't want to hand the items over to Chu Shaoqiang either, because I knew Chu Huaiyuan had an unusual relationship with you, and I worried word might leak. But later, when I saw everyone else stirring, I knew that if I didn't report it soon, I would fall behind."
Li Banfeng smiled. "Calling you cheap really wasn't doing you any injustice. Where did you hide your covenant deed?"
Rong Sijiao lowered his head. "Seventh Master, what do you want my covenant deed for?"
"Not speaking?"
"I'll talk!" Rong Sijiao gritted his teeth. "I have a manor at the mountain summit. In the back courtyard of the manor, there's a well. My covenant deed is buried inside that well."
"Lady, please look after our guest for a moment. I'll be right back."
Li Banfeng departed the companion dwelling. Not long after, a shudder wracked Rong Sijiao's body, and he collapsed to the floor, twitching uncontrollably.
His status had fallen.
Li Banfeng returned, holding Rong Sijiao's covenant deed in his hand.
Rong Sijiao shouted, "Li Seven, taking my covenant deed won't do you any good! The people on my territory will never obey you—they only believe in the Rongku God! If you want to be the local spirit here, I can help you! I can become an Injured Demon Fiend and serve as your counselor!"
"You serve as my counselor?" Li Banfeng chuckled. "And when the Inner States messenger arrives, you'll report me again, racking up another merit, I take it?"
"I've cut all ties with the Inner States! In this lifetime, I'll never contact them again!"
"Forget this lifetime. Wait for your next." Li Banfeng exited the companion dwelling.
Rong Sijiao's body went completely limp as his soul slipped out of his shell, trying to follow Li Banfeng and rush out of the room.
This was a method unique to newland local spirits. Having already died once, even though his status was gone, Rong Sijiao still retained a portion of his combat strength, enabling him to detach his soul from his body and move like a deceased spirit.
Yet this ability was of little use; if his body couldn't escape, neither could his soul.
The only benefit was that everyone didn't have to wait for the gramophone to eat first, since soul and body were already separated.
Hong Ying rose to her feet and planted a foot down on Rong Sijiao's body.
The gramophone extended its stylus and snagged Rong Sijiao's soul.
"Honored guest, my husband simply has this sort of temper. Please don't take his sharp words to heart. Just now, he told you to wait for your next life, but that was said in anger. You needn't worry about it—you definitely won't have a next life. Brothers and sisters, last time Husband brought back that powder dumpling, none of us got a bite. This time, while it's fresh, let's all dig in!"
*Crunch!*
***
Critic walked to the foot of the mountain and stepped on a fallen leaf.
He picked it up. The fallen leaf was remarkably thick and a vivid, fresh green.
Its stem was clean and intact, not snapped off, but naturally shed. Yet why would such a fresh leaf drop from a tree? Could this be a leaf crafted through a Color Cultivator's technique?
Critic marveled, "To think it could be so lifelike! It seems a Color Cultivator's attainments in painting are not inferior to a Painting Cultivator's in the least."
Standing beside him, the rabbit didn't quite grasp Critic's meaning. "Are you saying... all this was painted by the Rongku God?"
"Yes, it was all painted. From a purely artistic perspective, this could be considered a magnificent masterpiece!" Even as Critic sighed in admiration, he suddenly noticed the fallen leaf in his hand was gradually fading. Vivid green turned into pale green, pale green into grayish-white, and grayish-white into yellowish-brown. What was once thick, fresh green ultimately turned into a mottled, yellowish-brown withered leaf.
"The leaves were already there; the Color Cultivator merely colored them." Critic felt a touch of disappointment, altering his prior opinion. "A Color Cultivator's painterly skill isn't quite so exquisite after all. Though their application of color remains extraordinary, possessing a ready-made compositional foundation greatly discounts the artistic value."
The rabbit couldn't believe it. "All the leaves on this mountain were dyed?"
As they spoke, countless surrounding leaves were losing their color. The rabbit's lips trembled uncontrollably, its buck teeth slipping in and out of sight.
"Not just these leaves—the entire mountain." Critic leaped onto a tree and gazed into the distance.
The mountain, once an expanse of lush greenery, began showing patches of grayish-white.
After watching from the tree for a moment, the rabbit went weak at the knees.
How was this possible?!
Mount Rongku naturally possessed the four seasons; flourishing and withering hung upon the deity's singular thought!
"The Rongku God must be enraged! He's going to punish all living beings!" The rabbit dropped to the ground, prostrating itself repeatedly while silently praying, pleading for the Rongku God's forgiveness.
Critic looked around. Mount Rongku, once lush and emerald everywhere, was now desolate and bleak. Most of the vegetation was withered, leaving only the pine trees green, though after being coated in pigment for so long, they too looked devoid of vitality.
"Stop praying. The Rongku God won't answer you anymore," Critic said, patting the rabbit.
The rabbit dared not move. "The Rongku God has sent down punishment! Anyone disrespectful to the deity will suffer severe retribution!"
"What kind of retribution?" Critic inquired earnestly.
At a loss for words, the rabbit hesitated. Critic picked up the rabbit, pointed at the carcass of an ox, and asked, "Are you referring to him?"
Him...
The rabbit stared at the wild ox. "Yes, that's him! This wild ox was alive yesterday, and today it turned out like this! Flourishing and withering in a single thought! The moment the Rongku God set his mind to it, he made—"
Critic inspected the ox's carcass and said to the rabbit, "The reason this ox died here is because it ate toxic pigments. After succumbing to poisoning, its body was severely corroded by the pigments as well.
"There is still a great deal of leftover pigment on this mountain, and these pigments are lethal to most creatures in this territory. Therefore, for a long time to come, you still won't be able to forage on this mountain.
"The good news, however, is that you no longer need to fear retribution from Rong Sijiao. He was a pure Color Cultivator; everything you saw on this mountain was a scene embellished by his pigments. Now that these pigments have run amok, it proves his life has reached its end."
The rabbit looked up at Critic. "You're saying... the Rongku God... is gone?"
"Yes, he is gone." Critic had no idea how to convince a rabbit, nor did he know how to convince the creatures of this land in the days ahead.
Returning to their starting point to rendezvous with Li Banfeng, Li Banfeng offered him a sound piece of advice: "Don't try to convince them yourself. Let the Rongku God convince them."
Li Banfeng handed both covenant deeds over to Critic. "From now on, you are the Rongku God. Spend some time together, and you will surely adapt to one another."
***
Inner States, Wubian City.
Luo Lijun entered the Xuanhai Dispensary. Pharmacist Lang Daoshou and Physician Xie Baheng stepped forward together to bow.
"Greetings, Lord Luo."
Luo Lijun waved a hand. "Save it. How is the research on the potion coming along?"
Pharmacist Lang Daoshou was a mantis shrimp. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Physician Xie Baheng cut in ahead of him: "We haven't yet discerned the medicinal properties. We beg Lord Luo to grant us a little more time."
"Grant you how much more time?" Luo Lijun grew furious. "The finished medicine is sitting right in front of you. Can't you even copy the model right before your eyes?"
Xie Baheng was a crab; he quickly apologized, "Your subordinate is incompetent. Please quell your anger, Lord Luo."
"Where has Shan Yuzhu gone?"
Xie Baheng replied, "Yuzhu went to procure medicinal ingredients. She will be here shortly."
With Xie Baheng doing all the talking, Luo Lijun was displeased. She glared at Lang Daoshou. "Are you mute?"
Lang Daoshou flicked his eyestalks and squeezed out a sentence: "Yes, she will be here shortly."
Luo Lijun snapped angrily, "Paying such generous salaries to maintain a bunch of useless trash like you—what good are you? If I don't see an antidote within three days, find some iron chains, lock yourselves up, and wait to be thrown into the dungeon!"
Luo Lijun swept out. Xie Baheng slumped into a chair. "What are we going to do?!"
Lang Daoshou wiped tears with his raptorial claws. "Isn't this all your fucking fault?"
Xie Baheng bristled. "Old Lang, make yourself clear! Why the fuck is it my fault?"
Lang Daoshou roared, "I already cracked the formula! It's your medical skills that are lacking, unable to grasp the therapeutic principles behind it, yet you fucking blame me!"
Xie Baheng pulled out a sheet of paper. "Look at this recipe you wrote yourself! Soy sauce, white sugar, and vinegar! Is this a fucking prescription?
"It'd be more fitting if you used this stuff to make sweet-and-sour crab! Submitting this to brush off your duties is no different from having me stewed into medicinal broth!"
Lang Daoshou wept uncontrollably. "Speak with some conscience! I do my job honestly and dutifully—who did I try to brush off?"
The two argued with increasing ferocity when a scallop flapped its shells and entered the pharmacy.
"Brothers, stop fighting. This potion's origins are too bizarre; there's no way we can crack it. If you ask me, let's stop this futile effort."
Lang Daoshou sniffled twice. "If we don't do it, what then? Go to prison?"
Xie Baheng waved his pair of pincers. "Reason should prevail! Why should we be thrown into prison?"
Lang Daoshou spat. "Bah! Reason? Does Luo Lijun look like someone who listens to reason?"
Shan Yuzhu said, "Since she doesn't listen to reason, this matter can't be blamed on us. Let's run."
Lang Daoshou froze. "Run where?"
Shan Yuzhu said, "We certainly can't go north; they won't take us in. We could try the south—I have connections."
Xie Baheng lowered his head. "I have a whole family in tow..."
Lang Daoshou rose to his feet. "Sister, I'm going with you! I'll take my whole family with me—there's no way in hell I'm going to prison!"
***
After leaving Mount Rongku, Li Banfeng called Luo Zhengnan to ask about the peddler's whereabouts.
Ever since his last disappearance, the peddler had broken his routine, making his movements difficult to predict. Luo Zhengnan contacted a few old friends, and someone said they had seen the peddler at Yesongqiao.
Yesongqiao was Li Banfeng's own territory. Familiar with the route, Li Banfeng reached the place in half a day.
He searched all over Yesongqiao but found no sign of the peddler. After asking around, he learned the peddler had already departed yesterday.
Li Banfeng inquired about the peddler's next stop, but because the peddler had altered his route, no one could say for sure.
Where could he find him now?
Li Banfeng returned to Green Water City. Sitting in his room at Xiaoyaowu, he gazed up at the clouds in the sky...
***
A white courtyard with white houses, white rooms with white walls. Inside this uniformly snow-white manor, the peddler was in the living room scrubbing away a scorch mark on the back wall.
The scorch mark wasn't particularly large, but the peddler found it an eyesore. It was like an ink blot on a clean sheet of white paper; the more he looked at it, the more unbearable it felt.
Dipping into soapy water, he scrubbed it several times. The charred stain faded considerably, yet even the faintest lingering trace still made the peddler uncomfortable. He fetched some white paint from his cart, intending to cover the scorch mark completely, but the white paint was too bright, looking somewhat mismatched.
The paint needed mixing.
The peddler dug out other pigments and mixed them into the white paint until it seemed close enough to the surrounding color. Taking out a small flat brush, he dipped it into the paint and gradually concealed the scorch mark bit by bit. After brushing over it again and again, no trace remained at last. Thoroughly pleased, the peddler tended to the flowers and grass in the courtyard, then wheeled his cart out through the gate.
He had walked a fair distance when suddenly his heart gave a lurch. Looking back, he discovered an extra figure in the courtyard.
The peddler pushed his cart back into the yard, only to find Li Banfeng holding a lighter, burning the Boston ivy on the back wall.
This was the very back wall the peddler had just coated in white paint, and now Li Banfeng had scorched a large patch black.
The peddler hurriedly put out the fire and asked Li Banfeng, "What are you doing here?"
Li Banfeng answered with a calm expression, "Burning down your house."
The peddler asked again, "Why are you burning my house again?"
Li Banfeng retorted, "Isn't this a fiery cloud?"
"I'll give you fiery clouds!" The peddler whipped out his feather duster, and Li Banfeng took to his heels. The two chased each other once around the house before Li Banfeng vanished into thin air. The peddler then pushed his cart and jumped down from the cloud.
Li Banfeng was sitting in his room at Xiaoyaowu dazing out when the peddler barged in with his cart, pointing the feather duster at Li Banfeng. "Didn't I tell you that you're not allowed to burn my house? Why did you go back again?"
Li Banfeng started as if waking from a dream, shaking his head. "It wasn't me!"
"Then what's that in your hand?"
Li Banfeng looked down and found he was still holding the lighter, his thumb flicking the fire wheel, *click-clack, click-clack*, sparking a flame.
He finally realized what had caused the fire at Xiaoyaowu previously.
"This is truly wondrous," Li Banfeng marveled. "I have no recollection of it whatsoever!"
"No recollection? You burned my house—how are you going to settle that score?" The peddler swung his feather duster and began thrashing him.
Li Banfeng shielded his head and shouted, "Senior Brother, put the feather duster down first! I have urgent business with you, and because I couldn't find you anywhere, I had no choice but to use the Cloud Gate technique!"
"What do you need me for?"
"Before, I talked to you about the Boundary. You said it could only be used once it could transport two hundred people at a time. Well, I went and handled it."
The peddler lowered his feather duster, rolled a cigarette for Li Banfeng, and said, "Come, Junior Brother, sit down and take your time. Can it take two hundred people now?"
With the cigarette between his lips, Li Banfeng replied, "Two hundred is a bit much. Would one hundred work?"
"One hundred falls a bit short..." The peddler pondered for a moment, shaking his head slightly.
Li Banfeng said, "The New Year is right around the corner. Every person we save counts."
The peddler looked at Li Banfeng. "Let them have a good New Year?"
"That's right! Have a good New Year!"
The peddler murmured softly, "There is a group of people who might not live past the New Year. Their numbers aren't huge, so rescuing them would indeed be suitable."
"How many of them are there?"
"Ten thousand."
"That many?" Li Banfeng's dark bridge could only take a hundred at most. "If we have to bring out ten thousand people, wouldn't that take a hundred trips?"
"A hundred trips?" The peddler shook his head. "When has there ever been such good luck? If we manage to bring people out even once, we'll consider ourselves lucky."
"Then just bring out one hundred people?"
"No. If we bring them out, we must bring them all out."
"How do we carry them?" Li Banfeng was baffled.
After mulling it over for a long while, the peddler said to Li Banfeng, "Brother, head to Haichiling and pick up a carriage at Sandaoling."
"From whom?"
"Find Pan Dehai."
"All right," Li Banfeng nodded. "I've been to the teahouse he runs; I should be able to find him there."
The peddler shook his head. "Don't go to the teahouse, and don't go near any business he runs. Pan Dehai is timid. If you show up right on his doorstep, he won't have the courage to do certain things.
"Go to Sandaoling and stroll around where the crowds are thickest. If Pan Dehai can find you directly, that would be best. If you don't see him after a day, ask around where one can rent an old carriage. Ask twice, and Pan Dehai should come out."
Li Banfeng didn't know what an "old carriage" really was. "My dark bridge can only support a hundred people at most. If you pack ten thousand people into a carriage, isn't that still ten thousand people? The bridge still won't hold."
The peddler weighed it in his mind and felt rather confident. "I reckon the bridge should be able to hold them. It's just a question of whether it can cross the Boundary at Santoucha."
"Is the Boundary at Santoucha different?"
The peddler nodded. "It really is different. Go case the area at Sandaoling first and pick a suitable location together with Old Pan. Brother, there's one more thing we need to settle: you'll have to take responsibility for resettling the ten thousand people brought out."
"That's easy enough. Send them all to Sheqiao Village in Lüshui Bay. There are already thirty thousand there; an extra ten thousand won't be noticeable."
"Then it's settled. I'm off to find my sweetie!" The peddler wheeled his cart to leave.
Li Banfeng said indignantly, "You're sending me to Haichiling while you run off to have fun with your lover?"
The peddler looked back. "I'm going to my sweetie on serious business! It's not the sordid thing you're imagining!"
***
Li Banfeng traveled through the newlands to Haichiling. This route was different from taking the train; by train, one reached Toudaoling first, whereas traveling through the newlands brought one to Sandaoling first.
Li Banfeng was very familiar with Sandaoling; when he had first come to Haichiling for disaster relief, Sandaoling was the first place he visited.
Haichiling's layout remained unchanged: Toudaoling was an urban city, Erdaoling comprised three towns, and Sandaoling consisted of dozens of villages, large and small.
Presently, these villages were bustling. With the New Year right around the corner, every household was stocking up on New Year goods while also preparing offerings to worship Lord Seven.
Ever since Li Banfeng quelled the insect plague, the custom of worshipping Lord Seven in Haichiling had been preserved, though different places worshipped in different manners.
In Toudaoling, people simply lit a stick of incense and offered a few prayers as a token of goodwill.
In Erdaoling, things were vastly different: there had to be proper spirit tablets, formal offerings, and a strict ritual process.
By the time one reached Sandaoling, there were dedicated temples for Lord Seven, and the ritual rules were plentiful.
On the twenty-seventh of the twelfth lunar month, people came to the temple to burn incense, erect theatrical stages, hire opera troupes, and stage seven major plays outside the temple gates—this was called "cheering on Lord Seven."
On the seventh day of the first lunar month, people returned to the temple to burn incense and invite performers from all walks of life—storytellers, ballad singers, martial artists, acrobats, and conjurers—keeping the celebration lively from morning till night. This was called "welcoming Lord Seven in triumph"!
Of all the temples to Lord Seven, the largest was in Laobing Village. From the twenty-seventh of the twelfth lunar month all the way to the seventh of the first lunar month, temple fairs were held continuously in Laobing Village, brimming with carriages, horses, and surging crowds every day, even livelier than in the city.
Li Banfeng stood inside the temple and examined the idol of Lord Seven closely.
The statue wore a Western suit and a fedora, the brim pulled so low that its face was virtually invisible.
Looking at this figure, Li Banfeng found it somewhat unfamiliar; he hadn't worn a Western suit in a long time.
A burly man passed by Li Banfeng, cast a look at him, and barked, "What are you doing? Where are you from? You don't burn incense, you don't bow—what are you staring at? Have some manners!"
Li Banfeng turned to look. He recognized the man.
Niu Fuzhi—blessed with fortune, filled with ambition.
Back when Li Banfeng was handling the insect plague in Laobing Village, he had stayed at Niu Fuzhi's home. After the plague was solved, Niu Fuzhi was the first to step forward to build a temple for Li Seven.
Later, when Li Seven went to Jianrengang, he had even rescued Niu Fuzhi's nephew, Niu Guangda.
Now, Niu Fuzhi didn't even recognize Li Banfeng. On the one hand, Li Banfeng's attire had changed dramatically; on the other hand, a Homestead Cultivator possessed the natural gift of being overlooked by others.
Li Banfeng twitched his eyebrows and walked away.
Niu Fuzhi snorted. "Get a few words of reprimand and you get upset? A stranger from out of town, clearly! Do you know what kind of place this is? Not showing respect to Lord Seven, yet having the gall to enter this temple!"
Li Banfeng strolled around Laobing Village for a while and saw Niu Jingchuan selecting seeds. Niu Jingchuan was a Farming Cultivator; when Laobing Village endured the insect plague, Niu Jingchuan had rendered great service.
He was picking seeds now. Every year, a bowl of prime seeds had to be meticulously selected as an offering to Lord Seven; such was the custom of Laobing Village.
Li Banfeng squatted down next to Niu Jingchuan and asked, "Is there a place nearby that rents old carriages?"
"Sure is! Head toward the entrance of the village."
Li Banfeng thanked him and departed.
Niu Jingchuan picked out a few seeds, then abruptly stood up, searching in all directions for the figure of the man just now.
Who was that?
His voice sounded awfully familiar.
Li Banfeng walked over to the village entrance and saw the so-called old carriages available for hire.
An old carriage was a covered box wagon, drawn either by horses or oxen. It could transport passengers, carry cargo, and allow passengers to sleep inside the compartment, making it a primary mode of transportation for long journeys.
Traveling from Sandaoling to Toudaoling, many people hired such carriages. When selecting one, people generally preferred older, veteran carriage drivers who knew what roads to avoid and what people to steer clear of. For that reason, these covered wagons were known as "old carriages."
Li Banfeng made a round at the village entrance, where three old carriages were waiting for hires. Li Banfeng swept his gaze over them: he didn't pick the oldest driver, nor the strongest. He sought out the one with the greatest virtue, stepped forward, and asked, "Old Pan, out running business?"
Pan Dehai glanced around, not expecting Li Banfeng to address him directly as "Old Pan."
"Honored customer, where might you be headed?" Pan Dehai still wanted to keep playing the driver.
"Take a drive around the area first." Li Banfeng boarded the carriage, and Pan Dehai whipped the reins. Before they had gone far, Pan Dehai left a fake body outside to drive the carriage while slipping into the compartment himself.
"Brother Li Seven, not to criticize you, but this matter requires utmost caution. If word leaks out, it'll be disastrous!"
"The peddler told me to pick up a carriage from you. Is this the one?" Though Li Banfeng had seen many miraculous engineering techniques, he found it impossible for this carriage to hold ten thousand people.
Pan Dehai shook his head. "What we need to get is a Haichi old carriage. I'll take you to see it in a bit. In the meantime, I have another good item here—take it first."
Old Pan pulled a small idol from his pocket and handed it to Li Banfeng. Li Banfeng glanced at it: the idol wore a Western suit and a fedora, the brim pulled low.
It was an idol of Lord Seven.
"What's the meaning of this?" Seeing Pan Dehai acting so secretive, Li Banfeng knew he wasn't just giving him an ornament.
Pan Dehai said, "It contains popular sentiment—Lord Seven's popular sentiment. Ordinarily, when popular sentiment is generated on my turf, I ought to keep at least half for myself. But I am a man of virtue; I won't take advantage of a younger generation like you. Besides, we share such deep friendship, so I'm giving all your popular sentiment back to you."
Did these words really just come out of Pan Dehai's mouth?
Was the person before him truly Pan Dehai?
Li Banfeng stared at Pan Dehai for a long while. Pan Dehai knitted his brows and said, "If you don't want it, forget it. Would I deceive you or something?"
"Can this thing really store popular sentiment?" Quite a few people had told Li Banfeng that only a local spirit seal could store popular sentiment.
"Whether it's genuine or not, you'll know once you try." Pan Dehai peeled off a talisman paper from the back of the idol.
Popular sentiment surged within the idol; Li Banfeng could clearly feel it.
With popular sentiment at hand, he absorbed it immediately to prevent complications.
Li Banfeng pressed the small idol against the top of his head. Popular sentiment poured into him in an endless stream; it took more than ten minutes to drain it completely.
Li Banfeng was thoroughly astonished. "There is this much popular sentiment in here?"
Pan Dehai nodded. "If you waited until after the New Year, there would be even more. Right now is precisely the time when they worship Lord Seven."
"That shouldn't be possible. What is the population of Haichiling? In just two years' time, how could there be so much popular sentiment?"
Pan Dehai sighed, "It truly makes this old man envious to death. An abundance of popular sentiment comes down to true sincerity. Haichiling's devotion toward you is genuine."
Chapter 622