Chapter 105: Cultivation Level One Barrier

For shipping, we can’t go through the Song family; Ma Wu has his own channels.

Li Banfeng followed Ma Wu to the village entrance; it was already late, the steam roller had been shut down, and several workers were preparing to clock out.

One worker spotted Ma Wu and, while the others weren’t looking, slipped over quietly.

“Young Master Wu, you’re looking for me?” This worker’s name was Qin Haichuan; Ma Wu called him Xiao Chuanzi.

Ma Wu nodded, pulled out a locked wooden box from his chest, and handed it to Xiao Chuan: “Deliver this to the shopkeeper of Yufangzhai. If you get it done, I’ll reward you twenty thousand.”

Li Banfeng whispered beside him: “Don’t wait until it’s done—give him ten thousand upfront as deposit. I’ve got it ready.”

Hearing this, Ma Wu’s face lit up; he took the ten thousand and handed it to Xiao Chuan.

Xiao Chuan bowed repeatedly in thanks, slipped the box away without being noticed, and hurried out of the village.

On the way back, Ma Wu expressed deep gratitude to Li Banfeng: “I was just about to give Xiao Chuan a deposit, but I was short on cash.”

Li Banfeng pulled out another twenty thousand in cash and shoved it into Ma Wu’s hands: “Take this money. Go cultivate.”

Ma Wu pushed it back: “How can I accept this? I’m already drawing your salary and eating your elixirs—I can’t keep spending your money.”

“I’m not giving it to you. I’m lending it. Write me an IOU tomorrow. When you make a profit, we split it. How are you going to find girls if you have no money?”

Ma Wu took the money, his expression slightly excited, and whispered: “Then I won’t be going home tonight.”

Li Banfeng nodded: “Watch out for Song family members—and also your own people.”

Ma Wu said: “Once the bead is sold, after cutting out the middleman’s cut, we’ll net around two million. What’s your plan, Brother Li?”

“What plan? Keep making money! This is barely anything.”

Ma Wu nodded: “For the next deal, we need to prepare supplies in advance.”

“Other things are easy, but you figure out the stinking fish yourself,” Li Banfeng said, glancing back at the village entrance. “Can we trust the guy operating the roller?”

Ma Wu nodded: “He’s reliable. This road was built by my family. Xiao Chuan and I are close.”

Li Banfeng asked: “Can I borrow the roller for a spin?”

Ma Wu blinked: “Brother Li, you’re being a bit…”

“What’s wrong with driving it? It won’t break.”

Ma Wu wasn’t sure if Li Banfeng was joking, but he agreed anyway: “Fine. I’ll talk to them another day.”

At a fork in the road, Ma Wu pointed eastward: “Brother Li, ahead is Jiqing Troupe. It’s a bit shabby, but they’ve got a few good girls. Want to go together?”

Li Banfeng raised an eyebrow: “I’m not a Huan Xiu. Why would I go with you?”

Ma Wu pursed his lips: “You don’t have to be a Huan Xiu to go.”

Li Banfeng asked again: “I’m a Lv Xiu. Can I drag girls around everywhere?”

Ma Wu paused a long while: “No… you can’t.”

“If you can’t drag girls around, you can’t cultivate. If you can’t cultivate, what’s the point of having girls?”

Li Banfeng turned and walked away.

Ma Wu shivered in the wind.

This whole thing had lost its fun.

He was right. This was all for cultivation.

…

In the Lu family mansion, Lu Dongliang’s face was dark as he stared at Zhuo Yuling.

“After searching Yaowang Gou for so many days, where is Li Banfeng?”

Xiaolan keeps insisting the Bronze Lotus is in Li Banfeng’s hands. We’ve turned the whole Yaowang Gou upside down—has anyone seen this Li Banfeng?”

Zhuo Yuling lowered her head slightly and spoke calmly: “I heard from Xiaolan that Li Banfeng is cunning. Maybe he’s hiding too well. Let’s search two more days…”

“Cunning? Now he’s cunning? Didn’t you say he was lower than a cockroach? Now you’re telling me about his cunning?”

Zhuo Yuling bit her lip, tears streaming down: “Master, do you really despise my daughter and me so much? Everything we say, you refuse to believe.”

Lu Dongliang put on his custom-made English wool overcoat and stood up to leave.

Wearing this coat meant he was about to deal with powerful people.

The He family’s pressure was growing heavier.

The outside states were still waiting for an explanation about the derailment of Train 1160.

The Xuan Sheng Hong Lian remained silent. Lu Dongliang had angered the He family and gained nothing. Now he truly regretted believing Zhuo Yuling and Lu Xiaolan.

“Talk to her about real business, don’t sit here crying in front of me!”

The more Zhuo Yuling acted this way, the more irritated Lu Dongliang became.

Lu Dongliang left. Zhuo Yuling frowned tightly.

Dabo Yins had still not found any trace of Li Banfeng.

If things continued like this, Xiaolan was in danger.

Zhuo Yuling went to check on Lu Xiaolan’s quarters.

By Lu Dongliang’s orders, no one was allowed to visit Lu Xiaolan.

But Zuo Wugang, the head guard, made no move to stop her.

Zuo Wugang wasn’t a stickler for rules. With the master gone, Zhuo Yuling was still Xiaolan’s biological mother. He’d just look the other way.

Zhuo Yuling walked to Lu Xiaolan’s side and saw several cuts on her wrist—her face changed instantly: “Xiaolan, what are you doing?”

Lu Xiaolan looked stunned: “Mom, I haven’t done anything…”

Zhuo Yuling’s body trembled slightly.

This child was trying to kill herself.

…

Late at night, Lu Dongliang returned to the mansion. He didn’t want to sleep in the main bedroom—today’s negotiations had gone poorly, and he didn’t want to hear the chief wife nagging or Zhuo Yuling complaining.

He’d planned to just rest in any spare room, but when he opened the door, he found Xiao Yeci reading by lamplight.

Seeing Lu Dongliang enter, Xiao Yeci quickly rose and bowed: “Master, you’ve come.”

She was desperately suppressing her speech habits.

Lu Dongliang had forgotten Xiao Yeci was staying in this guest room. He’d intended to leave immediately, but after studying her carefully, he pulled up a chair and sat down.

Xiao Yeci’s heart shot straight to her throat.

Lu Dongliang frowned slightly: “You said thirteen years ago, you and I spent one night in Ye Songqiao?”

The question was blunt.

Xiao Yeci’s face flushed instantly: “Master, you… surely don’t remember…”

“I truly don’t remember,” Lu Dongliang answered frankly. He wasn’t a meticulous man. Two things in his life he could never recall clearly: the women he’d slept with, and the money he’d spent. Both were too numerous to count.

Silence stretched between them. Then Lu Dongliang suddenly asked: “How old are you now? Are you twenty-five?”

“Yes, I am…” Xiao Yeci accidentally slipped into her old speech habit. She cleared her throat and adjusted her tone: “I’m thirty-two this year.”

“Thirty-two,” Lu Dongliang scoffed. “My eyes aren’t blind. Your clothes are outdated, your makeup is outdated—but I can tell you’re no older than twenty-four or twenty-five.”

I saw Chunying. She looks like me—she’s definitely my blood. But she’s twelve now. How could she be your daughter?”

“How old were you when she was born? Even if I were the worst man alive, I wouldn’t have touched a half-grown girl.”

“Master, I really am thirty-two. I’m not lying. You truly don’t remember me.”

“Fine. I believe you. Since you came to me, I’ll make you my ninth concubine. In a few days, I’ll throw a few banquets, settle the matter, and give you a proper status.”

“Thank you, Master,” Xiao Yeci bowed quickly.

“Since you’re mine, I’ll sleep here tonight.” He took off his yellow wool overcoat.

Xiao Yeci’s face turned as red as a persimmon. She knew this was inevitable. She couldn’t, and shouldn’t, refuse—but her heart agreed while her mouth spoke otherwise: “I’m not feeling well tonight. Let me serve you another day.”

“Hmph~” Lu Dongliang chuckled. “Fine. Then another day.”

He picked up his coat and left.

Even if Xiao Yeci had wanted him to stay, Lu Dongliang wouldn’t have remained.

This woman was not Lu Chunying’s mother.

Lu Dongliang still didn’t know what her true purpose was in coming to the Lu family.

But Lu Chunying was genuinely fond of him.

Once the truth was uncovered, this woman calling herself Xiao Yeci would have to disappear.

Lu Dongliang went downstairs.

Zhuo Yuling climbed onto the roof along the wall.

It was her signature skill—her voice was so quiet even a ninth-level Lv Xiu like Lu Dongliang hadn’t noticed.

But she knew she wasn’t his match. She was only a fifth-level Wu Xiu. One blink from Lu Dongliang could kill her.

Hanging upside down on the roof, she silently watched his back, her eyes filled with bitter resentment.

In her mouth was a worm, the size of a thumb, deep green and glossy.

Every ounce of malice radiating from her was devoured clean by the worm.

…

Li Banfeng and Ma Wu visited the new lands several more times. In two months, they earned over seven million, and with their previous savings, Li Banfeng was getting closer to twenty million.

But this money wasn’t just his—he planned to split half with Ma Wu.

And money alone wasn’t enough. To buy a travel permit, you needed connections.

Li Banfeng asked Ma Wu. Ma Wu sighed: “A few months ago, getting a travel permit to the outer states wouldn’t have been hard for me.”

I wouldn’t have needed two million. Just a lunch at Dongzhuang Restaurant, a dinner and drinks at Bailamen, a few good girls, and some silver coins—done. But now, all that’s useless.”

Even if I had two million now, none of them would even meet me.

Li Banfeng frowned: “Pay and still not seen? Looks like the money still isn’t enough.”

“This isn’t about money—it’s about status. I’m no longer on the same level as those people; they wouldn’t deign to earn my coins.”

“If you can earn money back, why not status too?” Li Banfeng pulled out another ten thousand in cash and handed it to Ma Wu. “Get back to your cultivation. If I remember right, after today, you’ll pass your first threshold.”

Ma Wu nodded: “It’s all thanks to you…”

Li Banfeng shook his head vigorously: “Not thanks to me—you owe it to the girls of Jiqing Troupe. You’ll need them going forward.”

Just as Ma Wu was about to return to cultivation, he remembered the clay he’d collected last night hadn’t been delivered yet.

If you have goods, you must deliver them—never keep anything at home. That was Ma Wu’s way of guarding against the Song family.

The clay was a unique anomaly found only in the New Lands; it was called an anomaly because its existence defied explanation.

You could call it mud—or you could call it a living thing.

Yesterday, Ma Wu went alone into the New Lands and found this lump of clay in the swamp, bringing it back in an iron can.

Li Banfeng stared at the foul-smelling mud and frowned: “What use is this?”

“You don’t understand, Brother Li—this thing has immense value.” Ma Wu explained the clay’s properties seriously.

It looked like ordinary clay, and in the New Lands, it remained just that—an inert lump.

But once removed from the New Lands, the clay would change.

It would grow, as if alive: place a small lump on a road, and within moments, the ground within several meters would turn into a sticky, gelatinous surface.

The strangest part? The transformed road surface looked exactly like normal pavement—no visible change at all.

This gel could stick to shoe soles, socks, and flesh—but not metal. It wouldn’t grow on metal, so the clay had to be stored in metal containers.

“Brother Li, this clay is one of the best materials for setting traps. Whoever steps on it gets their shoes stuck; take off the shoes, and the socks stick; take off the socks, and the soles stick. Even if you cut off your foot, you can’t escape—once it touches the ground, you’re trapped.”

“To break such a trap, you’d need either a Daoist sect with special methods, high cultivation, or a unique magic treasure. Otherwise, you’d have to wear iron shoes. But think—how many people walk around in iron shoes?”

“Don’t be fooled by this small can—this much clay can sell for a million.”

Li Banfeng stared at the can, stunned: “If this stuff hits the ground, does the whole patch turn into gel forever?”

“Not forever. If it doesn’t rain, the spread gel dries in a day and night—then it vanishes. That’s why it must be sealed in an iron can.”

A day and night?

That’s enough.

Li Banfeng took the iron can: “I’ll handle the delivery. Go back to your cultivation.”

“That’s my duty—how can I let you do it?” Ma Wu looked embarrassed, but his eyes were already drifting toward Jiqing Troupe.

Li Banfeng picked up the clay: “Don’t worry—I know the guy who runs the roller. Nothing’ll go wrong.”

“Brother Li, Xiao Chuan’s timid. Don’t scare him.”

Li Banfeng nodded: “Relax—I won’t steal his roller!”

Ma Wu thanked him repeatedly, then sprinted off toward Jiqing Troupe.

Li Banfeng realized the clay had real potential. He kept some for himself and took the rest to the village entrance.

Xiao Chuan, the roller operator, saw Li Banfeng and slipped over quietly. “Where’s Fifth Master?”

“He’s occupied today. Take this iron can to Yufangzhai. You know what to do after that.”

Xiao Chuan nodded. Li Banfeng handed him twenty silver dollars.

Xiao Chuan froze for a moment, whispering: “Master, you don’t need to give so much.”

“Just take it. Uh… let me try the roller.”

“Master, you can’t do that.”

“What can’t you do? Add more coal.”

“Master, you can’t do this!”

…

He never got to operate the roller—Xiao Chuan refused outright.

Li Banfeng returned to the wooden hut to study the clay’s properties. Five hours passed in a flash.

Ma Wu staggered through the door, covered in bruises. Before he reached the main hall, he collapsed onto the floor.

Li Banfeng rushed over and lifted him up: “Brother Ma, what happened?”

Ma Wu chuckled weakly, struggling to sit up: “Brother Li, thanks to your help—I passed the first threshold.”

Li Banfeng stared in surprise: “Aren’t you a Huan Xiu? Just do your job properly—why get beaten? Which girl hit you so hard?”

Ma Wu shook his head: “Not a girl—men. Four of them. Took all my money and beat me to this state.”

PS: Lu Xiaolan did not attempt suicide—there was another reason.

Today’s chapter: thirteen thousand characters. Dear readers, won’t you give me a vote? Won’t you praise me a little?

(End of Chapter)