Oil spread across Shu Wanjuan's legs. Only then did Shu Wanjuan realize Lian Buda had come fully prepared.
Shu Wanjuan's body instantly collapsed into ink, scattering into the oil.
Zhong'er was startled. Having read through many case files, the sight before him reminded him of certain tactics used by Literary Cultivators.
"Was that just his avatar earlier?"
"Use an avatar to catch me? As if he could!" Lian Buda gave a cold laugh. "Child, he isn't that reckless. What you just saw was the Founder of the Literary Cultivators. He is the most cautious man in this world. Either he never makes a move, or when he does, he ensures absolute success.
"His true self is here, but his true body can swap places with his avatar. Today, I won't let him swap. You go wait outside first! Don't call for anyone, don't make a sound, don't drag your senior brother into this, and don't drag anyone else into it either. Just watch from outside. Without my orders, you are not allowed to move!"
With a wave of Lian Buda's hand, Zhong'er slid right out through the front door.
Before even regaining his footing, Zhong'er immediately dialed Li Banfeng's number.
Lao Luo answered the phone. Zhong'er didn't dare make a sound, hoping only that Lao Luo would understand his predicament.
Inside the room, a blob of ink drifted back and forth, enveloped in a thick layer of oil.
Lian Buda chuckled. "Old thief, can't get out? In a bit, I'll turn you completely into oil."
The ink twisted and reformed into Shu Wanjuan's likeness. He wiped the grease stains from his gown, his expression as calm as ever.
"What do you hope to accomplish by trapping me? Reminisce about old times, or settle old scores? Feeling wronged in your heart? Are there things from back then that you still can't wrap your head around?" Shu Wanjuan pulled up a chair and sat across from Lian Buda, seemingly settling in for a long talk.
Lian Buda furrowed his brows and gritted his teeth. A slick of oil bubbled up from the chair, causing Shu Wanjuan to slip off.
Shu Wanjuan tumbled to the floor and gave a wry smile. "Does that vent your anger? If not, feel free to hit me a couple more times!"
With a wave of Lian Buda's hand, Shu Wanjuan's feet slipped out from under him again. He crashed onto the floor, his entire body shattering into scattered droplets of ink.
The ink pooled back together. Shu Wanjuan stood up, only to slip and fall again. He fell repeatedly, more than a dozen times, until his gown was torn, his folding fan broken, and his entire body covered in bloodstains.
Watching from outside the window, Zhong'er was growing anxious. Lian Buda was being far too childish.
Just how deep was the psychological trauma he had suffered that he felt compelled to reclaim face over petty things like this?
Shu Wanjuan's willingness to take a beating certainly wasn't out of guilt; he was clearly stalling for time.
Zhong'er didn't know what tier Shu Wanjuan was at, nor did he truly grasp what it meant to be the Founder of the Literary Cultivators, but he knew that for a cultivator of that caliber, enduring this degree of damage didn't even amount to scratching an itch.
Shu Wanjuan let out a sigh. "Now that you've vented your anger, will you allow me to say a few words?"
Lian Buda nodded. "Speak, then! Make it quick. Once you're done, I'll send you on your way."
Shu Wanjuan said, "Back then, it was Chaoge that wanted you captured. That was never my wish."
Lian Buda snorted. "Don't give me whose wish it was. Just tell me, did you make a move or not?"
Shu Wanjuan did not deny it. "I eat the sovereign's grain and serve the sovereign's cause. Having received His Majesty's decree, naturally I could not sit idly by. However, the memorial was submitted by Shan Chengjun, the manpower was assembled by Shan Chengjun, and the credit ultimately went to Shan Chengjun. If the blame is laid at my feet, surely that is hardly fair."
Lian Buda sat on the bed and laughed. "So it turns out you didn't get any credit, and it made you bitter. Did you come looking for me this time just to make up for lost merit?"
Shu Wanjuan shook his head. "I already occupy an exalted station; I no longer concern myself with mere merit. My coming to find you this time is because I wish to take you to Chaoge and secure a proper status for you."
Lian Buda looked taken aback. "Storyteller, have you lost your mind? What status could I possibly hold in the Inner States?"
Shu Wanjuan said, "As long as you are willing to come with me, you will be ennobled as a marquis the moment you reach Chaoge. I have already selected a fief for you—a fertile land of fish and rice, even richer and more prosperous than my own territory.
"The few old subordinates you had back then—I have settled them all as well. Once you reach Chaoge, they can serve as aides in your manor."
Lian Buda pulled the quilt tighter around himself. "What do I need aides for?"
Shu Wanjuan stroked the ribs of his folding fan, restoring it to its original shape, and spoke with a solemn expression: "To oversee a regional water vein and pathway. The court will support you with manpower and resources. Where the court falls short, I will help you as well. All grudges and grievances will turn to dust sooner or later. Life is short; it is time to do something of real consequence."
Lian Buda lowered his head. "Following the imperial court counts as doing something of consequence?"
Shu Wanjuan said, "Wasting away your years here in Puluo Province—does that count as something of consequence?"
Lian Buda said nothing.
Shu Wanjuan beckoned to Lian Buda. "Come, let us depart."
"I'm not going!" Lian Buda shook his head. "It's nice and warm under the covers. I'm not going anywhere."
Shu Wanjuan sighed. "I'm afraid that is not up to you."
As he spoke, Shu Wanjuan's fingertips twitched, and the folding fan in his hand suddenly transformed into a storyteller's gavel.
A flourish of the gavel in his palm produced four ancient, thread-bound, soft-cover books.
Shrinking under his quilt without moving, Lian Buda read the titles one by one: "*River of Forgotten Souls*, *Sworn Brotherhood Bond*, *Register of a Hundred Loyalists*, *Iron Bars*... These four are fine books."
Watching from outside, Zhong'er felt his heart race. He didn't know what purpose these four books served.
All four had enjoyed considerable fame in earlier years, considered classic works of Puluo Province.
*River of Forgotten Souls* told of a deceased spirit who had forgotten the memories of its current life yet refused to head to the underworld for reincarnation, wandering instead through the mortal world.
*Sworn Brotherhood Bond* told of heroic feats accomplished by two men who became sworn brothers, cutting through brambles and thorns to share adversity together.
*Register of a Hundred Loyalists* told tales of one hundred loyal officials and righteous generals serving the imperial court.
*Iron Bars* recounted various bizarre anecdotes about hunting and capturing all manner of rare and exotic beasts.
A burst of clamor arose from inside the room—people chatting, tea being poured, melon seeds being cracked—as though the room had transformed into a roadside teahouse.
*Smack!*
The gavel came down, and the room quieted slightly.
In clear, resonant tones, Shu Wanjuan recited:
"A three-foot Dragon Spring sword, ten thousand scrolls of lore,
What purpose did Heaven grant when birthing me ashore?
If I cannot serve the state and bring peace to the land,
In vain does a man take his place as a hero grand!"
This was the opening poem; Shu Wanjuan had begun his storytelling.
Zhong'er knew Shu Wanjuan was executing a technique, yet Lian Buda remained huddled in bed, whether unable to move or deliberately staying still.
His eyes wide, Lian Buda stared at Shu Wanjuan, looking very much like an attentive listener.
The four books unfurled one after another before Lian Buda. Shu Wanjuan spoke in four voices, completely independent of one another, narrating simultaneously.
Zhong'er had never read these four classics, but seeing the bizarre, hallucinatory transformations unfolding within the room, he realized they contained the very essence of Shu Wanjuan's tactical combat.
Against a figure like Lian Buda, ordinary methods were utterly useless; every step had to be calculated with meticulous precision.
First, Shu Wanjuan used the technique of Spitting Lotuses to speak of old days and recall past bonds, seizing upon Lian Buda's weakness of valuing sentiment and brotherhood to lower his guard.
Then, the plot of *River of Forgotten Souls* manifested scene by scene in the room. A solitary soul wandered to and fro, drifting aimlessly in confusion for a long while before twisting into a fierce, ferocious countenance.
That ferocious grimace was indeed terrifying, looking as if the deceased spirit had been provoked. But upon closer inspection, it seemed more as though the spirit were deliberately putting on a frightening visage to bolster its own courage.
Zhong'er thought to himself: *Could this be Lian Buda's current state of mind?*
Was Lian Buda's feigned composure and calm merely an attempt to summon courage?
Shu Wanjuan intended to bring out Lian Buda's true state of mind. *River of Forgotten Souls* caused Lian Buda to see himself as an unanchored wandering spirit, making him forget his current predicament.
With the first book quickly taking effect, *Sworn Brotherhood Bond* followed. Sworn brothers of different surnames united as one through trials of blade and fire, fighting side by side. The tear-jerking narrative pierced through Lian Buda's mind word by word, making him reminisce about his past camaraderie with Shu Wanjuan and gradually abandon his will to fight.
Next, the loyal ministers and valiant generals from *Register of a Hundred Loyalists* appeared in succession. Civil officials offered calm, earnest counsel, while martial generals gnashed their teeth, heaping rebukes and scolding upon Lian Buda until he felt so ashamed he wished the ground would swallow him up.
Meanwhile, *Iron Bars* lurked on the periphery. The rare beasts within their cages watched warily, waiting for Lian Buda to cease resisting. The moment he did, the iron bars sprang forth, trapping Lian Buda directly to ensure that even with wings he could not escape.
The entire tactic flowed seamlessly in one breath, executed with sweeping mastery, without a single flaw.
Shu Wanjuan's methods lay entirely beyond Zhong'er's comprehension. Only when he saw a dense cage of railings rise around Lian Buda did Zhong'er realize things had taken a dire turn.
Lian Buda was trapped, but what could Zhong'er do?
Charge in and fight for his life?
With his meager cultivation, a stray word or two springing from those books could easily claim his life.
Yet the bars around Lian Buda grew increasingly dense, encasing him completely. If Zhong'er didn't act soon, Lian Buda would be taken alive by Shu Wanjuan.
Just as Zhong'er was about to charge into the room, he heard Lian Buda shout from inside the cage, "Didn't I tell you that you weren't allowed to move? Are you not going to listen to your master?"
Lian Buda was still completely lucid!
Zhong'er was astonished, and Shu Wanjuan was somewhat surprised as well.
The closely spaced iron bars surrounding Lian Buda gradually faded in color. Zhong'er initially thought it was a trick of the eye, but looking closely, he could already make out Lian Buda's outline through the bars.
Still draped in his quilt, Lian Buda looked up at Shu Wanjuan and said slowly, "Just how many books do you carry on you?"
Shu Wanjuan did not reply.
Lian Buda sighed. "Nobody in this world knows how many books you have, nor does anyone know where your books are kept hidden.
"With ten thousand volumes of books, you can devise a hundred million tactical combinations. Guarding against tactics like yours is fundamentally impossible.
"Anyone who tries to match tactics with you is bound to suffer in the end—even the Peddler is no exception. Isn't that right?"
"You flatter me." Shu Wanjuan kept his eyes fixed on the increasingly blurred bars, pondering the cause while considering his next tactical move.
Lian Buda tugged at his quilt. "No flattery, I'm telling the truth. I never planned to match tactics with you—not from the very beginning. I've been sitting on this bed without moving an inch, not even daring to take off the quilt."
This was precisely what Shu Wanjuan found most curious. Every response Lian Buda had made so far had defied his expectations.
Lian Buda wiped the oily liquid from his face. His expression became clearer and clearer, while the color of the bars grew fainter and fainter. Around him, the manifested unanchored wandering soul, sworn brothers, and loyal officials and generals turned increasingly transparent and indistinct.
"This is still oil?" Shu Wanjuan discerned Lian Buda's method.
Lian Buda nodded. "Of course. I'm an Oil Cultivator—what else would I use but oil? When oil gets on paper, the paper becomes translucent, and the ink blurs.
"Your books are rather unique, and the paper they use is out of the ordinary; ordinary oil wouldn't adhere to it at all. But the oil I'm using is no ordinary oil either. This was prepared especially for you.
"I was just waiting for you to pull out your books so I could smear them with oil. You take out one, I smear one. I'm in no hurry at all."
Shu Wanjuan's brows knitted slightly. Compared to the past, Lian Buda had changed too much.
Over a hundred books flew out from Shu Wanjuan's gown. With prior experience, Lian Buda handled it with seasoned ease. Grease surged in all directions, soaking every book Shu Wanjuan released until each turned into a blurred smear of ink.
Contained within these books were Shu Wanjuan's lifeblood techniques, which naturally could not be squandered carelessly. He immediately altered his tactics, flicking an inkstone from his sleeve, dipping a brush in ink, and sweeping it across to write characters.
He wrote several times, but whether on the floor or on the walls, the strokes failed to take shape. Even when written in midair, they dissolved into formless blobs of ink.
This time, Zhong'er understood. In an oily mess, ink couldn't hold, making it impossible to form characters. He had encountered similar situations before when taking notes.
Unable to write characters, Shu Wanjuan spoke aloud directly: "Greasy and filthy, what propriety is there in this? It ought to—"
Zhong'er couldn't hear clearly what Shu Wanjuan was saying; the churning, vibrating grease in the room prevented Shu Wanjuan's voice from traveling properly.
Yet Lian Buda's voice came through crystal clear, speaking to Zhong'er: "Remember this well: taking the initiative is good, but you mustn't overreach. Especially against an opponent like Shu Wanjuan, taking seven parts and leaving three yields a far greater chance of victory."
Lian Buda had made thorough preparations beforehand, yet he had remained seated on the bed the entire time, leaving three parts of the initiative to Shu Wanjuan.
Engaged in combat with Shu Wanjuan, Lian Buda still didn't forget to lecture Zhong'er. This move was blatantly provocative.
Yet Shu Wanjuan showed not the slightest irritation. Writing didn't work, speaking didn't work, and prepared books didn't work, but he still had further tricks up his sleeve.
From within his robes, he produced a roll of bamboo slips.
Bamboo slips would not turn translucent from absorbing oil, nor would the characters carved and inked upon them blur from oil.
Character after character detached from the bamboo slips and marched toward Lian Buda.
He never struck lightly, and when he struck, success was guaranteed. Shu Wanjuan was confident this single roll of bamboo slips would subdue Lian Buda outright.
Lian Buda yelled at Zhong'er, "Get farther back!"
Zhong'er backed away immediately, and Lian Buda made a move that Shu Wanjuan could not fathom for the life of him.
He knocked over the oil lamp beside his bed.
The room was covered in oil everywhere. The moment the oil touched flame, it ignited on the spot.
Fire followed the trails of oil, racing toward Shu Wanjuan's bamboo slips. Unable to pull them back in time, Shu Wanjuan watched as the bamboo slips burned to ashes right then and there.
"What kind of tactic is this?" Shu Wanjuan shook his head. "Inflicting eight hundred casualties while losing ten thousand of your own. Once all your oil burns away, what will you fight with?"
What he said was true. Lian Buda had managed to remain at a standstill with Shu Wanjuan until now solely because of the oil. Sacrificing all his oil just for one roll of bamboo slips was clearly a losing trade.
Shu Wanjuan had only to wait until Lian Buda's oil burned dry, and victory would be firmly in his grasp!
Lian Buda was not worried. Draped in his quilt, he remained seated on the bed. "I've got plenty of oil. Let's watch as it burns."
Shu Wanjuan didn't quite understand. Who was he burning it for?
High upon the clouds, the Peddler stood looking down at the flames below.
"Lured them out!" With a faint smile on his face, the Peddler pushed his cart and leaped from the clouds.
Lian Buda's fire had been set precisely for the Peddler to see. If the Peddler saw it, he would come straight down and deal with Shu Wanjuan; if the Peddler didn't see it, Lian Buda would fight Shu Wanjuan to the bitter end.
The Peddler landed in a deep alley, a street away from Lian Buda's residence. Suddenly, a jar of vanishing cream on his cart toppled over, spilling milky-white cream across the merchandise rack.
He didn't rush to right it, because this occurrence was highly abnormal.
Using the Scrying Cultivator technique Illuminating the Obscure, he took a look. Beneath the jar of vanishing cream, a stalk of green bristlegrass had actually sprouted.
How could grass grow on his merchandise cart?
An old friend had arrived.
The corners of the Peddler's eyes twitched slightly. He wondered why these old friends had arrived at such an immaculate coincidence!
"Lian Baizi, when did you arrive? Didn't even give advance word?" Without touching the grass, the Peddler looked deep into the alley.
The green bristlegrass on the cart grew rapidly. In the blink of an eye, it went from a tender sprout to heading, swelling full of seeds.
The seeds broke free from the spikelet and shot toward the Peddler like bullets.
The Peddler shifted his steps to dodge, evading the seeds.
From both sides of the road, weeds thrust out fibrous roots to trip and tangle around the Peddler's ankles.
The grass seeds flew with extreme speed. Failing to strike the Peddler, they curved around in a half-arc and continued their pursuit.
The fibrous roots on the ground tangled with deadly accuracy, clinging close to the Peddler's ankles. If the Peddler was even slightly slower, he risked being tripped to the ground.
With these wild grasses pursuing so relentlessly, it didn't seem to be the work of Lian Baizi alone. Who else could there be?
*Whoosh!*
A gust of night wind blew past. The old poplar trees in the alley rustled noisily, and a vast flock of leaves flew over.
The leaves swirled back and forth around the Peddler. Several leaves passed straight through his body, avoided by the Peddler using the Carefree and Unfettered technique.
A tree branch flew toward the Peddler's face. Just as the Peddler was about to catch it with his hand to examine its quality, someone beat him to it, intercepting the branch.
"Brother, do be careful! This branch is exceptionally vicious—it's deadly if it strikes you." The one who caught the branch was a woman appearing to be in her early thirties, with a round face, large eyes, thick lips, and the countenance of a virtuous wife and loving mother.
The branch was indeed vicious, piercing clean through the woman's palm. She let out a coquettish whine. "Brother, I blocked this blow for you. You have to appreciate the favor."
The Peddler looked at the woman and said, "Xianyao, I really don't want to accept any favor from you."
With a face full of grievance, Song Xianyao said, "Brother, I got hurt for your sake, and you don't even feel bad for me?"
Even if he didn't feel bad, he had to; the woman had invested heavily, and her Offering Cultivator technique had already been successfully established.
The Peddler nodded. "I was wondering how a mere tree branch could wound you. It turns out Shan Chengjun is here as well."
Crouching in the poplar tree, Shan Chengjun smiled down at the Peddler. "Originally, I didn't come for you. His Majesty gave me other tasks, but I feel that as long as you're alive, nothing I do will ever go smoothly. So I dropped by to see you on my way."
The Peddler was none too pleased. "Dropped by to see me? Your etiquette is quite lacking."
"How could I ever lack etiquette when it comes to you?" Shan Chengjun tore off a handful of leaves and lightly scattered them into the air. "Quite a few people came today—all of them made a special trip just to see you."
Chapter 705