Chapter 118: A Tyrant of an Era

Li Banfeng ran for over half an hour, over thirty li from Green Bay.

The place was utterly open, no village, no houses, not even a passerby—only wild grass and a lonely lake.

Li Banfeng thought the spot suitable and prepared to release the man he’d rescued on the road; just as he reached for the key, a middle-aged man arrived like a gust of wind.

“Big Beard, where are you from?” The man wore a gray striped short jacket and bit a black-stemmed cigarette.

Big Beard…

Though Li Banfeng had glued on a full beard, being called that still felt odd.

“What do you want with me?” Li Banfeng smiled at the man.

The man, cigarette Jia ed between fingers, said: “Our master wishes to meet you.”

“Do I know your master?”

“The Lu family of Pulu Province—surely you’ve heard of them?” The man was Huang Guangshi, a traveling cultivator under Monkey Qiu.

Monkey Qiu’s order was to capture the one carrying the phonograph; Li Banfeng had no phonograph, so why was he targeted?

Because this man was a schemer—while others hunted for the phonograph, he kept his eyes open, tracked down Xiao Qian from Ghost Hand Gate, Xing Qiushan, and asked for Li Banfeng’s description, learning his most distinctive trait: a full beard.

While others searched for phonographs, he searched for beards—avoiding unnecessary fights and increasing his chances of success.

Li Banfeng said: “I’ve heard of the Lu family, but your master surely doesn’t know me.”

“You’ll find out soon—our master is waiting.” Huang Guangshi didn’t waste words; he lunged to grab him, so fast not even a blur could be seen.

Traveling cultivator.

From his sudden appearance and the efficiency of his strike, it was clear he was a traveling cultivator—and his realm surpassed Li Banfeng’s.

Li Banfeng had a second-layer dwelling cultivator’s physique; having just left his dwelling, he shrank back a step, evading the grab.

Huang Guangshi smiled: “You have cultivation base—looks like I found the right man.”

Before the words faded, Huang Guangshi stepped forward—no warning, no visible movement—as if he’d instantly teleported.

What level of cultivation was this?

In truth, Huang Guangshi’s cultivation was low—only second layer.

As he stepped closer, a five-inch-long cone sprouted from his fingertip, stabbing toward Li Banfeng’s third eye.

Li Banfeng retreated again; Huang Guangshi was patient, pressing forward with the cone, driving Li Banfeng all the way to the lake’s edge.

This was Huang Guangshi’s tactic—the standard method of most traveling cultivators.

The wild lake was choked with tall grass; some dogtail grass stood taller than a man, and ordinary people walking through it risked tripping on roots and stems.

In such terrain, traveling cultivators held a great advantage.

Though Li Banfeng was also a traveling cultivator, his level was inferior; if he fought head-on, defeat was inevitable.

Seeing Li Banfeng trapped, Huang Guangshi decided to close the net.

He teleported again, circling around to stand behind Li Banfeng, raising the cone to pierce his spine.

Huang Guangshi was experienced—this strike would paralyze Li Banfeng but leave him able to speak, preventing escape while allowing interrogation.

Li Banfeng didn’t dodge or block—he vanished.

Huang Guangshi froze—did this man possess a magic treasure or an invisibility technique?

As he scanned for Li Banfeng, sudden danger surged from his right.

By the time he turned, it was too late—Li Banfeng’s iron ruler had already pierced Huang Guangshi’s cheek.

Li Banfeng used his Dwelling to enter and exit, completely disrupting Huang Guangshi’s combat habits.

Huang Guangshi tried to teleport again, to break free of the ruler—but failed; Li Banfeng casually pulled him into the Dwelling.

Inside the room, Huang Guangshi clutched his wound, scanning the surroundings.

Everything was pitch black—he couldn’t tell where he was.

But Li Banfeng didn’t need light; this was his own dwelling.

Even without eyes, even if blindfolded, he knew every layout, every object—never stepped on anything, never mistook the chamber pot at night, never fumbled for the wrong wife in bed—this was the basic competence of a dweller.

Before Huang Guangshi understood the situation, Li Banfeng slashed his right hamstring with a sickle.

Huang Guangshi hobbled, still trying to resist; Li Banfeng swung back another cut, opening a half-foot-long gash in his belly.

A second-layer traveling cultivator inside a second-layer dwelling cultivator’s home had no chance to resist.

Thud—he knelt on the ground, shouting: “Our master only wants to ask you a few questions! I was just following orders! Sir, spare my life!”

Li Banfeng asked: “Did your master specifically name me?”

Huang Guangshi dared not lie or evade—he spoke plainly: “Our master wants the one with the phonograph—and the one with a beard.”

Li Banfeng laughed: “In Green Water City, there are thousands with beards—do you plan to arrest them all?”

Chichi ~

The phonograph laughed too.

Flames burst forth; the phonograph sang a slow rhythm: “So what if I have a phonograph? Which law have I broken? Why do you dare arrest me?”

Hearing the phonograph’s voice, Huang Guangshi trembled violently.

He’d heard the phonograph sing—but never heard it speak.

But worse was yet to come.

On the ground, he saw a coat—an English-made yellow wool overcoat.

This coat was custom-made for Lu Dongliang by a famed English craftsman—how did it end up in this tiny room?

Phonograph. Beard. Master’s coat.

Could it be…

Huang Guangshi looked up at Li Banfeng: “You’re…”

He dared not finish.

This man might truly be Li Banfeng.

Had Li Banfeng killed the master?

Impossible.

The master’s cultivation was too high—no one in Pulu Province could kill him.

Li Banfeng had no patience for words; he hooked Huang Guangshi’s chin with the sickle and said to the phonograph: “Wife, it’s time to dine.”

Chichi ~

“Thank you, dear husband, your kindness is overwhelming—but your humble wife isn’t hungry.”

Li Banfeng froze: “Wife, say that again—I didn’t hear clearly.”

“Dear husband, your humble wife truly isn’t hungry.”

Li Banfeng suspected his wife had gone mad.

Or perhaps his belly had been stabbed, damaging his hearing.

His wife said she wasn’t hungry?

This was actually happening!

His previous injuries must not have healed.

If the injury wasn’t healed, he must eat more!

“Wife, I bought the dishes—just eat a couple bites, consider it a snack.”

“Ah~ Dear husband, so tender to your humble wife—how could she refuse? First, let me ask this man: what sect do you belong to?”

A puff of steam hit Huang Guangshi’s face.

Huang Guangshi answered honestly: “I’m a traveling cultivator…”

“Traveling cultivator? Hahaha~”

Gongs and drums sounded; the wife’s laughter grew more monstrous.

“The ninth-layer traveling cultivator my husband brought back was one too—you’re one as well—why so many traveling cultivators?” Her singing grew more vicious.

Li Banfeng froze.

Why did his wife hate traveling cultivators so much?

What did she mean by “the ninth-layer traveling cultivator I brought back”?

Where did that ninth-layer traveling cultivator even come from?

Before Huang Guangshi could answer, the wife sliced off one layer of his soul.

“All traveling cultivators in this world deserve ten thousand cuts!” The wife roared, beginning to suck his soul.

Li Banfeng was baffled: “Why should traveling cultivators be cut to pieces?”

The phonograph ate and laughed: “Because they deserve to die, dear husband—you’re a dwelling cultivator, don’t you hate traveling cultivators?”

Li Banfeng chuckled dryly: “Hate? I hate them deeply—I hate them intensely…”

But wait—just because their Dao paths clashed, did that make his wife hate traveling cultivators?

That didn’t make sense.

There must be another reason.

“He’s also…” In agony, Huang Guangshi tried to shout that Li Banfeng was a traveling cultivator too.

Li Banfeng broke into a cold sweat—then saw a dewdrop spewed from the bronze lotus, entering Huang Guangshi’s mouth, silencing him before he could finish.

The bronze lotus and the phonograph were old acquaintances—she knew it was best not to mention traveling cultivators in front of the phonograph.

The phonograph roared: “No manners! I haven’t finished eating, and you’re already using chopsticks!”

The bronze lotus spat at the phonograph; as they brawled, the matter of traveling cultivators was temporarily forgotten.

Li Banfeng sat on the bed, staring at the yellow wool overcoat on the floor, feeling as if he’d seen it before.

Today was full of strange events; the phonograph didn’t want to eat, and she even mentioned something about a Ninth-Level Traveling Cultivator.

Now she barely took one bite, and she wasn’t even focused—she was busy fighting with the lotus.

“Wife, what exactly did you eat to get so full?”

“Hey, husband, you just came back from buying groceries—have you already forgotten?”

Buying groceries?

Li Banfeng didn’t remember buying groceries—he only remembered bringing back three phonographs, which the copper lotus had refined into a gear-shaped elixir that he gave his wife to eat. To be fair, the refinement worked quite well…

Wait.

“Where’s the man I saved?” Li Banfeng finally remembered where the camel-colored overcoat had come from.

“I ate him,” his wife admitted calmly. “We sisters ate him together.”

“How could you just eat him? Do you know who he was? He was someone who brought good fortune!”

Huh-huh~

The phonograph beat a cheerful drum and sang loudly: “Good fortune is here—we all benefited from it.”

A wisp of steam drifted over, and two stacks of old newspapers entered the phonograph’s casing.

Click—inside the casing, a flat mirror rotated, projecting the firelight into the phonograph’s horn.

A beam of light shot from the horn and struck the wall, causing the curtain hanging there to unfurl.

His wife had inherited the projector’s function.

The curtain displayed a photograph, taken from a news article about the Lu family’s successful land reclamation; it showed many key members of the Lu family, and his wife had specifically drawn a circle around Lu Dongliang’s face.

The second photo: the Lu family purchasing two herbal shops in Medicine King Gully; his wife drew another circle around Lu Dongliang’s face.

The third photo: the Lu family acquiring the Bai Le Men from the Chu family.

The fourth photo: the Lu family purchasing the He family bank.

The fifth photo: the Lu family buying the Ma family’s land.

The sixth photo: Lu Dongliang, face caked in mud, lying inside the Portable Dwelling.

Li Banfeng stared in shock at the screen: “Just now… the man I brought back… was Lu Dongliang?”

“I didn’t know who he was—I only knew he looked exactly like the man in the newspaper. He was a Ninth-Level Traveling Cultivator, an extremely rare cultivation base in Pulu Province.

He died well—Traveling Cultivators deserve to be killed!

I’m full now, the Blood-Soaked Pendulum is full too, and that bitch Red Lotus is still eating—this meal will probably last several more days.”

Full… everyone’s full…

Li Banfeng was momentarily stunned.

Suddenly, a sobbing sound came from his ear.

Li Banfeng listened closely—he heard only one phrase: “Master, my fate is bitter, so bitter…”

The Threaded Earrings had always followed Li Banfeng—but she missed this meal.

With limited ability to express herself, she could only keep crying—until Li Banfeng suddenly heard a long, anguished sigh:

“Wasted talents soaring to the clouds, my whole life’s ambitions never opened—such a rare opportunity, and I missed it.”

Tang Dao wept, bitterly.

After her battle with the Cloak Moth Lady, Tang Dao had slashed three times, then slipped into Li Banfeng’s pocket.

Back at the Portable Dwelling, she hid in the second room and fell into a deep sleep.

That sleep caused her to miss this crucial meal.

Still not fully recovered, Tang Dao leapt from Li Banfeng’s pocket, transforming into a dagger, and began slashing at the Blood-Soaked Pendulum: “You eat meat—at least let me have a sip of the broth! You’ve had your fill of blood, so give me a taste too!”

“No! Not giving you any!” The Blood-Soaked Pendulum fought back fiercely; the two clashed inside the main room.

The Blood-Soaked Pendulum, having drunk Ninth-Level blood, fought Tang Dao—and held her own.

Li Banfeng paid no attention to their battle; a single phrase echoed repeatedly in his mind:

Lu Dongliang is dead. Lu Dongliang is already dead.

He didn’t know Lu Dongliang well—he’d met him for the first time today.

He didn’t know why Lu Dongliang had been upside-down in the mud—but it no longer mattered.

He was dead.

The head of the Lu family was dead.

The man who held immense power and had been hunting Li Banfeng everywhere—was dead!

Li Banfeng stepped out of the Portable Dwelling and, under cover of night, sprinted toward Blue Willow Village.

When he reached the village and entered the wooden house, Ma Wu finally relaxed: “Brother Li, you’re finally back—did you get the phonograph?”

Li Banfeng nodded: “I bought it, but didn’t like it, so I threw it by the roadside.”

“Threw it away? You risked so much going into the city, bought the phonograph, and then just tossed it?” Ma Wu was utterly impressed. “Brother Li, you really are…”

At dawn the next day, Ma Wu carried two hunting trophies from the new lands, preparing to sell them at the village entrance. Li Banfeng, in high spirits, joined him.

The steam roller had just started up; workers were laying stones and spreading asphalt to repair the road.

After delivering his goods, Ma Wu was about to leave when Li Banfeng climbed onto the steam roller and asked Xiao Chuan: “Can I drive it?”

In childhood memories, Li Banfeng had once thought excavators were the most powerful of all construction vehicles.

Until he first saw a steam roller—he changed his mind. He believed the steam roller was the ultimate machine.

Xiao Chuan looked at Li Banfeng, troubled: “Master, I told you—it’s really not allowed!”

Li Banfeng pulled out a stack of banknotes: “I’ll pay!”

“It’s not about money…” Xiao Chuan grew even more uneasy.

Ma Wu gave Xiao Chuan a glance; Xiao Chuan frowned: “What if the foreman sees?”

“What time is it? The foreman won’t be here this early—don’t worry!”

Xiao Chuan took Li Banfeng’s money and let him sit in the driver’s seat.

There was no accelerator, no brake—only a steering wheel, a large lever, and several air valves.

Under Xiao Chuan’s guidance, Li Banfeng pulled the lever, engaged forward gear, and the steam roller began to move slowly.

All the workers stopped what they were doing and stepped aside, watching Li Banfeng, face alight with excitement, steering the machine.

Xiao Chuan whispered instructions: “Good, steady—Master, you can increase speed. Yes, open the air valve a bit more.”

Li Banfeng opened the air valve wider.

He hadn’t expected it—the steam-powered roller wasn’t slow. With the valve fully open, it might reach thirty miles per hour!

Huh-huh! Huh-huh!

Li Banfeng felt as if he were driving both a train and a roller—the joy surged from his toes all the way to the crown of his head.

Xiao Chuan panicked: “Wait—you can’t open the valve that wide!

You—you—you’re going too fast! Don’t drive like this!

Master, you just said ‘brake’? What’s a brake? There’s no brake here! Quickly release steam—open the exhaust valve!

Open the air valve, disengage the lever! No, you’re going to fall into the ditch!”

Crash!

The steam roller tumbled into the ditch.

Li Banfeng stepped down from the driver’s seat and looked at Ma Wu: “Hire some men—get the roller pulled out right away.”

Xiao Chuan sat on the roller and wept: “What do we do now? The foreman’s coming any minute!”

The foreman arrived; Ma Wu greeted him and slipped him some money—when suddenly someone shouted: “Wildfield Duel’s on! Clear Sky Arena! Come watch!”

Li Banfeng perked up: “Let’s go, Brother Ma—let’s watch!”

Ma Wu frowned: “You shouldn’t go.”

“I can go now—I feel ready!” Li Banfeng beamed.

PS: Wildfield Duels are divided into Clear Sky Arena (decides victory) and Murky Heaven Arena (decides life or death)—but there’s more to it than that!

(End of Chapter)