Chapter 15

Seeing Li Banfeng's body stiffen, the rickshaw puller took two steps back.

Li Banfeng felt that even breathing had become abnormally difficult; before he could figure out what was wrong with his body, two people walked over from an alley not far away.

These two people were wearing shirts, vests, and newsboy caps, with the brims pulled extremely low.

Seeing that they were coming for Li Banfeng, the driver was startled and picked up his rickshaw, intending to leave.

What are these two people doing?

Li Banfeng didn't recognize them.

Are they coming for me?

They really were coming for him.

This was the manpower arranged by Xiao Zhenggong; they had been following Li Banfeng ever since he walked out of the station.

Their mission was to kill Li Banfeng and take the copper lotus from him.

Li Banfeng wanted to reach for the spicy gluten strips in his pocket, but he couldn't move his hands.

One of the men in newsboy caps pulled a dagger from his sleeve, while the other man scanned the surroundings fiercely, signaling others not to meddle.

He couldn't resist, couldn't defend himself, couldn't run away; Li Banfeng couldn't even move an inch.

Growing up, Li Banfeng had never felt so desperate.

Watching the two men get closer and closer, he suddenly heard someone speaking beside him:

"You take the child to eat something first, then wait for me at the clinic."

That 1.9-meter-tall thin man settled his wife into another rickshaw, turned around, and came to Li Banfeng's side, left hand in his pocket, right hand supporting Li Banfeng.

Seeing the thin man, the two men in newsboy caps didn't immediately approach Li Banfeng; they didn't know the thin man's strength, nor did they know the other party's background.

One of the "newsboy caps" stepped forward and spoke: "Brother, which path are you on? State your background!"

Li Banfeng was stunned; what foreign language is this?

This isn't a foreign language; it's underworld jargon.

The "newsboy cap" meant: Friend, which path are you on? State your background.

Hou Zi Qiu understood, but ignored them, directly disregarding the two.

The other "newsboy cap" saw that communication was fruitless and began to threaten: "Friend, we are from the Jiang Xiang Gang.

You've heard of our banner, and you know the rules. We've decided to take this head; our blades don't have eyes, so you'd better watch your step."

Friend, we've decided to kill this man; our blades don't have eyes, so don't meddle in other people's business.

The thin man frowned slightly and glanced at the two "newsboy caps."

The two "newsboy caps" suddenly felt a palpitation in their hearts; their heart rates slowed down, and the amplitude increased.

*Thump! Thump! * Their hearts seemed ready to shatter at any moment.

One "newsboy cap" lowered his voice: "This is a Joy Cultivator! His level is not low!"

"Retreat!" The other "newsboy cap" also realized the severity of the problem and prepared to withdraw.

The thin man's strength was not something the two of them could touch; without a moment's hesitation, the two turned and left, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

The thin man didn't chase them either; supporting Li Banfeng, he asked the driver directly: "Is your rickshaw fast?"

"Not too fast." The driver avoided Li Banfeng, not wanting to pull him.

Someone hit by the heavenly light could have a major incident at any time, and he was also involved with underworld people; who would want to get involved with him?

"Do you have fire wheels under your feet?" the thin man asked again.

The driver shook his head: "If I had fire wheels, would I still be earning this little bit of money?"

"Is there anyone with fire wheels in front of the station?" The man took out a ten-yuan banknote and handed it to the driver.

The driver took the banknote and smiled: "Yes, sir, I'll take you there."

Not having to work and earning ten yuan for nothing—he was willing to take this money.

The driver led the way in front, while the thin man kept one hand in his pocket and carried Li Banfeng with the other, following the driver through an alley.

At the alley entrance, there was a short, stocky driver squatting on the ground, smoking.

The smoke was very choking; it was the dry tobacco he had rolled himself.

"Sir, this is the one with fire wheels." The previous driver brought the person and left in a hurry.

The thin man stepped forward and asked the stocky driver: "What's the quality of your fire wheels?"

The driver looked up: "I'm pulling a rickshaw, what quality could it be? Just first layer of land!"

The thin man nodded: "Do you know where the Peddler is?"

The driver smacked his lips: "I saw him this morning, but the road is a bit far, and I don't know if he's still there now."

"The road being far is not a problem; you name a price."

The driver extended five fingers: "Five hundred, Huan currency, no bargaining."

The thin man placed Li Banfeng on the rickshaw, twisted his fingers a few times in his bosom, pulled out five hundred-yuan Huan currency banknotes, and gave them to the driver.

Seeing the thin man take out money with one hand and looking at his left hand, which was always in his pocket, the driver felt a bit strange but didn't ask any more questions.

After counting the banknotes, not one was missing; the driver snuffed out the cigarette butt, placed his left wrist upward to support the left shaft, and placed his right wrist downward to press on the right shaft.

Li Banfeng felt that his posture for holding the shafts was a bit strange; one hand up, one hand down—why did it look so awkward?

Actually, he didn't understand; this was the Yin-Yang grip, the most standard position for pulling a rickshaw.

The rickshaw pullers Li Banfeng saw on TV all lifted the shafts with both hands; if the force wasn't stable, the passengers would sway back and forth, and might even fall off the rickshaw.

If a driver pulled a rickshaw like that, at best he wouldn't get the fare, and at worst he'd get a sound beating.

With the Yin-Yang grip, one up and one down, the driver lifted the rickshaw steadily and shouted: "Let's go!"

Before the words had faded, the driver was already pulling the rickshaw out of the alley.

Li Banfeng's consciousness was still there; the wind whistled by his ears, and the houses and trees by the roadside retreated rapidly.

Perhaps because the alley was very narrow and the buildings by the roadside were very close, Li Banfeng experienced a visual deviation.

What kind of speed is this?

This driver actually pulled the rickshaw with the feeling of a car.

Hou Zi Qiu also felt that this driver was a bit special: "Your skills don't look like first-layer cultivation."

The driver laughed: "You pay, I pull; it's not like we're living together, why care so much!

Let's make things clear first: the person beside you looks like a white lamb hit by the heavenly light.

I'm only responsible for taking you to the place; whether this person lives or dies is none of my business!"

"Don't worry, he won't die," the thin man said, "This little brother has good fate; he wouldn't have met the Peddler, but the train was delayed for three days on the road, just in time for him to catch up."

The driver was stunned: "Really? Such good fate? Could it be that he met a lucky star?"

Li Banfeng's neck couldn't move, and he couldn't see the condition of the driver's legs and feet.

He could only look at the scenery along the way from a fixed angle.

The buildings in this town were very strange, with bricks and stones intertwined, neat and clean, without any sense of desolation or decay, yet they carried a sense of vicissitudes that deeply touched Li Banfeng.

It wasn't an ancient sense of vicissitudes, but a unique one, with spacious courtyards between brick and stone walls, atmospheric beams and flying eaves, full of ancient charm.

But the carvings and portholes that appeared on the walls from time to time had a bit of a Western flavor.

Especially the small two- or three-story buildings between the streets and alleys, the balconies and corridors protruding outward, the unique arches on the windows and doors, and the roses and creepers on the walls made Li Banfeng feel as if he had arrived in a special era, an era caught in the cracks of history.

What era it was, Li Banfeng had no time to think; the difficulty of his heartbeat and the stagnation of his breathing made him feel the threat to his life.

Listening to the idle chat between the driver and the thin man, they ran from the town all the way to the suburbs, arriving at a wilderness, where the driver stopped and wiped his sweat.

"He really has great fate; the Peddler hasn't left!" The driver panted for a long time, looking back at the thin man and Li Banfeng.

The thin man carried Li Banfeng off the rickshaw and saw a pushcart parked under a willow tree in front, with a two-story large wooden cabinet on the pushcart, and a red lantern hanging on the wooden cabinet.

Squatting beside the pushcart was a person, a man in his thirties, dozing off under the tree.

The driver shouted at the man: "Hey! Are you still doing business?"

The man raised his eyes, stood up, stretched, took out a rattle-drum, and started playing:

*Ding-ling-guang-dang, ding-ling-guang-dang! *

"Foreign soap, vanishing cream,

Silk scarves and handkerchiefs, needle and thread kits,

Leather buckets, iron water scoops,

Matches and candles, iron shovels!

Pickle jars, soy sauce pots,

Rice spoons and water ladles, kitchen knives!

A cart full of good goods, an old brand,

Everything sold at a fair price, take your pick!"

Peddler?

Is this the Peddler?

The Peddler yawned at the thin man and said: "Hou Zi Qiu, what are you buying?"

This thin man is called Hou Zi Qiu; the Peddler actually knows him.

Hou Zi Qiu said: "A white lamb hit by the heavenly light."

The Peddler took out a key and opened the first layer of the wooden cabinet: "A white lamb hit by the heavenly light—if you don't want to die, you must enter the path.

How do you want to settle the bill? Huan currency or silver dollars?"

Hou Zi Qiu said: "Huan currency."

The Peddler opened the drawer on the cabinet: "I have five types of medicinal powder left here: Farming Cultivation 30,000, Joy Cultivation 50,000, Food Cultivation 60,000, Travel Cultivation 80,000, Residential Cultivation 160,000. I see he can't speak either; should he choose himself, or will you pick for him?"

PS: Thanks to Snow Mountain Yuanfeng.

Dear readers, have you ever used vanishing cream?

Which path do you like?

(End of chapter)