Chapter 212: Tiemenbao

Li Banfeng stayed inside the portable dwelling for exactly sixteen hours before stepping out.

Staying this long was a carefully considered decision.

First, he wasn't sure if Ling Miaoying had planted a hook—he had to let his wife clean it thoroughly.

Fortunately, his wife hadn't found any hook on him.

Second, he wasn't sure if Ling Miaoying would chase the train, or when the train would stop.

If Ling Miaoying boarded the train, or if the train stopped directly at Green Water City, and Li Banfeng appeared immediately, his situation would be no different from never having escaped—he'd still be under Ling Miaoying's control.

In cultivation base, Li Banfeng was far inferior to Ling Miaoying; in experience, he was also behind; even in magic treasures, he held no advantage. Under Ling Miaoying's control, Li Banfeng was certain to die.

The only thing he could rely on was the portable dwelling—staying inside it a little longer was the wisest choice.

But what if Ling Miaoying boarded the train and picked up the key?

Was Li Banfeng not afraid?

He was afraid, but fear was useless.

If Ling Miaoying truly found the key and tried to pick it up, Li Banfeng couldn't stop him.

So Li Banfeng prepared for the worst-case scenario.

If Ling Miaoying took the key away, he'd likely bring it back to study it—after studying for over a dozen hours, he'd surely grow tired and store the key somewhere.

It was now two a. .; Ling Miaoying was most likely asleep—this was the best escape window Li Banfeng could think of.

When he stepped out of the portable dwelling, Li Banfeng found himself still on the train.

That meant Ling Miaoying hadn't picked up the key.

For Li Banfeng, this was a fairly ideal situation.

All he needed to do now was wait quietly in the carriage until the train reached its stop, then disembark and find a way back to Green Water City.

The last time he rode the train, Li Banfeng had never pulled back the curtain to look outside.

This was a rare opportunity—he stood at the edge of the carriage, carefully admiring the scenery beyond.

There wasn't much to admire: the night was deep, the sky pitch-black; all he could see were the silhouettes of trees rapidly retreating on either side of the tracks.

After a moment, the conductor beside him warned: "The train's entering a tunnel—get down."

Li Banfeng quickly crouched down with the conductor beside the coal pile.

When had this conductor arrived?

Li Banfeng hadn't sensed him at all.

After the train passed through the tunnel, the conductor stood before Li Banfeng and asked: "Why are you on this train?"

Li Banfeng paused, then gave a perfectly reasonable explanation: "I have a ticket!"

He handed his ticket to the conductor.

The conductor examined it and returned it: "This isn't the ticket for this train."

"Is that so?" Li Banfeng studied the ticket closely, then the train itself, and asked in shock, "What's the number of this train? Did I board the wrong one?"

Li Banfeng thought his acting was convincing, but it didn't move the conductor.

The conductor said flatly: "This is Train 1151. You were supposed to take Train 1173,

and this is a freight train—you were supposed to board a passenger train."

Hearing this, Li Banfeng quickly tucked away his ticket and apologized repeatedly: "It's my first time on a train—I accidentally boarded the wrong one. I'll get off at the next stop."

The conductor's thinking differed from Li Banfeng's: "If I let you get off at the next stop, that's serious dereliction of duty."

Li Banfeng thought for a moment: "Then wait for a temporary stop—I'll get off immediately."

"This train has no scheduled temporary stops."

"Then please arrange one."

The conductor still shook his head: "Arranging an unscheduled stop is also dereliction of duty."

Li Banfeng frowned slightly: "Then what do you plan to do?"

"I suggest you get off right now."

"You won't stop—how am I supposed to get off?!"

Whooosh~

A whistle blew, and an iron rod extended from the carriage.

The conductor shoved Li Banfeng off with the rod—he tumbled into the forest beside the tracks.

Before being shoved off, Li Banfeng tried to resist, but failed.

In Pulu Province, never offend a crew member—Li Banfeng had now truly felt the weight of this iron rule.

Where was this?

Li Banfeng brushed the dust off his body and tried to determine direction.

He could tell direction, but didn't know his exact location.

Should he walk back along the railway?

Li Banfeng had taken only a few steps when a sudden chill swept over him.

Danger.

The source of the danger wasn't hard to judge.

Ling Miaoying must suspect I'm on this train—he's probably hunting me along the route.

Ling Miaoying doesn't know where I got off—getting far away from the railway as soon as possible is the safest option.

Li Banfeng used his technique for avoiding danger and navigating fortune, moving through the forest—he walked for a long distance, the entire night.

The forest path was rough, and dangers came constantly; Li Banfeng, being new here, moved with extreme caution.

At dawn, Li Banfeng emerged from the forest, passed through a canyon, and finally saw signs of human habitation.

At the canyon's entrance stood eight massive gates—extremely exaggerated gates.

Each gate was five meters wide and eight meters tall, opening left and right in pairs, arranged in a straight line beneath four doorframes, completely blocking the canyon.

Though not close, Li Banfeng could tell these gates were extremely thick and made of sturdy material.

How much manpower would it take to open these gates?

What lay beyond them?

A secret realm?

Or a tomb?

Or perhaps…

Huff~ Huff~

What was that sound?

Was the train coming?

Was Ling Miaoying coming?

Li Banfeng heard the distinctive hiss of a steam locomotive and shuddered.

Looking around, he saw no train—but he saw the leftmost gate at the canyon entrance open.

Huff~ Huff~

He saw no one opening it, only black smoke and white mist spewing from the gate panels.

A steam gate?

Such a structure existed?

Whoo~ Whoo~

Two whistles sounded, and the gate fully opened.

Li Banfeng took a few steps toward the gate and sensed no danger.

He needed to ask for directions—and this was a perfect chance to see who controlled this steam gate.

But when he reached the other side, he saw no person—only a massive grandfather clock.

The clock stood two meters tall, its large pendulum swinging back and forth, fully reflecting Li Banfeng's entire figure.

Behind the dial extended numerous gears, driving massive connecting rods that controlled valves on the pipes.

Li Banfeng had studied mechanical basics in university; after watching for a long time, he seemed to grasp the mechanism.

This clock had both timekeeping and timer functions.

It was now seven a. . when the time arrived, the clock's mechanical system automatically opened the valve, and the steam engine drove the gate open.

High technology!

Li Banfeng had lived in Green Water City for so long and had never seen such a steam-powered automatic door.

The steam gate was exquisitely engineered—opening and closing required no human operation; limit switches on the hinges ensured the valve automatically closed once the gate reached its position.

But someone must tend the boiler, right?

Don't tell me there are steam robots.

Li Banfeng followed the smoke to the chimney, then found the boiler room.

The boiler room was indeed burning coal.

Five men worked there: two shoveling coal, two adding water, one recording temperature and pressure.

Li Banfeng stepped to the doorway and called out: "Gentlemen, where is this place?"

The boiler room was deafening; the men looked at Li Banfeng as if they couldn't hear him.

Li Banfeng shouted again: "Gentlemen, I'm asking for directions!"

The men still didn't hear him—they pointed to a sign at the door that read: "Unauthorized Personnel Keep Out."

Li Banfeng turned and walked away.

Asking for directions doesn't require asking these people.

In such a large village, who you ask doesn't matter.

They're busy; we don't need to be a nuisance.

The village had many houses, tightly packed, all nearly identical: two-story buildings, flat roofs, each with a large black iron door.

Each floor was about seventy to eighty square meters, so both floors totaled one hundred and fifty to one hundred and sixty; the spacing between buildings was roughly five meters.

How was this village built so uniformly?

Perhaps Li Banfeng had arrived too early—there wasn't a single pedestrian on the road.

With no pedestrians, who could he ask for directions?

Li Banfeng arrived at one of the buildings, knocked on the black iron door, and waited a long while—no one answered.

If this house didn't respond, he'd knock on the next.

The next house didn't respond either.

After knocking on over a dozen houses, one finally stirred.

Clatter~ clatter~

The cover over the door's peephole slid open.

Clatter~ clatter~

The person inside stared through the peephole for a long time, then opened a small window in the iron door.

"Who are you looking for?"

Behind the door stood a young man; through the small window, Li Banfeng could see most of his face.

His skin was very pale, as if he hadn't seen sunlight in a long time; his hair was slightly long but neatly kept; his upper lip was a uniform dark black—he shaved regularly, just not often.

The man's face gave Li Banfeng a sense of familiarity.

But the young man didn't find Li Banfeng familiar—he kept glancing around, trying to avoid Li Banfeng's gaze.

Clearly, he disliked strangers.

"I'm here to ask for directions," Li Banfeng said. "Where is this place?"

The young man replied: "This is Tiemenbao."

Tiemenbao?

Hou Sanfen?

I actually followed the train here.

How do I get back now?

Go to the station, buy a ticket?

Li Banfeng had a travel pass—round-trip passes for Heishipo and Lüshuicheng.

But would it work in Tiemenbao?

Even if it did, Li Banfeng didn't want to go to the station—his experiences at stations since arriving in Puluozhou had never been pleasant.

Go back from Xindi.

Yao Lao's map had marked the location of Tiemenbao.

"How do I get to Xindi?"

"Which Xindi are you asking about?"

Li Banfeng recalled the map's markings: "I need to go to Taohua Lake Xindi."

The man thought a moment, then said: "First, leave the fortress, then turn right at the main gate and walk straight."

After walking for about ten minutes, you'll reach a fork—you'll see a giant willow tree right at the junction, huge and unmistakable.

When you face the willow, turn left along the fork and keep going straight—don't turn off the path. Walk for half a day, and you'll see Taohua Lake.

Facing the lake, turn half a circle from left to right, walk to a large stone, then jump into the lake—in the lakebed, you'll find Xindi."

He used front, back, left, and right—not east, west, south, or north.

He measured distance by time—not by li or meters.

Li Banfeng felt even more familiar with this man.

"Thank you," Li Banfeng said, pulling out a banknote and shoving it into the man's hand.

The man lowered his head: "I don't want your money!"

Easily shy, easily flustered—Li Banfeng felt as if he were looking at an old friend.

He wanted to chat more, but the man seemed unwilling to speak.

Li Banfeng slipped the banknote into the door crack and turned to leave.

The man called out from behind: "Wait a moment."

Li Banfeng didn't wait.

The man unlocked his door and chased after him: "I don't want your money—I just forgot to tell you, if you can't swim, don't go to Taohua Lake. You'll drown."

Li Banfeng nodded: "Thank you, this money—"

"I don't want it!" The man was stubborn—typical cultivator stubbornness.

He turned to go back inside when he spotted an old man driving a donkey cart into the fortress.

The cart was loaded with sacks; the young man walked over and asked: "How much per jin for white rice?"

The old man was a grain seller.

"Two and a half!" The old man stopped the cart.

The young man thought it expensive, but said nothing.

He rarely bargained when buying things.

"Give me one sack."

The old man handed him a sack: "Fifty jin per sack, one hundred and twenty-five yuan."

The young man nodded, counted the money, and paid the old man.

He always paid before receiving goods.

The old man handed him the sack; the young man opened it and inspected it: "There's too much sand in this rice—can I exchange it for another?"

"All the same—what's the point of exchanging?" The old man drove off.

He wasn't good at haggling.

Especially after he'd already paid.

These traits were unmistakable.

They were typical of every cultivator.

Li Banfeng stared at the man and couldn't help asking: "Are you a cultivator?"

The man glanced at Li Banfeng, said nothing, picked up the rice, and went inside.

The old man driving the cart chuckled: "First time in Tiemenbao? Everyone here is a cultivator!"

Everyone is a cultivator?

Then I'll stay a couple more days.

After all, Ling Miaoying couldn't possibly know I'm here—this is a perfect chance to learn about cultivators.

PS: Tiemenbao—a place truly worthy of longing.

(End of Chapter)