Chapter 312: Fengquweng

Meng De gained the upper hand in the argument, and Li Banfeng sensed the shift in the technique.

The old man still patiently reasoned, and he truly could make sense: "Whether or not she's a Demon-Scourge, that woman was going to kill your master—I saved your master's life, so this offering must count."

Meng De fell silent again, and Li Banfeng's right leg, which had just begun to loosen, grew uncontrollable once more.

"What else is there to say?" The old man raised his short knife again.

Li Banfeng asked: "How do you know that woman intended to kill me?"

The old man said: "She spoke to him without cause, flirting openly—clearly she had ill intentions!"

Meng De seized the opening: "Not necessarily—perhaps the woman was smitten with my master and genuinely threw herself into his arms!"

The old man shook his head: "That excuse is utterly absurd!"

Li Banfeng said: "Why call it absurd? How do you know what that woman was thinking? Was she your accomplice?"

Li Banfeng was right again—the woman truly was the old man's accomplice.

The old man's arm trembled violently; this backlash was severe.

Meng De seized the chance and launched a fierce attack: "You shameless, dishonorable scoundrel! You conspired with a shameless woman to seduce my master with base tricks!

My master, upright and unyielding, remained unmoved—yet you cry thief and stage your own farce, then dare speak of offerings and demand payment!

Your base methods belong only in gutters, yet you dare stir up trouble here, act the fool, and waste your years—you don't even know how to write the word 'base'!"

This furious tirade left the old man speechless, gaping in shock.

Li Banfeng felt the bindings on his legs had loosened by about seventy or eighty percent—he waited only for the right moment to pull out the key.

Don't rush.

Train Gong Gong had warned Li Banfeng: this small motion of pulling out the key would draw attention.

The old man didn't notice Li Banfeng—he was still arguing with Meng De.

Strange—he's the one controlling me, so why does he keep arguing with Meng De?

Could it be that he's not speaking to me at all?

Then who is he speaking to?

The old man fell silent for a moment, then suddenly spoke: "Let's set aside my saving him—I still gave him three offerings!"

How could he say that?

The old man said: "I took him to watch a fine performance—isn't that an offering?"

That counts too!

You can play it like this?

The old man had indeed staged a performance, and Li Banfeng had indeed watched it.

But Li Banfeng never wanted to watch it.

It seemed that whether you wanted to or not, if you watched, you owed the old man.

Li Banfeng had no reply, but Meng De remained calm.

She calmly unfastened her collar.

What is she doing? Did she learn this from a projector?

Meng De slipped her qipao down slightly, revealing a pair of bare shoulders.

The old man froze: "What is the meaning of this?"

Meng De smiled: "See? Is my performance pleasing?"

The old man growled: "I don't want it—this doesn't count as payment!"

Meng De snorted: "If you don't want it, don't look. But since you looked, you've accepted it!"

The Cultivator of Virtue was suppressing his gate.

The old man was furious, trembling all over.

The bindings on Li Banfeng's legs vanished completely.

He immediately pulled out the key, opened his personal dwelling, and dragged Meng De inside.

"Don't run!" The old man reached for Li Banfeng, who sidestepped and pulled the old man inside with him.

The room was dark, lit only by a single candle.

Beside the candle stood a mirror, and a long spear was grooming itself before it.

The spear was grooming itself…

This sight plunged the old man into deep thought.

Suddenly, drums and gongs sounded behind him, accompanied by a clear singing voice.

"Hey, you wretched woman, your eyes are blind—why are you staring into the mirror?"

"I love the mirror because I'm beautiful."

"Where are you beautiful?"

"My face and waist are beautiful—far better than your ghastly appearance."

The old man turned to see a phonograph arguing with the spear.

The old man gritted his teeth: "After all these years, I've finally seen a demon!"

Hong Ying turned her face toward the voice: "Who are you calling a demon?"

The old man looked at Li Banfeng: "Demon, is this your den?"

Li Banfeng froze: "You're calling me a demon?"

The old man pulled a handful of wild berries from his right pocket, ready to throw them on the ground.

A wisp of steam suddenly bound his right hand, preventing him from releasing the berries.

"Hey, husband, you've brought home a Fengquweng."

Li Banfeng blinked: "What's a Fengquweng?"

The phonograph said: "A wandering spirit from the new lands—gives three offerings, demands three returns. This thing isn't low-tier! This is our home—if those berries touch the ground, we've accepted his gift—wouldn't that mean we've accepted another offering?"

The old man reached into his left pocket—suddenly, a surge of pressure struck him, making him shudder. With a swift *whoosh*, his left hand fell to the floor.

"Who… my hand!" The old man didn't understand why his hand had been severed.

Hong Ying sat calmly before the mirror, still grooming herself, as if she hadn't moved.

The phonograph snorted: "Wretched woman, you've taken one of his hands—that counts as one offering."

"Is that so?" Hong Ying set down her rouge and picked up her eyebrow pencil.

*Whoosh!

Another sound—the old man's legs were severed at the knees.

The old man wanted to speak: one hand, two legs—that made three offerings. He could now demand his payment.

But he couldn't speak anymore.

Hong Ying drew a line with her eyebrow pencil—the old man's throat sprouted a hole.

Now the Fengquweng couldn't speak.

The phonograph roared: "Wretched woman, don't kill him—I haven't eaten yet!"

Hong Ying continued drawing her brows: "The soul's yours; let me have some of the flesh."

"Oh, you wretched woman—you don't even eat mortal food!"

"Times have changed," Hong Ying smiled. "I'm a young lady with a front door and a back door—these days are special. I need to eat something to replenish my blood and qi."

"Special days!" The phonograph sneered. "Why don't you just have a baby?"

"Soon. When I do, I'll ask you, wicked hag, to babysit!"

The phonograph grew angry; Hong Ying's seventh chamber, Honglian, grew angrier still.

Hong Ying, you wretched woman—why can't you just eat souls? Why must you devour flesh?

Hong Ying finished her eyebrows and asked softly: "Qi Lang, do you think I'm beautiful?"

"Qi Lang, I'm asking you."

"Qi Lang, where are you?"

Li Banfeng stood behind the phonograph.

The phonograph giggled: "Hey, husband, don't touch my belly—it tickles!"

"Let the husband feel—see if my wife has grown plump."

"Husband, why do you always wish me to grow fat?"

"A household thrives when the wife is plump!"

Hong Ying's body trembled violently, her loose hair shaking with her.

The Fengquweng's right hand broke free from the steam, dipped in its own blood, and tried to write on the floor.

Hong Ying's body swayed, severing the hand entirely.

"Wicked hag, eat quickly—don't make any more trouble," Hong Ying muttered, brushing her hair before the mirror with a comb.

The phonograph held back laughter: "Husband, stop fooling around—do the serious work first."

Though the phonograph and Hong Ying handled the Fengquweng easily, they showed him no contempt.

The Fengquweng, using the broken bones of his arm, still wrote on the floor.

The phonograph bound the Fengquweng in steam and began sucking his soul.

Li Banfeng couldn't understand: "Why is he writing?"

The phonograph sang as she sucked: "Fengquweng, Fengquweng, chant your sutras before demanding payment."

"What does that mean?"

"This is an old folk song, describing the nature of the Fengquweng: before demanding a reward, it must first clearly state its purpose; if it cannot explain clearly, it may not act."

"Is that the Fengquweng's nature?"

"Not a nature—a law. Not just the Fengquweng, all Fengxiu abide by this law."

"The Fengquweng is formed from a high-level Fengxiu. Judging by the quality of this soul, this Fengquweng should be at the eighth layer."

"What sect is the Fengxiu?"

"A sect that cultivates solely through offerings: make one offering, receive one reward."

"The Fengquweng has been tainted by the New Land; its condition is unusual—it requires at least three offerings before it may demand a reward, otherwise it suffers cultivation backlash."

"Such a thing is exceedingly rare in the New Land. How did you come across it, Master?"

"He brought a woman to trick me. I didn't fall for it. Then he moved a stone for me to sit on, gave me a branch as a cane, summoned a breeze to wipe my sweat—claimed he'd made three offerings…"

The Fengquweng writhed violently. Li Banfeng warned, "Madam, be careful—this old thing moves fast."

"His strike isn't necessarily fast, but his steps are. Still, it depends on who he's facing. This is a Fengxiu technique called 'Debt-Chasing Death'—anyone who accepts his offering will be relentlessly pursued."

"Master, you've held your own against him this long—your steps aren't slow either!"

Uh…

Li Banfeng quickly changed the subject: "Madam, look—what words did he write?"

"Nothing worth looking at. Just more of his usual justifications. These justifications don't need to be spoken aloud—written down is enough."

"Written for whom? We won't read them—then his technique won't work."

"It's not written for us. Fengxiu chant sutras for themselves—they must understand them internally for the technique to take effect. I can't explain why, but I know this sect tests one's inner nature deeply."

After the Changji consumed the soul, Hong Ying took some flesh and blood from the Fengquweng and smeared it onto the spear tip.

After the coating, the spear tip glowed a deeper red.

She wanted to ask Li Qi if it looked good, but heard Li Qi playing again with Changji.

Listening to Changji's laughter, it sounded like Li Qi was rubbing against its belly.

After finishing, Zhongbai and the earrings rushed forward. Tang Dao, unwilling to be left behind, snatched a piece of flesh and bolted away.

The Judge's Pen snorted, wanting to eat but too lazy to move.

The wine gourd and the old teapot each took a sip. Changji took some fresh blood and poured it over the adhesive tape. The tape, previously half-used, began rapidly regrowing—soon forming a full new roll.

The projector sighed deeply: "Why are you all so cruel!"

It released a girl to cut off a piece of flesh and placed it inside the film chamber.

The gloves shook their head repeatedly: "I simply can't watch anymore."

It entered the third room, shut the door, and, while no one was looking, spat out a piece of flesh, trembling with excitement:

"This piece is the best—the fools and madwomen here don't understand!"

Hong Ying sat quietly for a moment, then suddenly felt a change in her body.

Her conscience was growing. Her peach was growing. Her cultivation base was recovering.

"Now I understand why you're all so greedy—eating flesh and blood in this room truly makes a difference!"

Hong Ying rushed forward and joined the others in scrambling for scraps.

Li Banfeng cut off a piece of flesh and set it aside for Mengde.

"You did great in this battle. Before, when Hong Ying hit you, she went too hard—don't hold a grudge."

Mengde clutched its peach, face twisted in pout: "Master didn't even offer to rub it for me."

"Huh!" Changji roared. "Wretched woman, still asking for a beating? Hang yourself on the wall!"

The family had eaten their fill; the Fengquweng was nearly gone.

Li Banfeng brought over Honglian and placed it beside the Fengquweng: "Eat."

Honglian trembled for a moment, then unfurled its petals, as if speaking something to Changji.

Changji growled impatiently: "Fine, I know—less flesh means fewer pills. I won't blame you."

Honglian was furious. Li Banfeng frowned: "Fine, don't eat. Save it for their next meal."

Honglian no longer hesitated. It absorbed the entire Fengquweng—not a single drop of blood remained.

Changji warned: "Master, we still don't know the Fengquweng's origins. In my memory, one never encounters such a thing without cause. You must be extra cautious."

He should be cautious. First it was a snot worm, now a Fengquweng—where are all these high-level wandering monsters coming from?

And this matter isn't even cleaned up yet.

Li Banfeng asked the projector: "Did you memorize the Fengquweng's appearance?"

PS: Who else hasn't been cleaned up?

(End of Chapter)