Chapter 139: Blue Leaf Yang

Blue Leaf Yang?

Is this the formula that Honglian cracked?

Why only three characters?

Didn’t Ma Wu taste dozens of herbs?

To hide it from others?

But you wouldn’t need dozens of herbs to conceal just one, would you?

We’ll have to ask Ma Wu about this.

After waking from a deep sleep, Ma Wu’s mind felt clearer, and he planned to recalculate the formula—only for Li Banfeng to tell him the herbal powder was lost.

Ma Wu was filled with regret: “Brother Li, you actually lost such a precious herbal powder?”

“Forget about the herbal powder for now—do you know what Blue Leaf Yang is?”

“I know,” Ma Wu nodded. “The most famous specialty of this new land is Blue Leaf Yang. Originally, there was no village here—many hunters came to hunt Blue Leaf Yang, lived nearby for years, and eventually founded Blue Yang Village.”

So Blue Yang Village was named after Blue Leaf Yang.

Li Banfeng was delighted: “Brother Ma, where is Blue Leaf Yang? Let’s go cut down a tree and bring it back.”

“Cut down a tree?” Ma Wu laughed. “Brother Li, you’ve got quite the nerve. Even a whole tree? Do you know how hard it is to pick just a few leaves?”

“Blue Leaf Yang vanished thirty years ago due to overhunting. Some say they’ve seen it deep in the new land—but whether it’s true or not is uncertain, and that place isn’t for ordinary people.”

Li Banfeng thought for a while, then said: “Shall we try our luck?”

Ma Wu was even more confused: “Brother Li, why would we risk it? We have no use for Blue Leaf Yang.”

Li Banfeng asked: “What exactly is Blue Leaf Yang used for?”

Ma Wu couldn’t understand Li Banfeng’s intent—he didn’t even know its use, yet suddenly wanted Blue Leaf Yang?

“Blue Leaf Yang is used to forge weapons. Grind the branches into powder and mix it into molten iron—the resulting weapon becomes extremely tough. If you add the leaves, the weapon gains its own toxicity.”

Forge weapons?

Isn’t this an herb?

Li Banfeng had a deep misunderstanding about Blue Leaf Yang.

Ma Junyang said: “Brother Li, if you need a weapon, just buy one. Forget about Blue Leaf Yang—no craftsmen who know how to use it remain.”

Does Blue Leaf Yang have no medicinal property?

No!

Blue Leaf Yang must have medicinal properties—otherwise, Copper Lotus wouldn’t have given any hint.

After thinking it over, Li Banfeng still decided to seek Blue Leaf Yang. Ma Wu sighed: “Fine. I’ll pack my things and go with you to the new land to try our luck.”

Li Banfeng shook his head: “You stay behind. Watch the house and just give me clues.”

Ma Wu was worried about Li Banfeng, but after careful thought, he realized he might just be a burden.

He brought out a notebook filled with his observations since arriving in Blue Yang Village, pulled out one entry, and told Li Banfeng: “There are indeed legends about Blue Leaf Yang, but most are nonsense. This one’s credible.”

“An old hunter told me this half a month ago—he saw Blue Leaf Yang in the orange grove. He even asked me its market value. He’s well-known in the village—I doubt he’d lie.”

The old hunter’s name was Shen Xueyong. That same day, Li Banfeng went to his house, gave him thirty taels of silver, and asked about Blue Leaf Yang.

Shen Xueyong took the money, counted it five times, and tucked it into his robe. He told Li Banfeng: “Blue Leaf Yang grows in the orange grove. Leave from the village entrance—it’ll take about half a month to get there.”

“Half a month?” Li Banfeng froze. The distance was beyond what he’d expected.

“Ordinary people need half a month—the road’s long and treacherous. But if a Level One Traveling Cultivator hurries, avoiding misfortune and racing day and night, they can make it in five or six days. If they’re even higher, I wouldn’t know.”

A Level One Traveling Cultivator could make it in five or six days; Level Two probably only needed three.

This distance was acceptable to Li Banfeng.

But the key problem was—he couldn’t run at full speed. He had to bring the old hunter, who didn’t know where the orange grove was.

Yet the old hunter couldn’t be his guide: “Sir, I truly wish to accompany you back into the new land—you know value. A few days ago, I asked Fifth Young Master about Blue Leaf Yang’s price, and he told me: one leaf, a thousand taels.”

“Is that too little?”

The old hunter sighed deeply and shook his head: “Not too little—if Song Jia Sen were in charge, he wouldn’t even pay three hundred taels. But this is Blue Leaf Yang! Blue Leaf Yang!

Sir, you may not know what Blue Leaf Yang does—drop one leaf into molten iron, and the weapon becomes poisonous without any extra medicine. It lasts over a decade. Forty years ago, one leaf could sell for ten thousand taels!”

Li Banfeng frowned. Logically, Ma Wu shouldn’t have priced it so low.

The old hunter smiled bitterly: “It’s not really Fifth Young Master’s fault. Blue Leaf Yang is extinct. The craftsmen who knew how to use it are extinct too. There’s no market. He genuinely can’t offer a high price.

When I saw Blue Leaf Yang, I was overjoyed—I thought I’d strike it rich. But Fifth Young Master’s offer left me heartbroken.

Three days ago, I went back to the new land, hoping to find luck in the Bamboo Grove, maybe even meet the Hundred Bamboo Immortal and make a fortune. I did meet the Hundred Bamboo Immortal—but I messed up. Didn’t catch it. Got pierced through by a hundred bamboo spears.”

He pulled up his robe and pointed to a row of transparent holes in his chest: “I didn’t count exactly, but a hundred holes? That’s exaggerated. Twenty or thirty, I’m sure.”

Li Banfeng carefully counted: twenty-eight.

Twenty-six holes went straight through from front to back.

One hole was half-healed—the other half revealed writhing flesh inside.

One hole was nearly fully healed.

The old man was injured—he couldn’t go to the new land anymore.

But Li Banfeng couldn’t understand: how was this old hunter still alive?

“Forgive me for asking, but which Dao sect are you from?” Li Banfeng handed him another ten taels. Inquiring about sects was taboo—he couldn’t make the man speak freely.

The old hunter took the silver and smiled: “Forgive my shame—I’m a Body Cultivator, Level Two. I’m a worm.”

Worm—meaning earthworm.

Never underestimate such beings. Just this self-healing ability made Li Banfeng envious.

Though he couldn’t go to the new land, the old hunter didn’t keep the money without giving something back—he drew Li Banfeng a map.

As an illiterate hunter, his map wasn’t precise—but the meaning was clear.

“This mountain path is called Gourd Gully. It starts narrow, then widens. Mosquitoes are everywhere—especially at the waist of the gourd. They pile up so thick you can’t open your eyes.

You must hurry through—linger too long, and your blood might be drained dry.

Past Gourd Gully is Red Mud Ridge—a swamp. Don’t rush here—every step must be cautious. I once saw a man sink into Red Mud Ridge—he vanished in less than the time it takes to smoke a pipe.

I’m not afraid—I can climb out. But if you can’t, bring a sturdy staff and probe slowly forward.

Then there’s Iron Thread River—never enter the water…

And Little Yellow Spring—this path is deadly and extremely long. Watch the wind direction as you walk…

Past Little Yellow Spring is the orange grove. The grove is good—the oranges are edible, but follow the rules. Whether you find Blue Leaf Yang depends on your fate…”

The old hunter described every landmark along the way and especially emphasized food.

“Don’t carry much food—this journey is perilous. Better to starve than carry extra weight. Once you reach the orange grove, food will be available.”

Li Banfeng was curious: “If you follow your route, a round trip takes a month. If you don’t carry enough food, what do you eat?”

The old hunter laughed: “I eat dirt. Different dirt tastes different. The mud of Red Mud Ridge is the best—it tastes like it’s been braised in soy sauce. Saves salt entirely.”

Li Banfeng was impressed. He took his leave and returned to the warehouse to prepare supplies.

Ma Wu advised Li Banfeng: “Brother Li, Blue Leaf Yang has no market. Not worth risking your life for.”

Li Banfeng ignored him. Ma Wu sighed: “Fine, don’t let me come—but let Zuo Wugang go with you. At least someone can watch your back.”

“Let him come with me? What about you?” Li Banfeng had hired Zuo Wugang precisely because Ma Wu was too weak.

After packing his gear, Li Banfeng set out at dawn, running south until he reached Gourd Gully.

The mosquitoes here were real—ten miles from the gully, swarms slammed into his face.

The old hunter suffered on foot because he had limited supplies. Li Banfeng, backed by the entire Blue Yang Village’s resources and armed with the old hunter’s experience, had far more effective methods.

He took a tin jar from his pack, poured out its grease, and smeared it over his skin.

This grease was refined from the Nine-Legged Toad—these toads loved eating mosquitoes, devouring tens of thousands daily. Mosquitoes avoided the scent instantly. While the grease was still wet, Li Banfeng sprinted, covering thirty li of the gorge in under half an hour.

Beyond Gourd Gully came Red Mud Ridge. Li Banfeng didn’t rush—he slowed, using Tang Dao as a staff, and advanced with caution, relying on his ability to avoid misfortune.

“Strings muffled, notes sorrowful, as if telling of a lifetime of unfulfilled dreams. Master, I am a famed blade—why are you stabbing me into mud? Is this fitting?”

Li Banfeng probed the path ahead with Tang Dao and replied: “The mood is what matters.”

Tang Dao shook off the mud: “What mood? What mood can mud possibly hold? Master is humiliating me!”

The fifteen-li swamp took Li Banfeng over five hours to cross.

Beyond Red Mud Ridge lay Iron Thread River—a dark, thirty-meter-wide current flowing eastward.

Those who could fly could cross easily. Those who couldn’t needed magic treasures or spiritual objects to cross.

But never think of swimming—no cultivator, not even a Water cultivator, could swim across.

Because there was no water in the river.

What surged through it wasn’t water—it was countless Iron Thread Worms.

These worms, driven by some unknown force, moved relentlessly in one direction. If anyone stepped into the “river,” thousands of worms would burrow into flesh—through existing openings, or if none existed, they’d carve new ones. The entire body would become their nest, where they’d live, breed, and spread.

Li Banfeng couldn’t fly, and had no flying magic treasure.

His method to cross was simple: take out his key, open his Personal Dwelling, throw the key to the opposite bank, then step out from within his Personal Dwelling.

Beyond Iron Thread River lay a barren plain—nothing special. Just run.

After walking sixteen hours straight, Li Banfeng had covered nearly half the distance.

He moved so fast because he didn’t need to scout—he had the old hunter’s route—and because Level Two Traveling Cultivators were fast, and Li Banfeng was well-prepared, unburdened by luggage—all his gear was stored in his Personal Dwelling, ready at hand.

At this pace, he wouldn’t need three days. If he kept running, by mid-afternoon tomorrow, he’d reach the orange grove.

But he wouldn’t run anymore. The journey had drained him—his legs trembled.

Returning home to rest was the foundation of a Dwelling Cultivator—the basic discipline of a homebody.

Inside his Personal Dwelling, Li Banfeng stripped off his muddy clothes and sat beside the phonograph.

Clatter-clatter-clatter~

The phonograph asked anxiously: “Husband, you’re covered in dust—you must have gone to buy vegetables.”

“Wife, don’t be so impatient. Tomorrow, tomorrow I’ll surely bring back top-quality ingredients.” Li Banfeng ate two cans and a box of biscuits, then fell into a deep sleep.

The phonograph was deeply dissatisfied; as she cleaned Li Banfeng’s clothes with steam, she grumbled: “Tomorrow, tomorrow—every day it’s ‘tomorrow.’ I gave him three levels of cultivation, and yet he still lets us go hungry!”

PS: Li Banfeng wasn’t boasting—tomorrow, when he crosses the Yellow Spring, will indeed be a great day to buy vegetables.

(End of Chapter)