Chapter 241: Disciple of the Sage

The man in white robes declared he would kneel indefinitely, and the crowd immediately echoed his sentiment.

They knelt right before the gate.

Li Banfeng feared no evil man, but he must avoid the vile—vile men were more detestable and far more troublesome than evil ones.

But the key question now was: where should he go?

Going north was definitely out—the risk of ending up circling back was too high.

Since he could confirm the exact direction of true north, he could deduce the others; Li Banfeng chose to head east.

To the east lay several small hills, unlike the barren plain directly north; as long as he followed the mountains, he wouldn't get lost.

On the way down the mountain, Li Banfeng kept wondering what these sages ate daily—he'd wandered the mountain for hours without seeing a single field or farmer.

Halfway up the slope, Li Banfeng spotted an old man, seventy years old, pulling a cart full of white rice uphill, with two others pushing behind him: one his son, in his early thirties, the other his ten-year-old grandson.

The rice was heavy; the three strained to push the cart, and when they reached the halfway point, the old man stopped, took a sip of plain water, and the three of them bit into coarse grain cakes.

Clearly honest folk, Li Banfeng stepped forward and asked, "Excuse me, how do I get to the nearest train station?"

The old man's son looked up and said, "You're looking for a station? That's far away."

The old man smiled, "You're here to study, aren't you? Didn't see the Sage today? Young man, don't rush—when your sincerity is true, the Sage will surely receive you."

Li Banfeng shook his head, "I'm not here to study. I'm just passing through."

Upon hearing this, the old man's son sneered and refused to engage further.

The old man seemed to sense something hidden and advised Li Banfeng, "Studying isn't easy. The Sage teaches the ultimate truths of the world—how could he casually impart them to anyone?"

"My family has delivered rice to the Sage for sixteen years straight, hoping he'd take my son as a disciple. Now my son is old, and the Sage won't accept him—so we hope my grandson might have the destiny."

"Rice?" Li Banfeng looked at the full cart, then at the coarse grain cakes in their hands, and asked, "How much per jin?"

The old man glared at Li Banfeng, "Money? It's about sincerity. The Sage eating our rice is our family's fortune."

White rice they wouldn't even eat themselves—given freely to the Sage?

Li Banfeng couldn't suppress his curiosity and asked, "What exactly is this Sage's ultimate teaching?"

The old man's smile vanished; he tucked away the coarse grain cake.

The son grew tense, glanced around, and told Li Banfeng, "On the Sage's mountain, you must know your place. You don't even understand basic etiquette—no wonder the Sage won't see you."

The old man waved them off, signaling they should hurry and stop speaking to Li Banfeng.

The son quickly straightened the cart and let the old man pull from the front.

Li Banfeng said, "You're stronger than your father—why don't you pull from the front?"

The son snorted, "That's sincerity. Do you understand?"

A seventy-year-old man pulling a cart of rice—his sincerity was indeed extraordinary.

The ten-year-old boy never stopped eating his cake, never once looked up.

At this age, children are voracious eaters—one coarse grain cake clearly wasn't enough.

Li Banfeng asked the boy, "Have you ever eaten white rice?"

The boy glanced at Li Banfeng, then ran off to help his father push the cart.

Li Banfeng continued down the mountain, encountering many students seeking study, and others delivering grain, vegetables, livestock.

Compared to those on the mountain, they were more talkative—when they saw Li Banfeng, they didn't immediately turn away; at least they'd exchange a few words.

But whenever he asked about the train station, everyone avoided the topic—they didn't believe he was just passing through; they all assumed he'd been rejected by the Sage, grown despondent, and now wanted to leave.

Everyone urged Li Banfeng to stay longer—sincerity would move the Sage, they insisted.

After realizing he couldn't communicate with these people, Li Banfeng stopped asking for directions; whenever he met someone ascending, he detoured around them—he only wanted to get off the mountain as soon as possible.

Every person on this mountain, every blade of grass, every tree, even the air itself, filled Li Banfeng with revulsion—even in Kucaizhuang, he'd never felt this miserable.

At the foot of the mountain, Li Banfeng kept heading east, walking over a hundred li, until at last he saw hope.

Ahead, a mountain blocked his path—but it was unlike the previous one.

This was a hill, noticeably shorter, and at its base lay a village.

Li Banfeng entered the village and saw lush fields, and farmers working the land.

The repulsive air seemed to vanish; his nerves gradually relaxed.

But the villagers' nerves did not relax—his arrival made them tense, even fearful.

His clothing terrified them, his manner terrified them, even his tone of voice terrified them.

Li Banfeng understood this reaction.

The village was so remote; the villagers rarely saw outsiders—it was perfectly natural to be wary.

When he asked about the train station, a few villagers said they didn't know; most stared blankly at him—as if the very concept of a train station didn't exist in their world.

Li Banfeng understood this too.

Many villagers may have never ridden a train; even Qin Tianjiu, raised in Yaowanggou, had never ridden one in his life—it was perfectly normal.

From one end of the village to the other, Li Banfeng heard the clear, ringing sound of children reciting.

The innocence and vitality in their voices convinced Li Banfeng that he had left the territory of the Sage's peak.

No matter how remote the place, as long as there was a school teaching real knowledge, there was life and hope.

What were they learning?

"The root of heaven and earth begins in the Sage's heart,

The change of heaven and earth begins in the Sage's thought,

The essence of heaven and earth begins in the Sage's virtue,

The source of heaven and earth begins in the Sage's will."

Upon hearing the word "Sage," Li Banfeng's scalp prickled.

Was this real knowledge?

He couldn't rashly judge—it was traditional learning; he'd been in Puluozhou less than a year, and some traditions might truly be beyond him.

As he drew closer, he saw the recitation wasn't coming from a schoolhouse—it came from a rice paddy.

A group of children, all under ten, recited the Sage's scriptures while planting rice seedlings.

This was perfectly normal—children learned both cultural knowledge and survival skills.

One child carefully planted a row of seedlings, when a middle-aged man stepped into the paddy and crushed them underfoot.

"Replant," the man ordered.

The child didn't know what he'd done wrong; he looked up at the man.

The man slapped the child hard, sending him tumbling into the muddy water; before the child could rise, he kicked him again.

The child struggled but couldn't get up; the man grabbed him, dragged him to the edge, broke off a willow branch, and whipped him relentlessly.

The child's parents watched—his mother trembled with pain, her body shaking.

His father stood beside him, holding him back, muttering the same phrases over and over: "This is for your own good… all for your own good…"

The man struck a few more times, shouting, "Don't cry. Show some spirit. If you can't endure a little pain, what right do you have to learn the Sage's teachings?"

Was this normal?

Li Banfeng stood at the edge of the field, his veins bulging.

Childhood memories, unpleasant ones, surged into his mind.

The man stared at the child and asked, "Do you know why I hit you? Why I made you replant?"

The child shook his head, bewildered.

The man roared, "Doubt in your heart means insincere intent. I told you to replant—just replant! Why doubt? You're worthless wood, unfit for carving!"

Seeing the child covered in wounds, the man's expression remained cold: "I'll apply medicine."

He grabbed a handful of salt and moved to rub it into the child's skin.

The child trembled violently; his parents trembled beside him, still whispering, "Child, this is for your good… all for your good…"

The man clutched the salt and growled, "Endure the pain. Reflect here. If you dare cry out again, you won't come to study tomorrow—you're not worthy…"

Thud!

Li Banfeng kicked the man square in the face.

The man staggered backward and fell into the muddy paddy; his nose was crooked from the blow, blood gushing.

The man stared at Li Banfeng in shock.

Everyone around stared at Li Banfeng.

The man mumbled, "Who are you?"

Li Banfeng's hat brim was low; he stood with his back to the sun—the man couldn't see his face.

"Don't ask who I am. Do you know why I hit you?"

The man looked utterly confused.

Thud!

Li Banfeng kicked him again, right in that confused face.

The man lay flat on his back in the mud, mouth full of dirt and sand; it took him a long time to sit up.

"Y-you… why are you hitting me?"

Two of his teeth had been knocked out; his speech was slurred.

Thud!

Li Banfeng kicked him again.

"Doubt in your heart means insincere intent. I hit you—you take it quietly! Why doubt? You're worthless wood, unfit for carving!"

With that, Li Banfeng grabbed the man's hair and kicked him repeatedly.

The man sobbed hoarsely; Li Banfeng clamped his hand over the man's mouth: "Stop crying. Have some dignity. If you can't even endure a little pain, what right do you have to preach sages' teachings?"

"I'll apply some medicine. Bear the pain, sit here and reflect. If you dare scream again, go hang yourself. If you're too cowardly to do it, I'll help you. Understood?"

With that, Li Banfeng grabbed a handful of salt and rubbed it into the man's face.

The man screamed through his tears: "He beat me, beat me..."

Li Banfeng frowned: "You still didn't get it? Fine. I'll take you somewhere to hang."

The villagers around were stunned. One man shouted: "He struck a disciple of the Sage! Stop him! Don't let him escape!"

A disciple of the Sage?

This is what the Sage teaches?

Stop me?

What the hell is wrong with these people?

Letting their own children be tortured by this bastard—and they're okay with it?

"So what if I beat him?" Li Banfeng gripped the middle-aged man, twisted his wrist, and snapped his neck.

He killed the disciple of the Sage!

Yes, killed him.

This kind of scum is a curse on this world.

The villagers rushed forward to block Li Banfeng, shouting: "Don't let him go!"

"Take him to Sage Peak and flay him alive!"

Li Banfeng dropped the corpse of the middle-aged man and stepped out of the rice paddy, facing the villagers: "Tell your Sage this man was killed by me. Let's see who dares stop me today!"

As his words fell, the crowd fell silent.

Li Banfeng strode away, and no one dared follow.

One villager whispered: "We don't need to stop him. He's committed a grave crime—the Sage won't let him leave."

Li Banfeng sneered. He'd see just how powerful this Sage really was.

By dusk, Li Banfeng returned to the village.

He hadn't left at all. After walking for half the day, he was back in this same village.

Seeing Li Banfeng appear, every villager rushed home and slammed their doors shut.

Li Banfeng sat at the village entrance, tapped his wine gourd: "Sister, do you remember? Where exactly is this place?"

The gourd fell silent for a long while, then replied: "I've been thinking, but I swear I've never been here before."

"What about you?" Li Banfeng asked the old teapot.

The old teapot coughed twice: "This place is damn strange—I've never been here either..."

Forget it. I'll ask my wife in the Portable Dwelling.

Li Banfeng was about to pull out his key when he heard footsteps approaching from afar.

He stood up and asked softly: "Who's there?"

A soft female voice came: "Master, it's me. How did you end up here?"

PS: Who is this person?

(End of Chapter)