Chapter 127: Yǎn Cultivator Clan

Song Zhigang waited at home for news from his father, his heart burning with anxiety.

Around eight o’clock, a loud rumbling sound came from outside the gate.

What’s that noise?

Two guards burst in: “Young Master, it’s bad! Someone drove a roller to our front gate!”

“Who the hell is this? Who let them bring a roller into the village? I’m going to—”

Song Zhigang put on a furious expression, but in truth he felt no anger—only terror.

Soon after, another guard rushed in: “Young Master, there’s a madman outside who says he’ll give us ten minutes. If we don’t move out by then, he’ll drive the roller into the courtyard.”

“How can we move in ten minutes? Ignore that lunatic—shoot him!”

The guard nodded and went out.

Would he really dare shoot?

Even if he had the guts, he wouldn’t dare.

Too many strange things had happened these past two days: the head steward vanished, the master vanished, the second young master disappeared, and the eldest young master lost a field duel.

The whole village was buzzing: Blue Willow Village would no longer be the Song family’s.

The eldest young master must be frantic over this, but the guards had no reason to panic.

If the eldest young master himself won’t fight, why should the guards?

The guard reached the gate and saw Li Banfeng on the roller—too afraid to speak.

Ten minutes passed quickly. Li Banfeng glanced at his pocket watch and smiled: “Time’s up.”

One bolder guard stepped forward and pleaded: “Sir, calm down. Spare them while you can. If you want them to move, wait for our master to return. You’ve parked the roller at our gate—do you really think you can just drive it in? I say, you should first—”

Li Banfeng pushed the throttle valve. With a hiss, the roller lurched forward and slammed into the front door.

The guard froze in terror and bolted away.

A few road workers watched from afar. One, named Xiao Genzi, lowered his head and asked: “Is this even allowed? You’re letting outsiders use the roller like this?”

Xiao Chuanzi sneered: “What do you mean outsiders? That’s the Fifth Young Master!”

Xiao Genzi worried: “But he’s been cast out of his own home!”

Xiao Chuanzi laughed coldly: “Who asked you to care? The Fifth Master pays us. We took the money—why worry? If you’re scared, quit. From now on, we follow the Fifth Master.”

Li Banfeng rammed into the courtyard wall.

The Song family’s mansion was sturdy—crashing it directly with a roller was no easy task.

But Li Banfeng had prepared in advance, secretly placing wood-boring silkworms at key structural points.

Many bricks on the front wall had been hollowed out. The roller smashed through and rolled straight into the courtyard.

Song Zhigang stood in the front yard, voice trembling: “What are you doing? What do you want? Killing someone is one thing—but what else do you plan?”

Li Banfeng pulled out his pocket watch and smiled at Song Zhigang: “I’ll give you another ten minutes. If you’re not gone by then, I’ll drive the roller into your house.”

The guards had all fled.

The women of the household scattered in panic.

Song Zhigang grabbed one guard: “Quick, get Ni Ruiliang!”

The guard shoved him away: “Why bother? Ni Ruiliang already ran!”

Ni Ruiliang had fled because he realized one thing clearly: the Song family was finished.

He even suspected Song Jiaosen was dead.

He knew the Ma family was dangerous, but he sensed this wasn’t their doing.

Behind Ma Wu, there seemed to be another force—one Ni Ruiliang couldn’t comprehend. So reckless, so brutal—he’d never seen anything like it in his long life.

With fourth-layer cultivation, he could survive anywhere. He had no intention of staying here to die.

Song Zhigang gathered the remaining guards. Li Banfeng watched coldly.

Was Li Banfeng afraid?

Of course not.

Third-layer Wu Xiu, plus second-layer Traveler Xiu—what was there to fear?

Let these lackeys charge together. How many come, he’d take. All of them were just food for his wife.

Song Zhigang gritted his teeth, ready to fight—but no matter how he called, not a single guard answered.

As a child, Song Zhigang had heard his father speak of it: when a tree falls, the monkeys scatter.

He never imagined his own family’s tree would fall—and fall so fast.

Ten minutes passed again. Li Banfeng placed his hand on the throttle valve. Song Zhigang screamed: “Sir, even if you’re coming for my life, give me a moment! I’ll call people to move right away!”

That night, Song Zhigang and his entire family left Blue Willow Village.

They packed most of their valuables. The remaining furniture—too bulky to move—they abandoned.

The furniture was fine quality, but Li Banfeng didn’t want it.

Li Banfeng told Xiao Chuanzi to go from village head to tail and tell everyone: the Song family is gone. Come quickly and take what you can.

At first, the villagers didn’t believe it. Xiao Chuanzi got a few workers to start looting first.

When the villagers saw men running past with tables, chairs, beds, even washbasins—

They took the washbasins too?

We’ve got to go!

Hurry!

If you wait, there’ll be nothing left!

The villagers could no longer sit still. They rolled up their sleeves, pushed carts, and stormed toward the Song mansion.

Li Banfeng had Ma Wu stand at the Song gate, continuing his speech.

“Fellow villagers, listen: for years, we’ve suffered under the Song family. They ate meat and didn’t even let us taste the broth. They sucked our marrow and left not a single scrap.

From now on, Blue Willow Village has no Song family. When you hunt on new land, just let us know. The Song family’s prices—now they’re set by me and Seventh—”

Ma Wu meant to say “me and Seventh Master.”

He knew Li Banfeng didn’t want his identity revealed, but this was a golden chance to gain fame—and Ma Wu didn’t want to claim it all. After all, Li Banfeng had won this.

But before Ma Wu finished, Li Banfeng shot him a sharp glance.

Ma Wu quickly corrected himself: “The Song family’s prices? Now they’re set by me, Ma Junyang—only higher, never lower!”

Blue Willow Village buzzed all night. One old woman, eighty-five years old, pushed her cart to the Song mansion three times!

The entire Song mansion was stripped clean—even the door panels were torn off.

Li Banfeng drove the roller, had Xiao Chuanzi gather a group of workers, and began tearing down the house.

Ma Wu felt a pang of regret. After so many years of hardship, such a fine estate was hard to let go.

“It must be torn down!” Li Banfeng insisted. “From now on, Blue Willow Village has nothing to do with the Song family. They’ll never return. The villagers will never remember them.”

At dawn, the Song family vanished completely from Blue Willow Village.

Li Banfeng told Xiao Chuanzi: “Tell all the workers: if you want to follow Ma Wu, sign up with you. Ma Wu will pay you monthly. If you don’t want to follow Ma Wu, keep working on the road—no pressure.”

Xiao Chuanzi gathered all the workers and relayed Li Banfeng’s words.

There were over seventy road workers. About thirty chose to follow Ma Junyang; the rest said they’d think about it.

Thinking was fine—Li Banfeng had said no one would be forced.

But the truth must be clear: if they later came to join Ma Wu, their status would drop far below what it was now.

Ma Wu spoke with Li Banfeng: “Brother, what we’re doing is digging under my father’s feet. I’m afraid—”

Whenever family matters came up, Ma Wu couldn’t see clearly.

Li Banfeng waved his hand: “Don’t fear. If he’s truly your father, he won’t hold this against you. If he’s not your real father, we’ll talk again.”

…

Song Zhigang led his family all the way to Tai Ming Town.

In this town, the Song family owned a modest estate—two courtyards front and back—enough to house them all.

As soon as they settled, Song Zhigang took two servants and ten thousand silver dollars to Liu’s Paper Goods Shop.

Why go to a paper goods shop? To buy burning paper for his father?

No.

He went to find Liu Liangyi, the patriarch of the Liu family and the local strongman.

Song Jiaosen had ruled Blue Willow Village for over twenty years—three-tenths of that power came from the Liu family, three-tenths from the Si family above them, and four-tenths from the Lu family above the Si family.

Liu Liangyi had fourth-layer cultivation—modest in Green Water Bay.

But the Liu family’s Dao was unique: they were a Yǎn Cultivator clan. Yǎn Cultivators excelled at controlling ghost servants, giving them an edge against most Dao sects.

Especially Liu Liangyi—he had a special battle technique: he could attach ghost servants to paper figures. A fourth-layer Yǎn Cultivator could command sixty ghost servants, each controlling five paper figures—equaling a small army of three hundred.

Liu Liangyi had started as a bandit. With his paper figures, he seized a mountain and ruled for over twenty years, with few rivals.

Though he’d since cleaned up his reputation and abandoned banditry, in Tai Ming Town, even the mountain bandits still feared the Liu family.

At the paper goods shop, Song Zhigang didn’t meet Liu Liangyi—he met Liu Changyu, and burst into tears: “Young Master, please tell Grandfather: our family is in ruin.”

Liu Changyu was the shop’s young master, Liu Liangyi’s youngest son, twenty-one years old—equal in rank to Song Zhigang. Seeing Song Zhigang about to kneel, he rushed forward to stop him: “Brother Zhigang, what happened? What’s wrong?”

Song Zhigang told him a selective version of events.

He mentioned Ma Wu betraying them by selling goods behind their backs—he didn’t mention their plan to beat Ma Wu.

He spoke of the field duel—he mentioned Ma Wu’s trap—but he omitted that his father had set the trap himself.

Liu Changyu frowned: “Ma Junyang is breaking all rules. I don’t need to tell my father—I’ll handle this. No matter who he is, he won’t turn Blue Willow Village upside down!”

The young master gathered two shop assistants and headed for Blue Willow Village. Song Zhigang’s confidence surged—he ordered his servants to join them for show. But before they left town, the shop’s bookkeeper, Hu Jun, caught up with them:

“Young Master, your father wants you to return home.” Liu Changyu, helpless, followed the bookkeeper back; Song Zhigang now had no hope left and could only return to the estate to wait for news.

Liu Changyu returned to the paper-horse shop and found his father, Liu Liangyi, seated in the back hall. He was about to explain the whole matter, but Liu Liangyi waved his tobacco pipe, telling him not to bother:

“Changyu, I put you here to manage the shop so you’d gain experience and meet more people—not so you could go out showing off and flexing your strength.”

Liu Changyu didn’t understand: “Father, the Song family is our people—this is their matter. Shouldn’t we step in?”

Liu Liangyi sighed; his son’s attitude disappointed him: “You only see the Songs’ affairs—what about the Ma family’s?”

Why didn’t Song Sen come to us himself? Why has he gone silent? Ma Wu is a fallen young master scraping by in Lanyang Village—why force himself into a life-or-death feud with the Songs? Have you ever thought about these things?”

Liu Changyu had never thought about them.

Liu Liangyi tapped out his tobacco pipe: “You didn’t think—I’ll think for you. Song Sen is a third-layer Wu Xiu. If he’s vanished now, he’s almost certainly dead.”

If even he’s gone, do you really think you, with a few men, can walk out of Lanyang Village alive?”

Ma Wu is barely scraping by in Lanyang Village—if he weren’t backed into a corner, he wouldn’t have fought Song Sen to the death.”

They’ve already reached a point of mutual annihilation—why go over there and talk to Ma Wu about rules?”

If you can’t beat Ma Wu, you’ll die. Even if you can beat him, can you kill him? Will the Ma family let you live after that?”

Liu Changyu fell silent. He had been careless.

“Father, so we just do nothing about this?”

“The Songs’ affairs are their own doing—we don’t need to interfere.

But Lanyang Village is our territory—this matter we must handle. In three days, it’s time to collect payments. Have Old Hu collect the dues as usual—see if Ma Wu pays.”

If he pays, the rules remain intact. Even if we replace the local boss in Lanyang Village, that’s acceptable.”

If he refuses, the rules are broken. Then we’ll go to him with clear justification.”

Liu Changyu understood the logic and quickly apologized to his father, then humbly stayed to manage the shop.

The next day, Song Zhigang came again to beg Liu Changyu for help. Liu Changyu sighed: “Zhigang, go back and wait. Over the years, your family has made plenty in Lanyang Village. Honestly, living quietly is better.”

PS: Living quietly is a good idea—but going to Li Banfeng to collect debts? That was their mistake.

(End of Chapter)