Chapter 247: Broken Cocoon

Cong Shixiang ate the rust pill, not only did he suffer no harm, but he could also cause weapons to rust.

Startled, Li Banfeng didn't hesitate—he struck a match and threw it at Cong Shixiang.

Alcohol mist swirled; Cong Shixiang burst into flames, his body fat sizzling and smoking.

He didn't dodge, didn't struggle, didn't even rush to extinguish the fire.

He tore off his own rapidly charred skin and flesh, swallowing them whole along with the flames.

As for taste, Cong Shixiang was fairly satisfied—he drew a deep breath, inhaling all the flames on his body and the surrounding alcohol mist into his mouth, then spat them back at Li Banfeng.

Dodging this fireball wasn't hard, but Li Banfeng dared not close in again.

He didn't know what else Cong Shixiang could spit out, or what else he might swallow.

Cong Shixiang charged at Li Banfeng again; Li Banfeng kept a ten-meter distance, circling him, when Ren Wenlie shouted: "You're a young man, strong and healthy—dare you not face a decrepit old man in direct combat?"

Li Banfeng felt a pang of shame.

In his shame, Li Banfeng was blocked off by Cong Shixiang.

Then Cong Shixiang shouted again: "When paths meet narrow, the brave—"

If he finished that phrase—the shared script technique—Li Banfeng would have rushed in to fight him head-on.

If he fought head-on, Li Banfeng wouldn't survive a single round—not only would he die, but his corpse would be devoured by Cong Shixiang.

Fortunately, Li Banfeng was prepared—he suddenly began singing: "The moon is bright, the wind is still, the leaves shade the window lattice…"

In desperation, Li Banfeng could only recall this one song—he sang a lullaby.

But this song carried heavy power: first, Li Banfeng knew this place intimately; second, he had just left the mansion, his body in perfect condition, allowing the deep-residence technique to manifest fully.

As soon as he sang, Ren Wenlie struggled to stay awake, nearly falling asleep—his shared-script technique failed to activate, and his virtue-cultivation technique of aspiring to emulate goodness was disrupted.

Dealing with Ren Wenlie wasn't hard, but Cong Shixiang was far harder to handle.

Li Banfeng's song had no effect on him; their power disparity was vast—Li Banfeng was forced to retreat into the mountain fortress, where Cong Shixiang kicked the main gate to splinters and closed in two steps, pinning Li Banfeng against the wooden wall.

The fool's technique didn't work; the deep-residence technique didn't work—what could possibly stop him?

Li Banfeng climbed onto the roof; Cong Shixiang tried to follow, slipped, and fell.

Tea water suddenly welled up from the ground; as Cong Shixiang rose, he saw his skin and flesh rapidly sloughing off into the tea water—Li Banfeng stood on the roof, rubbing the teapot with both hands.

The tea water filled Cong Shixiang with revulsion—his body fat kept peeling away into it.

Li Banfeng feared he might smash through the wooden house—losing that footing would leave Li Banfeng with nowhere to stand.

But Cong Shixiang ignored the house—he only wanted to escape the tea water's range, and crashed into the barrier.

Thud!

The old teapot trembled in Li Banfeng's hands.

The last time it trembled like this was when he encountered Autumn Falling Leaves; Li Banfeng asked: "Is this man's strength comparable to Autumn Falling Leaves?"

The old teapot coughed twice: "Slightly less—I estimate I can withstand three or five more hits. Young man, this monster lacks full intellect—outwit him, don't fight him head-on."

This senior brother truly lacked intelligence—if he had normal wit, Li Banfeng would be dead already.

Thud! Thud!

Cong Shixiang kicked and punched the barrier repeatedly; Li Banfeng immediately cut off the teapot's technique.

Just moments ago, the tea water had reached his knees, but Cong Shixiang's pants now hung loose—he'd clearly lost much flesh.

Now the tea water had receded; Cong Shixiang moved slower, his reflexes dulled, his resistance weakened—Li Banfeng slashed and burned, tearing off chunks of flesh; Cong Shixiang staggered, the battle seemed nearly over.

Wobbling, Cong Shixiang suddenly lunged at a cow tied at the fortress gate.

It was left there by Niu Guangda; Cong Shixiang opened his mouth and shoved the entire cow's head inside.

Impossible!

The cow's head was larger than Cong Shixiang's own—let alone the horns—how did he fit it into his mouth?

No time to ponder—Li Banfeng rushed behind Cong Shixiang, stepped forward with "Crack Ten Thousand Rivers," shattered the ground stones, and sent shards flying into Cong Shixiang's skull and torso—causing some damage.

Cong Shixiang ignored it, continuing to devour the cow's body at terrifying speed.

Li Banfeng saw clearly: before entering his mouth, the cow's body had been compressed into a meatball.

Cong Shixiang's mouth stretched grotesquely—his facial skin elongated several feet, his lower jaw dropped to his navel.

Li Banfeng swung his sickle, striking Cong Shixiang's skull.

A pair of horns sprouted from Cong Shixiang's crown, locking onto Li Banfeng's sickle.

He whipped his hoof backward, kicking Li Banfeng over ten meters away.

Eating a cow turns you into a cow.

Luckily, he wasn't fully restored—this kick lacked full force; Li Banfeng rose, seeing Cong Shixiang had devoured the entire cow.

He wasn't full—he turned his gaze to Ren Wenlie.

Ren Wenlie remained calm, grabbed his junior brother Jiang Shirong, and hurled him toward Cong Shixiang.

Cong Shixiang grabbed Jiang Shirong's head with one hand, his feet with the other, twisted violently, wrung him into a rope, then kneaded him into a meatball, compressed thoroughly, and swallowed him whole.

This was why Ren Wenlie brought his junior brother along.

The remaining two junior brothers, seeing this, turned to flee; Ren Wenlie roared: "On the battlefield, those who flee die!"

Shared script.

The two junior brothers dared not run—fleeing now would mean certain death.

After devouring a cow and a man, Cong Shixiang was revitalized—raised his two ox horns, and charged at Li Banfeng.

At this point, Li Banfeng had only one choice left.

He shouted to the fortress dwellers to clear a path, luring Cong Shixiang straight into the cave.

Inside the cave, the ground was slick; Cong Shixiang slowed slightly, giving Li Banfeng time to fumble for his key.

He opened his portable dwelling, tossed the key out—Cong Shixiang crashed straight through the door.

"You bitch, tell me—how did you seduce my husband just now? You just—"

Crash!

Li Banfeng was slammed into the corner by Cong Shixiang.

The phonograph wheezed: "Husband, why did you bring home a cow?"

Cong Shixiang kept charging at Li Banfeng; the phonograph spewed steam, trapping him.

"Hey! This old ox is strong!" the phonograph sang in Beijing opera "Little Herder," "In March's bright sun, herding cows to the village edge, wildflowers red and bright, mountain grasses green and fresh…"

Huh~~

The wife's singing had no effect.

Cong Shixiang roared, nearly breaking free of the steam.

The wife gasped: "Broken cocoon?"

What broken cocoon?

The wife didn't answer, her movements suddenly hesitant: "This broken cocoon… could it be…"

Xiang Hongying suddenly spoke: "Quick, bring that bitch Xuan Sheng Honglian—she's perfect for this."

Li Banfeng rushed to find Honglian; these past two days, besides refining Qu Jingzhang, Honglian had been useless—he dragged her to Room Six.

He was sprinting toward Room Six when Cong Shixiang broke free of the steam and charged the phonograph.

If this had been the phonograph when it first entered, it might not have survived.

But now the phonograph was different—a record flew at Cong Shixiang, slicing off both legs below the knees.

Cong Shixiang fell to the ground, then crawled toward the phonograph.

The record sliced again, severing both hands.

Without limbs, Cong Shixiang's body writhed rapidly, still reaching the phonograph—his toothless mouth clamped onto the machine casing.

"Disgusting!" the phonograph spat in revulsion, instantly severing Cong Shixiang's head.

Now only a head remained, Cong Shixiang stopped gnawing the phonograph—he turned, swallowed his own body and limbs whole.

After swallowing, his head swelled rapidly, then a massive fleshy bulge rose beneath it.

One head, attached to a giant fleshy ball—Cong Shixiang resembled a roly-poly toy, wobbling on the ground, with tiny flesh buds sprouting from his limb areas.

Give him thirty to fifty seconds, limbs would regrow; give him three to five minutes, he'd restore his human form.

But he had no time.

The wife could slice him into paste—but she didn't act immediately.

Li Banfeng dragged Honglian over.

Honglian was covered in dewdrops, ready to argue with Li Banfeng.

Seeing Cong Shixiang, her mood improved—her dewdrops multiplied.

Hiss~

Petals opened; the lotus heart spun a vortex, dragging the still-recovering Cong Shixiang slowly toward its center.

Cong Shixiang struggled—but within the vortex, his strength seemed restrained.

"Huh~ Ah~"

Cong Shixiang cried out; as he neared the lotus heart, his body began to warp—just as it had when he devoured the cow.

Honglian intensified her power—the vortex grew fiercer; the wife added a burst of steam, shoving Cong Shixiang forward until he was fully swallowed by the lotus heart.

This was the first time Li Banfeng had seen Honglian hunt actively—she had never targeted living things before.

Wait—something's wrong.

"Wife, Honglian never eats living things—why the change today?"

Hiss~

"Hey, husband, this broken cocoon isn't alive."

"What's a broken cocoon?"

"At the transition from ninth to tenth level, half of it succeeded—the body ascended, but the soul didn't, shattering outright, becoming a walking corpse."

"Like a caterpillar that breaks its cocoon but never becomes a butterfly—still just a cocoon. That's why it's called a broken cocoon."

Ninth to tenth level?

Luckily, this thing lacks intelligence.

True enough—without a soul, it must lack intelligence.

Hisss~

The lotus closed its petals.

Ren Wenlie was still outside; Li Banfeng didn't linger, quickly leaving the Personal Dwelling.

Ssshh~

The wife turned the trumpet toward Hongying: "Wretched woman, who asked you to help me?"

At the critical moment of battle, Hongying reminded Li Banfeng to bring over the lotus, which indeed helped the phonograph.

Hongying sneered: "Wicked woman, I was worried that madman might falter—we'd all be trapped here. It's been years since we fought; your battle tactics aren't what they used to be."

"Wretched woman, how I fight is none of your business!"

……

Ren Wenlie stood at the mountain fortress gate, waiting for his senior brother's reply.

His two junior brothers, Pei Maojin and Gao Yangting, were still beside him, offering him advice.

"Senior brother, let's go inside—I'm afraid the senior brother might be in trouble."

The senior brother had just devoured one of the disciples, Jiang Shirong, who had entered the sect with them, yet Pei Maojin still worried he might be in trouble.

"Senior Ren, we can't let the senior brother fight alone—let's go lend a hand."

Gao Yangting didn't hesitate; no one knew whether this was due to Ren Wenlie's Virtue Cultivation technique or his true nature.

After much thought, Ren Wenlie decided to enter the mountain fortress and take a look.

Of course, he wouldn't walk ahead—he'd let his two junior brothers lead the way.

Pei Maojin and Gao Yangting truly stepped forward, displaying the aura of Disciples of the Sage, shouting all the way: "You rabble of rogues, committing crimes, doing every evil deed—their leader is already dead. How dare you still resist?"

Xiao Yeci blocked the path: "Dragon fights tiger—how dare you, lowly fish and crabs, interfere?"

Ren Wenlie froze—this woman's tone sounded like a Literary Cultivator. Was she using the Shared Script Technique?

Xiao Yeci clenched her teeth—she didn't know the Shared Script Technique, but she couldn't retreat an inch.

Ren Wenlie hesitated whether to engage the woman, when suddenly Li Banfeng spoke behind him: "Don't fight her—she's an eighth-level Literary Cultivator. You'd better fight me instead."

Ren Wenlie's heart trembled—he didn't know whether to advance or retreat.

To advance meant facing Xiao Yeci directly, while leaving his back exposed to Li Banfeng.

To retreat meant facing Li Banfeng directly, handing his back to Xiao Yeci—would that be safer?

Li Banfeng added: "If you can't decide where to go, stand still—don't move at all. That's the best strategy."

For a moment, Ren Wenlie truly believed standing still was right.

He dropped his weapon and shouted: "I won't kill unarmed—"

The word "iron" never left his lips—he choked on a mouthful of blood as Li Banfeng slit his throat.

PS: Dear readers, Happy Lunar New Year's Eve! Salara wishes you all a prosperous year!

(End of Chapter)