Chapter 250: Won Half

The Sage held a teacup, gently swaying it in his hand.

Li Banfeng's aura surged forth in waves, leaving the Sage both startled and strangely familiar.

"Have you been to battle?" the Sage asked.

"In a way," Li Banfeng replied vaguely—he had no need to be more specific.

Besides, it was technically true: whether one had been to battle depended on how one defined "battle."

The clash between Autumn Leaves and Water Gushing Spring was, by all accounts, a genuine battlefield.

The Sage asked again: "How old are you?"

Li Banfeng paused, then said: "I can't remember. Maybe about your age."

It was half-truth: Li Banfeng's age could not possibly match the Sage's, but he truly couldn't recall his own age—he was an orphan.

The Sage's dominance still clashed with Li Banfeng's aura; one disciple, unable to contain his curiosity, wondered what manner of man could stand equal to his master.

He glanced into the room—a small motion the Sage immediately noticed.

The Sage flicked his sleeve; the disciple outside who had looked up twisted in agony, every vein on his head swelling violently before bursting, blood spraying as he dropped dead.

The Sage looked at Li Banfeng and asked: "Do you understand now?"

Li Banfeng shook his head: "I don't."

"I told him to kneel here—he must kneel properly. That's my rule.

If he kneels poorly, he disobeys my rule—he deserves to die. Do you understand now?"

Li Banfeng glanced outside, pointed to another disciple, and said: "He's kneeling poorly too. Look at his posture—slack, careless, clearly lacking sincerity. Kill another one for me. I might understand if I see it a few more times."

The tea sloshed again; the Sage was furious, but he held himself back.

Li Banfeng sipped his tea—his heart was tight, but his face showed nothing.

The Sage set the teacup down and looked at Li Banfeng: "Do you know who I am?"

Li Banfeng countered: "What do you think?"

"You know the peddlers dare not come lightly to my territory?" The Sage wasn't lying—peddlers rarely came.

Li Banfeng pressed on: "That's why I'm here. As an elder brother, I've come to reclaim some dignity for my junior."

Even if it was nonsense, it had to sound convincing. Though He Yuxing's aura lent weight to his words, if he failed to intimidate the Sage, Li Banfeng's position would be perilous.

The Sage suddenly laughed, his menacing expression softening: "Do you think you can reclaim that dignity?"

Li Banfeng shook his head: "I can't. I've lost half. But I didn't lose to you."

Lost half.

The Sage fell silent for a moment, then burst into loud laughter—he found this claim deeply agreeable:

"You're right. You didn't lose to me.

I'll accept your terms. Tomorrow night, same time, you take your people away. In this shanzhai, as many as wish to follow you, you may take.

Before ten o'clock, you must depart, heading south, keep going until you see a way out.

Once you're gone, this matter is settled. If you ever find a way to reclaim your dignity, I'll still be here waiting."

Li Banfeng nodded: "Agreed."

"Our meeting is fate. I have something to give you." The Sage waved his hand; a white-robed disciple knelt and crawled forward, carrying a book box, until he reached Li Banfeng's side.

Li Banfeng took the box and looked at the white-robed youth: "You can kneel-walk quite well—you must practice often.

But just now, you weren't paying attention. Your knee steps were uneven. I think that's because your respect is lacking. Walk back and forth a few more times. Let me see your sincerity."

As he spoke, the white-robed youth broke into cold sweat—he feared his master would believe Li Banfeng and kill him on the spot.

The Sage did not punish the disciple; he waved him away, and the youth retreated from the wooden hut.

Li Banfeng took the book box but did not open it. He weighed it in his hands, estimating four or five books inside.

The Sage said to Li Banfeng: "These are historical records—true records. Don't you want to open them and look?"

Li Banfeng shook his head: "Reading isn't urgent. What if I don't recognize some characters? Then you'd laugh at me."

These historical texts must never be opened before the Sage.

Li Banfeng claimed to be the Sage's age, but if he was unfamiliar with historical records—or couldn't even judge the authenticity of these texts—he would reveal his ignorance, and the cost of that would be obvious.

The Sage smiled: "Even if you dislike reading, you must know the price of the Provinces of Pu's historical records. These scrolls alone could buy you ten thousand taels of silver. This gift is not light."

Li Banfeng thanked him and set the box aside carelessly.

The Sage rose and said: "I've shown full sincerity. I hope you keep your word. Tomorrow night at ten, I'll come to see your situation. If you deceive me, I'll keep you here forever—and then see who regrets it."

With that, the Sage left.

Li Banfeng called after his retreating back: "No written contract?"

The Sage laughed: "A gentleman's word needs no paper."

Dominance surged again; Li Banfeng forced himself not to tremble.

Was Li Banfeng truly afraid of him?

Yes.

But was there truly no way to deal with him?

Not at all.

He could continue ambushing, keep fighting, turn the entire Jianren Gang upside down to extract more gains.

Even if the Sage moved to kill him, Li Banfeng could retreat to his personal dwelling for temporary safety.

But Li Banfeng had decided to leave.

As he said, he hadn't lost to the Sage—but he had lost half of this battle. Some things were beyond his power to change.

He now understood why peddlers rarely came to Jianren Gang.

After seeing the Sage off, Li Banfeng called Xiao Ye Ci: "Have you decided? Will you come with me, or stay here?"

Xiao Ye Ci straightened his chest: "I'll follow my benefactor—I won't stay here."

Li Banfeng confirmed again: "You're ready to leave now, without hesitation?"

Xiao Ye Ci answered sincerely: "If my benefactor says go, I go—no hesitation at all."

Lu Chunying added from the side: "Let my mother change her pants first—does that count as hesitation?"

Li Banfeng answered seriously: "Changing pants doesn't count. Once you've changed, go around the shanzhai and ask how many want to stay and how many want to leave. Tell me by eight tomorrow night."

Xiao Ye Ci dared not neglect Li Banfeng's orders.

She went door to door, asking everyone.

She knew these people didn't want to raid anymore, didn't want to risk their lives.

But she believed that if they could leave, they'd agree without hesitation.

But she was wrong.

She asked everyone—and not a single person immediately agreed to follow her benefactor. Their answers were all vague.

"Sister Xiao, I hurt my foot hauling the cart—I need two more days to rest."

"Madam Xiao, we can't leave now. Armies move after provisions. We must wait until the next harvest."

They didn't want to leave—they found every excuse to delay.

But upon closer inquiry, three main reasons emerged.

First, those brought here by force had nowhere to go if they left.

Second, those sent here by their families would likely be sent back if they returned.

Third, those who didn't believe Li Banfeng thought he couldn't defeat the Sage—or get them out alive.

To Xiao Ye Ci, all three reasons made sense.

But to Li Banfeng, none of them were the real issue.

The real issue was: their lives here were still bearable.

As long as life was still bearable, they were willing to keep living it.

This was exactly what Li Banfeng expected.

This place was different—from Yaowang Gou, Lüshuicheng, Tiemenbao. Those who stayed here long became unlike anyone elsewhere.

The next night at eight, Li Banfeng departed immediately, without hesitation or delay.

At the shanzhai gate, Niu Guangda tied his ox aside, slung his pack over his shoulder, and walked behind Li Banfeng: "My benefactor, I came to tend the ox to avoid drawing attention—I'm sticking with you. Wherever you go, I go. I won't stay here to suffer."

Li Banfeng smiled. This boy still had hope.

Along the way, another twenty or so joined them.

They were all young—they believed Li Banfeng could get them out.

The rest stayed behind, continuing their quiet life in the shanzhai.

But their peace was short-lived. Soon after Li Banfeng left, the Sage's disciple arrived.

He demanded: seven-tenths of the Jianren Gang's harvest—grain, livestock, silk—all must be surrendered to the Sage Peak.

Seven-tenths?

Wasn't that too high?

The villagers initially refused—but the disciple had cultivation. After killing several people, he patiently explained:

"Your benefactor is gone. No one protects you now. The Sage's patience is nearly spent. If you don't repent, you'll die."

The benefactor was gone. No one dared challenge the Sage now.

Why did the benefactor leave? Why couldn't he stay with us?

Seven-tenths…

Fine.

The remaining thirty percent was barely enough to get by; back in the village, they sometimes couldn't even keep thirty percent of the harvest, so life now was already much better.

Outside the shanzhai gate, the Saint watched everything happening within the shanzhai.

He watched these villagers go from trying to resist, to being angry but silent, and finally to not even daring to be angry.

Another village would soon rise here; such scenes had appeared before.

They would forget where this village came from, they would surrender more of their harvest, the Saint's disciples would soon come to teach, and in no time, the Saint would become the most important thing in their lives.

As for that benefactor, no one here would mention him lightly anymore.

A young man had just mentioned him, his tone brimming with contempt: "He just left without a word, not even looking back—he never intended to take us with him."

The Saint looked southward and asked the white-robed disciple: "Do you think he'll come back?"

The white-robed disciple replied respectfully: "He has already lost to Master. He will never dare return."

The Saint shook his head: "I think he will return. He hasn't lost—he won half. Of all those who have escaped my domain so quickly, only the peddler and he have done it. That alone means he won."

As for the other half, he did lose—but not to me. He lost to these wretched creatures, irredeemable wretches."

The Saint continued watching every move within Benefactor's Shanzhai; he found this place, Wretched Hill, so delightful.

He turned his face southward again and said to the white-robed disciple: "Send a message to your Second Senior Brother—this man's identity must be uncovered."

PS: No break on New Year's Day—all moon tickets to Salad!

(End of Chapter)