Chapter 315: The Covenant of the Land God

The Mountain-Pulling Master scanned the room's shattered limbs and broken corpses, sneering: "You've always pretended to be a virtuous woman, but behind closed doors you're so cruel and venomous—a hypocritical bitch deserves ten thousand cuts."

She was cursing Meng Yu, but Hong Ying misunderstood.

Hong Ying turned the gun barrel toward the voice and asked: "Old hag, who are you calling?"

The Mountain-Pulling Master swung her cane: "Are you the household spirit?"

"Yes!" Hong Ying flicked the gun's tip with pride.

Now the tip was caked in blood, blending with its metallic base into an eerie beauty.

The phonograph suddenly shouted: "Hey, you bitch, what kind of household spirit are you? Do you even get to rule this house?"

The Mountain-Pulling Master turned to the phonograph, initially thinking it was just a tea kettle spewing steam and smoke.

Now she realized it had a vinyl record spinning endlessly, with a horn that emitted sound.

Meng Yu had two household spirits.

She'd heard of such things—some high-level household cultivators indeed possessed more than one household spirit.

So what was that man?

The Mountain-Pulling Master looked at Li Banfeng: "Are you also a household spirit?"

"I…" Li Banfeng didn't know how to explain.

The Mountain-Pulling Master laughed: "Enough. I'll send you all to your graves together!"

Boom!

Her cane slammed into the floor; invisible force surged upward, lifting every corpse and magic treasure in the room.

Tang Dao cried out and dove into Li Banfeng's pocket along with the glove.

The music box, clumsier, tried to reach Li Banfeng but couldn't fly over.

The Judge's Pen hovered midair, unbothered, and rolled over to sleep.

The Calendar rolled itself up and hung from the pendulum, flying beside Li Banfeng with the wine gourd.

Even flying beside Li Banfeng wasn't safe—he himself was lifted into the air.

In the main hall, tables, chairs, bowls, buckets, even Li Banfeng's bed all rose into the air.

"A Power Cultivator?" The phonograph, unmoved, calmly exhaled steam. "Such a sect is rare these days."

"What's rare about it? Weren't there plenty on the battlefield back then?" Hong Ying also didn't fly; her loose hair fluttered slightly.

Hssss~

The phonograph chuckled: "Blind hag, those days are gone. Power Cultivators are being driven to the brink by Wu Xius."

Hong Ying snorted: "One force crushes ten tricks. One speed breaks a hundred arts. What are Wu Xius?"

While they bickered over cultivation levels, the Mountain-Pulling Master realized the situation was dire.

These two household spirits hadn't been lifted—meaning their strength rivaled Meng Yu's. Killing them quickly would be extremely difficult.

That male household spirit seemed powerless. Use him as leverage—maybe I can escape.

The Mountain-Pulling Master shifted her force, aiming to slam Li Banfeng to the ground.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

A tight drumbeat rang out; the Mountain-Pulling Master felt her breath choke, her techniques faltering.

Amid the rhythm of gongs and drums, Li Banfeng and all the furniture and magic treasures slowly settled back to their places—the Lady had shattered her technique.

The Mountain-Pulling Master swung her cane at the phonograph.

Boom!

The phonograph's front cabinet emitted a dull thud.

She struck the front door—but her force didn't land; her breath pulsed with the drumbeats, her internal power clashing against itself.

The phonograph's voice turned icy: "Foolish old crone—who gave you the right to touch my husband?"

The old crone trembled, gathering all her strength to break free from the phonograph's control.

The gongs and drums grew denser, mingling with the Lady's chilling singing: "I went to the Gazing Platform myself, and saw only little ghost soldiers and great ghost judges, dragging the souls of the wrongfully dead, iron chains around their necks, wretched, wretched, wretched, cold winds swirling, piercing me to the bone."

"Probing the Nether Mountain"—originally a painted-face aria—the Lady had altered the melody and rhythm, transforming it into a blue-robed woman's tune, its melody dark and mournful, making the Mountain-Pulling Master shudder, drenched in cold sweat.

No.

I can't fight this household spirit!

The Mountain-Pulling Master turned toward the door—but it wouldn't open.

She saw another door behind Li Banfeng, and transformed into a ghostly flame, rushing toward it.

This enraged the Lady further—she thought the old hag was targeting Li Banfeng.

A burst of steam struck, forcing the crone to reveal her true form; the needle pierced her eyeball, hooked into the socket, and yanked her back.

"You truly don't know death! You dare touch my husband!" Boiling steam heated the needle red-hot, scorching the crone's eye socket into smoke.

The crone tried brute force to snap the needle—but the chilling singing never ceased; she could never muster strength.

Li Banfeng didn't understand.

The Lady's singing was beautiful—why did it have such lethal power over the old hag?

As he pondered, sudden warmth brushed his ear.

What's happening?

Li Banfeng yanked off his earring and snapped: "Didn't I tell you not to piss in my ear?"

Hong Ying warned the earring: "Listen when you're told to listen, and don't listen when you're not. This wicked woman fears hurting her man, so she let you hear the pretty parts. If you heard the real sound, your souls would scatter."

The Mountain-Pulling Master flexed her wrist—on it was a golden bracelet, a rare spiritual artifact, perhaps her last hope.

She wriggled for a long while—the bracelet didn't respond.

Strange. Where's the bracelet?

The bracelet is gone!

The needle heated again; the singing layered thickly, as if hundreds of performers sang one grand opera.

The Mountain-Pulling Master, hanging from the needle, gradually stopped struggling—the phonograph's lyrics lured her into a daze.

Another needle pierced her skull; her body convulsed, eyes rolling back, as if her brain matter were being sucked out.

Li Banfeng sighed inwardly: Thank goodness I'm upright, and my home is upright.

If this were any other house—blood everywhere, corpses piled high, an old hag having her brain sucked out—it would be a demon's den.

"Lady, leave her alive—I have questions for her."

The phonograph replied: "Husband, ask quickly. Hong Ying, stay alert—her cultivation isn't on the ground."

Hong Ying said: "If she's not on the ground, kill her now—don't cause trouble!"

"Bitch, who asked you to speak? When my husband asks questions, you obey!"

Not on the ground?

Then she's on the clouds.

Li Banfeng asked: "Are you a Land God?"

The Mountain-Pulling Master refused to speak—the needle instantly heated; she shuddered, then finally spoke: "I am the Land God of the eastern territory—Mountain-Pulling Master."

"Meng Yu's neighbor?"

"Yes."

"Why kill her?"

"I wanted her Covenant. If she didn't resist or retaliate, I wouldn't kill her."

"What use is her Covenant?" Li Banfeng had always wanted to know—how valuable was a Covenant to a Land God?

"Take her Covenant, go to Neizhou, and you'll gain a hundred years of life."

Li Banfeng froze: "Is that a promise from Neizhou?"

"It's not a promise—it's a rule. All Land Gods know it."

Li Banfeng was stunned into silence.

Could Neizhou really enforce such a rule?

Now he recalled—Shui Yongquan had truly been righteous. Back then, he could've taken Qiu Luoye's Covenant—but didn't.

"What happens if a Land God loses their Covenant?"

"They lose their rank."

"And if they lose their rank?"

"They lose cultivation. In days or weeks, or at most one or two years, a Land God without a Covenant drops from the clouds to the ground."

Dropping from the clouds to the ground—was that like a failed advancement?

"So they become Injury Demons?"

"They don't become Injury Demons. Losing cultivation is a massive wound. Those with deep roots may retain some spiritual essence and limp along; those with shallow roots vanish completely."

No wonder Land Gods fight to the death over their Covenants—the cost is too great.

Li Banfeng asked the Mountain-Pulling Master: "For a hundred years of life, you'd risk everything?"

"I had no choice. I'm four hundred eighty years old—among Land Gods, I'm already long-lived."

"On the cloud tier, no one lives beyond five hundred. If I don't find a way to extend my life, I won't last more than a few years."

The phonograph added: "Husband, she's not lying. Neizhou does have this rule."

The Lady mentioned Neizhou—Li Banfeng shuddered, fearing she'd lose control again.

But today, the Lady was perfectly calm.

It seems she's recovered considerably.

All that feeding these days wasn't wasted!

Li Banfeng continued: "Why target Meng Yuchun specifically?"

"She's a homebound cultivator, lacks experience, and has only just become a local deity—she doesn't even know most of the rules. She's the easiest to manage among all the nearby local deities."

None of the other local deities here have ever encountered a pioneer settler. Everyone's lost hope—except her. Luck struck: within less than a year, she met a pioneer settler."

The other local deities envy her. If I kill her, no one will blame me. If I don't kill her, someone else will—sooner or later."

So this is how local deities treat each other?

"Were the wandering spirits—Fengquweng, Tianbiti, Dao Bi Li, and Xi Zhao Fu—all hired by you?"

"Yes."

"What did you pay them with?"

"Cultivation base—cultivation from the land itself."

"Where did you get that cultivation?"

The old woman's expression grew distant; she mumbled for a long time, unable to explain clearly.

Changji said: "Master, the newly formed land generates cultivation. The local deity's covenant can gather this cultivation and use it to reward underling spirits. If you pay enough, you can even bribe wandering spirits."

"But hiring so many wandering spirits at once—this old woman must have emptied her coffers. After this, she'll have no leverage left to control any spirits on the land."

The old woman murmured softly: "Can't help it… can't help it… I want to live…"

Li Banfeng hadn't heard the Boshan Master's words—he was lost in thoughts about cultivation.

Changji said: "Master, ask quickly. This one can't be kept alive long."

Li Banfeng hurriedly asked: "Where is your covenant?"

"At my residence."

That's obvious!

"Where is your residence?"

The Boshan Master gasped: "You want my covenant? Spare my life—I'll take you to get it."

The needle heated again. Niangzi warned the Boshan Master: "Don't talk so much. Answer what you're asked."

Unable to endure the torment, the Boshan Master confessed: "Go to Xi Zhao Fu—she knows where I live."

"Good, good!" Li Banfeng nodded, signaling Niangzi to act.

The needle suddenly lengthened, piercing straight through the Boshan Master's head and into the ground.

As the Boshan Master convulsed, he whispered: "I want to live… let me live…"

After a long murmur, the Boshan Master fell silent—his soul had been devoured by Niangzi.

Steam puffed out in bursts. Changji sang slowly: "Master, even if you brought me phoenix liver and dragon marrow today, I couldn't eat another bite."

Li Banfeng smiled: "Niangzi, rest for a moment. I'll step out for a bit—I'll be back soon."

"Hey, Master, you're not going to look for that old woman's covenant, are you?"

Li Banfeng sniffed and said: "Just curious. I want to take a look."

"Hey, Master, you're not thinking about the cultivation inside that covenant, are you?"

Li Banfeng grinned innocently: "More cultivation can't hurt. You said yourself—all the land's cultivation is stored in the covenant."

"Hey, Master, your cultivation comes from me. Why go looking for the covenant?"

Li Banfeng wiped sweat: "I don't need it—I can give it to you!"

"Hey, Master, I don't use that kind of cultivation. The land's cultivation is different from proper cultivation."

"You've seen Suo E Fu Ren. Do you want to turn into her?"

Li Banfeng froze: "Using the land's cultivation turns you into Suo E Fu Ren?"

"Not exactly. Suo E Fu Ren became that way through rigorous cultivation. What a homebound cultivator turns into is uncertain. Some land spirits are human, others closely related to humans—they only became like that after absorbing the land's cultivation. Master, think carefully: do you really want to become like that?"

Li Banfeng pressed his lips: "Changing form isn't such a big deal."

Hongying held up a mirror before Li Banfeng: "Look at yourself now. If you turn into a monster, won't you hate yourself?"

As a long spear, you still stare into mirrors every day—you don't mind yourself. Why should I care?

"I don't mind. But do you mind me?"

"Hey, Master, I don't mind either. If you want to go, go."

"Good. I'm off." Li Banfeng crouched down and opened the chest.

"Hey, Master, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to oil the machine."

Changji trembled violently: "Master! I'm only warning you out of kindness! Why are you oiling it?"

The record player trembled: "My dear, your humble servant meant well by warning you—why are you oiling the machine?"

Li Banfeng had already pried open the back cover.

Changji trembled even more: "Master! I've eaten so much today—you can't get the wrong spot! Master, be careful! Look… carefully… no, no, not there! Master, not there~"

"Master, Master… that local deity's covenant… it has other uses… don't rush… listen to me… let me explain slowly~"

PS: What other use could the covenant possibly have!

(End of Chapter)

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