Li Banfeng wanted to head to the Dark Star Bureau and have another go with A'yu.
After taking in Smiling Thousand Hands this time, the entire household's strength had grown considerably, but his wife had fallen into a deep sleep and was not at her best.
Furthermore, according to the old master, when the household feasted here, Lai Wuju would also benefit. If she were to collude with A'yu from inside and out, the companion dwelling might not be able to hold them off, and their situation would turn perilous.
Go without the little train?
Li Banfeng weighed his current combat strength and felt that would be slightly overconfident.
His techniques had advanced a great deal, but his cultivation still fell somewhat short. Whether as a Dwelling Cultivator or a Travel Cultivator, at the stage of the fourth tier above the clouds, there was still plenty of room for improvement. To wrestle with someone of A'yu's caliber, he still lacked a bit of mettle.
He would go harvest another wave of vital energy to see how much higher his combat strength could climb.
The vital energy in Xiaodu and Boundless City had just been gathered and could be left to accumulate for a while longer.
The vital energy in Green Water City and Haichiling was about ready to be collected.
Yet Li Banfeng was still uneasy about Tiemen Fort; he didn't know whether the Brotherhood Alliance would return.
***
Covered in wounds and bruises, Shen Jiming arrived at Ling's Film Company and stood before Shen Rongqing, pouring out his grievances.
"Cousin, we took a terrible beating this time! Every single one of us came back injured, and one brother from the Ghost Hand Sect is still missing without a trace. We need an answer for this!"
Shen Rongqing felt that inserting counterfeit Passion Roots into the motion pictures was bound to be exposed sooner or later, and getting beaten once the ruse was uncovered was only to be expected.
Still, Shen Jiming was her cousin, so she couldn't put it too bluntly, and he truly had only been acting on He Jiaqing's orders.
"I'll let Jiaqing know right away. Brother, go draw some money first to tend to the brothers' injuries."
He Jiaqing was currently in the newland discussing matters with Shu Wanjuan. With the full backing of the Inner States, He Jiaqing was reclaiming land at full speed, having already cleared nearly half of the thirteen newlands.
Shu Wanjuan was somewhat uneasy. "No one reclaims newland in such haste. Back when Li Qi founded Qiqiu City, he never moved this fast."
He Jiaqing said, "Senior, Li Qi fought all on his own—how much of a storm could he stir up? We have the imperial court behind us—"
"Ignorant cur! Do you truly know no fear of death?" Shu Wanjuan ground his teeth. "If word leaks out, do you know what the consequences will be?"
He Jiaqing offered a salute. "Senior, calm your anger. Even if word leaks out, what of it? You reclaim land here with the sanction of the imperial court, and I reclaim land here with the sanction of the peddler. Both of us act with full legitimacy. Why harbor so many misgivings?"
*What an insolent scoundrel!* The territory was clearly stolen, yet he puffed his chest and prattled on about acting with full legitimacy.
Things had come to this pass entirely by his doing, yet far from showing remorse, the thief was smug and at peace with himself!
A cold glint flared in Shu Wanjuan's eyes. For an instant, murderous intent toward He Jiaqing surged within him. His body had mostly recovered; he was now confident he could slay He Jiaqing.
The button on He Jiaqing's chest vibrated. He hastily apologized to Shu Wanjuan: "Some trivial matters require my attention. Please pardon this junior for a moment."
Shu Wanjuan gave a slight nod.
He Jiaqing walked into the woods and gripped the button.
Shen Rongqing relayed what had happened to Shen Jiming in Tiemen Fort. He Jiaqing's face darkened. "Send word to them. I will handle this matter personally."
As He Jiaqing stepped out of the woods, the characters for "eye" and "ear" surfaced upon the trunk of a tree.
Shu Wanjuan's brow knitted tightly. Judging by He Jiaqing's expression just now and the tone of his voice, something major must have happened.
Had the truth about the newland been exposed?
If he killed He Jiaqing now to silence him, would it still be in time?
Who was the person who contacted him just now? How many people knew about this matter now?
Beads of sweat seeped from his forehead one by one. By the time He Jiaqing reappeared, Shu Wanjuan's expression had already returned to normal. "Jiaqing, what happened?"
He Jiaqing smiled nonchalantly. "A trifle, not worth mentioning. Senior, could you ask the imperial court for more manpower? I feel our land reclamation is still a bit too slow."
"Still too slow?" Shu Wanjuan lowered his brows, looking at He Jiaqing.
He Jiaqing truly did think it was slow. "Senior, the longer the night, the more dreams breed. Getting this done sooner won't do either of us any harm."
"Very well." Shu Wanjuan nodded slightly.
***
That night, He Jiaqing returned to the film company, sought out Shen Jiming, and had him recount everything from start to finish.
After listening, He Jiaqing realized Shen Rongqing hadn't made things clear earlier: "At first, I thought it was the local land god who beat you. I never expected it was Dwelling Cultivators who gave you the thrashing."
Shen Jiming hung his head in shame, thinking He Jiaqing was chiding them for being useless. But He Jiaqing was focused on an entirely different question.
"If you truly were beaten by Song Qianhun, I should take the matter up with him. But if you were beaten by Dwelling Cultivators, that's unnatural. Since when have the Dwelling Cultivators of Tiemen Fort ever been so aggressive?"
Shen Rongqing spoke up from the side. "We planted Passion Roots in them, and the scheme was exposed. It's only natural they'd retaliate. Can you really call them aggressive?"
"Why can't I?" He Jiaqing frowned. "We treated them to movies and even gave them money. In return, they beat our people up. Isn't that making trouble out of nothing? Since when did this bunch of Dwelling Cultivators become so unreasonable? Rongqing, go look into whether anything happened in Tiemen Fort."
Shen Rongqing managed a newspaper office. She checked past newspapers and only dug up a few bits of information: "Tiemen Fort once had a conflict with Flying Eagle Mountain, but that was news from two years ago."
He Jiaqing looked displeased. "Flying Eagle Mountain has conflicts with Tiemen Fort every single year, extorting a hefty sum of money from them each time. Does that even count as news?"
Shen Rongqing said nothing more.
In truth, the news she had uncovered contained other details: led by their Fort Master, Tiemen Fort had launched a counterattack against Flying Eagle Mountain at that time. That, too, had been vastly different from Tiemen Fort's usual conduct.
However, there was no solid evidence for these reports, only rumors gathered from the locals. Seeing He Jiaqing's attitude, Shen Rongqing didn't care to explain further.
Whenever he encountered anything out of the ordinary, He Jiaqing never took it lightly. The next morning, he went to Lu's Bookhouse and asked Boss Lu to look up news regarding Tiemen Fort in the newspapers over the past two years.
Though He Jiaqing had once led a night raid against Lu's Bookhouse, neither man had ever brought it out into the open.
Boss Lu seemed a bit put on the spot. "Young Master He, that won't be easy to find. A place like Tiemen Fort rarely makes the papers."
He Jiaqing smiled. "It's precisely because there is little news that it should be easy to find. If I were looking for news about the Paramount, who knows what year we'd finish searching."
Boss Lu poured tea for He Jiaqing and instructed his clerk to look for the newspapers.
Standing by a bookshelf, He Jiaqing glanced over it, and a book titled *Mochun Pavilion* caught his attention.
"I haven't seen this book before."
Boss Lu smiled. "Young Master He has a sharp eye. This is a new release."
"*Mochun Pavilion*," He Jiaqing murmured, studying the cover. "A fine title. The aroma of mellow ink hits the nose."
Boss Lu nodded repeatedly. "To catch the scent of ink shows your refined taste, Young Master. This book recounts the strange and marvelous anecdotes encountered by a bookstore shopkeeper."
He Jiaqing remarked in surprise, "Could it be that Boss Lu penned this yourself? In that case, I must buy a set."
Boss Lu shook his head again and again. "The Young Master jokes. Since you like this book, I'll have someone deliver a copy to your place."
He Jiaqing said, "I can't take it for nothing. Tally the cost of the book together with the newspapers."
"Then thank you, Young Master." As he spoke, Boss Lu walked over to a corner of the bookhouse and drew back a curtain. "My humble shop has long enjoyed your patronage, Young Master, yet I have had no good way to repay you. Please, allow me to treat you to a song."
He Jiaqing thought Boss Lu was going to play a song on a gramophone, but once the curtain was drawn aside, he saw a radio set sitting in the corner of the bookhouse.
In Puluo Province, anyone capable of tuning into radio broadcasts was no ordinary figure. Such individuals were either Electric Cultivators or possessed treasures crafted by them.
Boss Lu was indeed far from ordinary; He Jiaqing knew that well enough. Yet why he was unveiling this radio today was something He Jiaqing couldn't quite fathom.
Flipping the switch, Boss Lu adjusted the dials and soon tuned into a station.
"Young Master He, please wait a moment. This station will be playing music shortly."
A'hui's voice emerged from the radio: "Winter is fast approaching. To all our listener friends gathered in the mountains and forests, please seize the time to prepare winter provisions and ready yourselves for heavy snow blocking the mountain passes.
"In addition, we interrupt with an important announcement: Will all listeners who enjoy motion pictures please pass the word to one another. Do not, under any circumstances, go to watch any installment of the *Blood Blade Detective* series, nor should your family or friends. These motion pictures contain Passion Cultivator techniques that inflict severe harm on the human mind. Listener friends, please be on your guard."
The broadcast ended, and A'hui played a song: "Lovesickness, oh lovesickness, an abyss without an end. Forsaking tea and rice, chilling the pillow and bed, the more one pines, the sharper the pain..."
The title of the song was "Lovesickness."
Listening to the song, veins throbbed on He Jiaqing's forehead.
He knew A'hui was Teacher Song, and he understood she harbored certain prejudices against him.
Yet that she would undercut him so openly over the radio was something He Jiaqing had truly never anticipated.
Teacher Song would have to explain this clearly. Never mind past grievances or who was right and wrong—presently, everyone was serving the Brotherhood Alliance. An act like this was tantamount to betraying her own brethren. She had to give an accounting!
Boss Lu tapped along to the melody on the table. "Young Master He, isn't it a pleasant tune?"
He Jiaqing nodded slightly. "Quite pleasant. Do you have a record of this song here?"
"I do. Allow me to give you a copy."
He Jiaqing shook his head. "I certainly can't take it for nothing; I'll buy it. Take your time looking for the newspapers, and once you've found them, send them all over to my place."
When he had raided the bookhouse at night back then, He Jiaqing had assumed he had formed a grudge with Boss Lu. Now that trouble had arisen, he had never expected Boss Lu would still be willing to give him a heads-up.
Leaving the bookhouse with a solemn expression, He Jiaqing returned to the film company, completely unaware of an acquaintance lingering near the bookstore.
Shu Wanjuan looked toward Lu's Bookhouse, the brow over his right eye lifting faintly.
***
At half past nine in the evening, as Boss Lu prepared to close up shop, an elderly man wearing a greenish-blue long gown, a purple scarf around his neck, and a pair of round-framed spectacles stepped into the bookstore.
The weather was cold, and a layer of white mist had fogged over the lenses. The old man took off his spectacles and wiped them clean.
His gown was quite worn, faded from washing, with patches in many places. By all appearances, he was far from well-off. Yet he was impeccably neat, his hair combed tidy, carrying an elegance unique to men of letters.
"Sir, have you come to purchase books?" Even near closing time, Boss Lu would never turn away such a customer.
The old man's face flushed. "I have come to... sell books."
Yu Yaoming came down from the second floor and stared at the old man for a moment.
The old man's face turned even redder.
Boss Lu waved a hand, gesturing for his clerk to escort Yu Yaoming back upstairs.
Yu Yaoming asked the clerk, "Who is that?"
The clerk replied, "Someone selling books."
"Can't I even look?"
The clerk explained, "This old gentleman is clearly a scholar. Unless driven to wits' end, how could a scholar bear to part with his books? Our boss wants to spare him some dignity. Staring at him like that will only make the gentleman feel humiliated."
Hearing this, Yu Yaoming felt somewhat ashamed. He was an academic who respected scholars, and he truly had been impolite just now. Still, he surmised that Boss Lu wouldn't mistreat the old gentleman.
The old man took out a volume of the *Green Jade Poetry Collection* and handed it to Boss Lu.
The *Green Jade Poetry Collection* was one of the earliest poetry anthologies in Puluo Province, compiling fine works from many poets. The copy in the old man's hands was not particularly well preserved, full of dog-ears and chipped corners. However, this edition was exceedingly rare: the very first print run.
The first edition favored quantity over quality, gathering all poems and essays with any renown in Puluo Province at the time without distinguishing the good from the bad. Later generations, during their compilations, had culled what they judged to be dross according to their own standards. As a result, the number of poems shrank steadily until the editions currently on the market contained less than half of the original volume, which in turn elevated the value of the first edition.
Boss Lu examined the volume and asked, "Old sir, is it just this single volume?"
The old man hung his head. "All thirty-six volumes... I have them all. It's just..."
Boss Lu knew the old man was reluctant to part with them. "For this single volume, I will pay five silver dollars. If you sell the entire complete set, I'll pay three hundred silver dollars."
The old man lifted his head, his eyes reddening. "Truly?"
Boss Lu took out five silver dollars and pressed them into the old man's hand.
The old man pursed his lips. "The remaining thirty-five volumes are at my house. I'll take you to fetch them—"
As he spoke, the old man trembled all over, half from gratitude and half from heartbreak.
Boss Lu said, "Are you certain you've thought this through?"
"I... have thought it through!"
Boss Lu personally accompanied the old man to his home.
The old man lived in Yuanzhu Ward in the southern part of Green Water City. This was an old district where the buildings were relatively dilapidated. The old man possessed a small courtyard and two single-story rooms, the patched and mended marks on the walls outnumbering even the patches on his clothes.
Yet stepping inside revealed an entirely different world.
The interior was swept spotlessly clean. Along both walls stood ceiling-high bookshelves neatly lined with all manner of volumes.
Boss Lu's eyes widened in astonishment. These were all magnificent works.
A complete set of *New Tales of Falling Flowers*, an unexpurgated *Records of Shattered Glaze Shadows*, a first edition of *New Verses of the Green Gown*, and even Boss Lu's own unedited early work, *Embroidered Frost Anthology*, were all resting on the shelves.
The old man kept his head lowered. "You are a lover of books. Whichever you fancy, feel free to take and read."
Boss Lu felt a surge of excitement. Reaching toward *New Verses of the Green Gown*, he asked, "Are all these books for sale?"
The old man nodded. "As long as the price is right, everything is for sale."
Boss Lu drew his hand back and turned to look at the old man.
The old man chuckled. "If you feel you haven't brought enough money, take them back to read first. It doesn't matter if you pay nothing—consider them a gift from me."
Boss Lu frowned. "Honored Master, I fear such a lavish gift is far more than I can accept."
The old man pulled up a chair and sat before Boss Lu. "In all our years as master and disciple, I have never given you anything decent. Consider this room full of books a modest token from your master."
Boss Lu's face turned ashen. The old man standing before him was none other than his mentor, Shu Wanjuan.
"Wencheng, after so many years, you still love reading just as much. At least you haven't abandoned the fundamentals of our Daoist gate."
Boss Lu replied, "Master overpraises me. I simply never imagined that Master would stoop to deceptive tricks, and execute them with greater mastery than an Opera Cultivator."
From the moment the old man stepped through his shop door, Boss Lu had sensed his bearing was extraordinary. Yet Shu Wanjuan understood Boss Lu's temperament, knowing his deep love of books and his reverence for scholars. Thus, he had disguised himself as a down-and-out man of letters to lure Boss Lu out of the bookstore.
Inside Lu's Bookhouse, Shu Wanjuan truly had no assurance of overpowering him. But now that they were inside this house, things were vastly different.
"Wencheng, I have no desire to make things difficult for you today. I only wish to ask you one thing: why did He Jiaqing seek you out during the day?"
Boss Lu said, "He came to buy some newspapers, a set of books, and a record. There was nothing else."
Shu Wanjuan shook his head. "You shouldn't lie to your master."
"I am not lying. You can bring He Jiaqing here to confront me face-to-face."
Shu Wanjuan reached out, and a volume of *Embroidered Frost Anthology* flew down from the shelf. He turned to a page and gently traced the characters:
"Wencheng, in terms of cultivation, you are the highest among my disciples; in terms of character, you are the worst among my students. Whenever I see these foul, sickening verses you've penned, I feel thorns at my back and find food impossible to swallow. I often wonder why such a scoundrel emerged from under my tutelage."
Every word struck at the very core of Boss Lu's heart, yet he showed no anger. Instead, he took the initiative to ask for punishment: "This disciple's character is corrupt, and I truly have no right to remain under Master's gate. Master may treat me as if I never existed as your disciple. Whatever I do henceforth has nothing to do with Master."
With a flick of Shu Wanjuan's finger, the characters on the page materialized one by one into solid objects, surrounding Boss Lu. "To speak such words—where is your conscience? Were it not for me holding nothing back in my teaching, how could you have attained your cultivation today? Because of our bond as master and disciple, do you know how much of my reputation was ruined?"
Boss Lu smiled faintly. "Master overstates things. From the day you defected to the Inner States, Master has had no reputation left to speak of."
Hearing this, Shu Wanjuan's face darkened. His fingers trembled, and a flurry of characters surged toward Boss Lu. The character for *knife* brought blades, the character for *fire* spewed flames, and two characters for *poison* billowed noxious smoke all around, encircling Boss Lu and unleashing their respective powers.
From his robes, Boss Lu produced a book—the unfinished manuscript of the sixth volume of *Mochun Pavilion*. Flipping to a blank page, he absorbed all the surrounding characters into the paper.
Shu Wanjuan gave a slight nod. "Some progress. Your natural talent within our Daoist gate is indeed rare."
"Thank you for the praise, Master. If there is nothing else, this disciple shall take his leave."
Boss Lu turned to leave, but thirty-five volumes of the *Green Jade Poetry Collection* flew from the shelves, blocking his path.
"The books aren't bought yet, and you wish to leave? Can you escape?" Shu Wanjuan was not boasting. He possessed the technique of Heaven's Harmony; every character could serve as his weapon or his surrogate.
Every book filling the room had been conditioned by Shu Wanjuan. Boss Lu had virtually no hope of getting away.
"Master must take this disciple's life?" Boss Lu held the manuscript, his fingers continuously flipping pages.
"Not necessarily." Shu Wanjuan commanded the thirty-five volumes of the *Green Jade Poetry Collection* to return to the shelves. "Tell me of your dealings with He Jiaqing, and I will let you leave at once."
"There have never been any dealings between us. If Master does not believe me, this disciple has nothing more to say."
Shu Wanjuan sighed. "Let us set that aside for now. I ask you another question: is the Heirloom Seal of the Realm in your possession?"
Boss Lu shook his head. "This disciple did travel to Sage Peak to seek the Heirloom Seal of the Realm, but I failed to obtain it."
"Then tell me, who got their hands on it?"
"This disciple truly does not know."
"Wencheng, oh Wencheng, you truly don't know—you don't know what's good for you!"
With a sweep of Shu Wanjuan's hand, thousands of books upon the shelves burst open in unison, and countless characters gushed forth like a torrent.
Boss Lu's figure was swallowed whole by the sea of characters. Numbering no fewer than tens of millions, they were far more than a single manuscript could ever ward off.
By Shu Wanjuan's estimation, in less than ten seconds, Boss Lu would be reduced to a heap of ashes.
Yet he did not want Boss Lu dead; there were still many things he wished to pry from his mouth.
At precisely five seconds, Shu Wanjuan commanded the characters to return to their places and abruptly rose to his feet.
He did not see Boss Lu. Instead, an extra house stood in his room, merely three feet high. Above its entrance hung a horizontal plaque bearing four characters: *Lu's Bookhouse*.
How could his bookhouse be here?
After a moment of astonishment, Shu Wanjuan realized the cause.
*Mochun Pavilion* was Boss Lu's new work, recounting the experiences of a bookstore shopkeeper. It contained extensive descriptions of a bookstore, and Boss Lu had relied on those very descriptions to construct a replica of Lu's Bookhouse.
Once inside Lu's Bookhouse, Boss Lu's whereabouts became impossible to track; he could travel swiftly from one bookhouse to another.
Shu Wanjuan considered squeezing into the three-foot bookhouse to pursue Boss Lu, but he was unwilling to take the risk.
Within Lu's Bookhouse, anyone engaging Boss Lu in battle might suffer a loss.
Yet Shu Wanjuan was not about to let Boss Lu slip away like this. Summoning a writing brush to his hand, he swept it through the air and wrote over a hundred instances of the character for *chaos*.
These *chaos* characters rapidly seeped into the three-foot bookhouse. Watching the miniature building twist and distort, Shu Wanjuan smiled.
In Yuanzhu Ward, Boss Lu, who had intended to return to his bookhouse in Yaowanggou, suddenly materialized in a deep alley. The pathway connecting the bookhouses had been thrown into disarray, leading him in the wrong direction.
Boss Lu withdrew an inkstone from his sleeve and flung its ink outward. A trail of black ink was left across the ground, leaping over the alley's buildings and stretching eastward toward Fuyun Avenue.
Following the ink trail, he could have walked back to his bookhouse in under ten paces. To his dismay, before he had taken even two steps, Shu Wanjuan had already closed in.
Grasping the manuscript, Boss Lu racked his brain for a way out.
Building another bookhouse was out of the question; there weren't enough characters left in the manuscript.
How else could he break free?
Boss Lu glanced at a three-story Western-style house by the roadside. Its design was unique, imbued with an elegant scholarly air.
If he hung a plaque on this three-story house, perhaps it could barely serve as a substitute bookhouse.
Boss Lu splashed the ink from his inkstone into the courtyard. Following the ink, his figure flashed right before the Western-style house's entrance.
Lifting his brush, he prepared to paint a plaque upon the entryway canopy, but a massive sweep of black ink struck, painting Boss Lu's plaque pitch-black.
Pitch-black worked just as well—white characters on a black background would do! Boss Lu dipped his brush into white paint, preparing to write the shop sign directly over the black ink. Yet the moment he penned the character *Lu*, the black ink washed over and swallowed the white strokes.
After failing several times in succession, Boss Lu found himself surrounded once more by layer upon layer of characters.
A cluster of characters coalesced into Shu Wanjuan's true form, who declared toward Boss Lu, "Wencheng, for the sake of our past bond as master and disciple, I will give you one more chance. Are you truly—"
*Bang!*
Shu Wanjuan abruptly scattered into a heap of ink splatters.
Over ten meters away, a flurry of characters reassembled into Shu Wanjuan. Turning his gaze toward the spot where he had just stood, he saw Li Qi dressed in a suit and a fedora, glaring at him with blazing eyes.
The reason Shu Wanjuan had shattered into ink was that Li Qi had delivered a solid kick to him.
Shu Wanjuan took in a sharp breath. Li Qi had actually gotten involved! Could he also know about the newland? Were Li Qi, He Jiaqing, and Zhou Wencheng all in league together?
Boss Lu was also wondering inwardly: *What is Li Qi doing here? Could it be for the Heirloom Seal of the Realm?*
Li Banfeng ground his teeth, his gaze darting between the two men before him.
*Running over to scribble and smear ink all over my house in the dead of night—what in the world do they think they're doing?*
P.S. Li Qi has a dark-dimension space in Yuanzhu Ward, where the covenant deed to Green Water City is buried; see Chapter 525 for details.
Chapter 760