Chapter 322: Counting Ink, Seeking Lines

At dawn, Li Banfeng packed the projector and prepared to leave.

The projector, resting beside the bed, spoke dejectedly: "Seventh Director, pick someone else. My art has withered away."

In the battle against the Mountain-Pulling Master, the projector played the decisive role among the magic treasures.

Li Banfeng used the projector to rearrange the cave's layout, luring a host of aberrations into the Portable Dwelling, securing a feast for his entire family.

But the projector missed that feast.

Li Banfeng had forgotten him.

The projector had stayed behind in the cave, eating not a single scrap of meat.

By the time they returned to the Portable Dwelling, Honglian had already cleaned everything—no drop of blood remained.

Since then, the projector's mood had turned deeply negative.

After Li Banfeng left, the projector remained beside the bed, silently staring into space.

The glove walked over and offered comfort: "Little brother, don't keep looking like this—I feel bad just watching. Let's find a place and talk."

The projector's tone was flat: "My art has turned to ash. I have nothing to discuss with you."

"Look at yourself—where's the manly spirit? Come with me. Get it all out—you'll feel lighter."

After much coaxing, the glove persuaded the projector to the third chamber.

Closing the door, the glove lowered his voice: "Brother, don't say I never looked out for you."

Then he spat out a piece of flesh: "This is the flesh of the Earth God—the Mountain-Pulling Master's flesh. Take a bite. See how it tastes."

The projector trembled, its lens fogging with mist: "Brother Glove, how can I ever thank you…"

"Don't mention it—just eat!" The glove was magnanimous.

The projector summoned a woman and placed the flesh inside the film compartment.

Many days had passed, yet the flesh remained fresh—no one knew how the glove had preserved it.

The Earth God's flesh was truly superior: though the projector had less than half its wind-up springs left, it now felt brimming with strength, its cultivation base rising rapidly.

"Brother Glove, thank you."

"Don't be so formal," the glove waved a finger. "We all work our tails off for the Master. Life's hard enough. Sometimes he overlooks us—we've got to look out for each other."

"Brother Glove, this flesh is so precious—how can I repay you?"

"Repayment isn't needed. I've got some honest words for you."

"We live under the same roof, all serving the Master. I'm not greedy—I give him what's due, and keeping a little for myself is only natural."

"Sometimes I hide things—don't keep recording them. It makes the Master uneasy, and I can't explain it to him. Some things shouldn't reach his ears."

…

Li Banfeng went to Dongping Tea House and found Qin Xiaopang to inquire about Ling Family Film.

Qin Xiaopang said: "Ling Family Film hasn't shut down. We in the Silver Seal checked—besides Blood Blade Detective, they're shooting two other films. Everyone's swamped."

"Ling Miaoying is dead—who's running Ling Family Film now?"

"From what I've heard, there are two possibilities—hard to say which is true."

"One: Ling Miaoying's still alive. She faked her death and staged a duet with Lu Chunying."

This rumor clearly originated from Lu Maoxian—it justified his actions against Blood Blade Detective and smeared Lu Chunying's reputation.

"Two: Ling Family has a powerful backer—possibly the Shadow Empress Tu Yinghong."

"Tu Yinghong…" At the name, Li Banfeng recalled the ambush he'd suffered.

He'd first used the Whirlwind Gaze to incapacitate Ling Miaoying, then shot Tu Yinghong—without the Portable Dwelling, he'd barely survived by seizing the initiative.

Could the black-clad attacker from Xiaoyao Wu still be Tu Yinghong?

"Do you know Tu Yinghong's background?"

Qin Xiaopang said: "We're still investigating. Originally, they said Tu Yinghong worked as a courtesan in Lüshui City, then pleased Ling Miaoying and became the Shadow Empress."

"Now we know that's nonsense—Tu Yinghong isn't from Lüshui City. She's from Heishipo. She's a Wu Xiu. Who served whom between her and Ling Miaoying? Still unclear."

"Brother, we need to settle this fast."

"Seventh Brother, as soon as I hear anything—" Xiao Pang's voice trailed off—he was hungry again.

Li Banfeng looked at Xiao Pang's figure—he was nearly as broad as Qiu Zhiheng.

"Didn't I tell you? If you're short on cash, come to me. Don't starve yourself. Last time I asked you about qualifications—what did your Silver Seal say?"

"Seventh Brother, our Silver Seal's a straight shooter. He said I'm a blank copper seal—converting to a full copper seal makes sense. But he needs money to grease the wheels. The sum's large—I didn't dare ask you."

Li Banfeng set down his teacup: "You're delaying things. How much?"

Xiao Pang held up one finger: "A thousand silver dollars."

"I'll cover it. Go to Xiaoyao Wu this afternoon and draw fifteen hundred. Pick a good location."

Qin Xiaopang bowed repeatedly in thanks. Li Banfeng returned to Xiaoyao Wu.

Qiu Zhiheng had said the attacker was a high-ranking Wu Xiu with an invisibility artifact.

San Yingmen had investigated Tu Yinghong—she was indeed a Wu Xiu.

Along this journey, Li Banfeng had become certain: the black-clad attacker that day was Tu Yinghong.

Was she here to avenge Ling Miaoying?

He couldn't wait for her to come to him—he had to lure her out.

Li Banfeng entered the Portable Dwelling and projected Ling Miaoying's image.

Huh!

The phonograph asked: "Husband, this person's already been turned into an elixir—why bring him out again?"

"As bait. His lover's come for revenge. I want to draw her out."

"This film looks exactly like the real person—hard to tell apart. But if she's truly his lover, wouldn't she know the projector well?"

Li Banfeng turned to the projector.

The projector's mood had lifted; he replied solemnly: "I know Tu Yinghong well—her movements, her tactics, her attacks and defenses—I've filmed them all. Unfortunately, those reels aren't with me."

Li Banfeng had feared this—Tu Yinghong knew the projector intimately. She'd likely see through the ruse.

But the phonograph had a strategy: "Husband, bait doesn't have to catch fish—it can catch shrimp too."

Li Banfeng understood his wife's meaning: Ling Miaoying's image could lure others—but he wanted Tu Yinghong.

"Wife, I don't want shrimp. I want the fish."

"Shrimp eat the bait and carry its scent to the fish. The bait won't fool the enemy's commander—but it might fool his spy."

Li Banfeng laughed, hugging the phonograph affectionately: "My wife truly knows warfare!"

…

Lu Maoxian stepped out of Mingzhu Bookhouse. The bookhouse attendant bowed, praising: "Old Master, your learning is profound—I've learned much tonight."

In translation: Lu Maoxian had demonstrated a new technique last night.

Lu Maoxian nodded with a smile: "You're a diligent student—reading by candlelight till dawn, never complaining of fatigue."

The attendant blushed: "I did complain—but I didn't find it painful."

Lu Maoxian touched the attendant's cheek: "You're excellent in every way—but candlelight reading requires good candles. Yours are of poor quality."

The attendant quickly noted the remark. Lu Maoxian was the most important regular at Mingzhu Bookhouse—every demand had to be honored.

Outside the bookhouse waited thirty-three branch guards.

Was it appropriate for Lu Maoxian to bring so many?

In the past, he'd brought at most two. He never wanted such a spectacle.

But after his clash with Ling Miaoying, Lu Maoxian had changed.

In the theater, Ling Miaoying had shown that film—damaging Lu Maoxian's reputation. So what? The Lu family still said the old master was vigorous as ever.

The hand Ling Miaoying had severed still hadn't been properly treated—that was what truly tormented him.

With the film matter still unsettled, heightened vigilance was urgent.

Lu Maoxian rode in a carriage, his branch guards surrounding him on all sides.

Deep night. The streets were empty. One street from his estate, one guard suddenly clutched his neck and collapsed—blood seeped between his fingers.

Another guard stepped forward to check—his head fell to the ground as he knelt.

Lu Maoxian sensed danger and cried: "The noble heart is open and clear!"

He invoked the Shared Doctrine Technique, hoping to force his foe to reveal himself and fight honorably.

But the technique failed. One by one, his guards fell—thirty-three vanished in an instant, leaving only two.

These two stood left and right beside the carriage, pretending to protect Lu Maoxian—actually guarding their own lives.

They knew clearly: stay still, live. Move, die.

Lu Maoxian drew his brush and wrote a single character on the carriage: "Prohibited!"

A barrier formed around the carriage.

As Lu Maoxian pondered his next move, a voice whispered in his ear: "Nothing is forbidden."

Boom!

The barrier shattered!

Was the foe using Word Made Real?

Was he a Wen Xiu?

No matter his sect, escape opportunities were dwindling.

Lu Maoxian flicked his brush, flinging ink into the air. Dozens of characters materialized in a ten-meter radius—writhing, clawing, like black demons that attacked any living thing they touched.

Wen Xiu technique: Counting Ink, Seeking Lines.

Cultivators of the Literary Dao are not skilled in close combat; once an enemy closes in, the Technique of Counting Ink and Seeking Lines is the best escape method.

Within the technique's range, the ink-formed characters gain sentience and fight like living beings.

These characters can convey meaning and form, possessing extraordinary combat power, but their only flaw is that they attack friend and foe alike.

A single character " Da " stretched its arms wide, seized a Zhi-Gua, and tore at him relentlessly.

A single character " Xiang " transformed into a tusked elephant, smashing into another Zhi-Gua and toppling him.

A single character " Chong " split into three " Chong " characters, each of which further multiplied into swarms of flies fluttering in all directions.

These characters even attacked Lu Mao, but Lu Mao found paths through the strokes and lines.

He quickly burst out of the technique's range and sprinted toward the mansion.

He ran at an astonishing speed—far faster than usual.

The Technique of Counting Ink and Seeking Lines lasted only a few seconds before dissipating, but by then Lu Mao had reached the mansion's gate.

How did he run so fast?

It's as if he shed some burden.

Lu Mao looked down and realized he truly had lost something.

Blood seeped through his pants; Lu Mao collapsed at the gate, and only now did he feel profound despair and pain.

The old man who once thrived in vigor no longer existed.

He Jiaqing, disguised as a middle-aged man, walked up to Lu Mao and smiled: "Old Master Lu, congratulations—you've finally rid yourself of that troublesome root."

Lu Mao dared not resist, clutching his vital area and biting his tongue in silence.

He Jiaqing did not kill him; he rose and left alone. At the street corner, he spotted a beggar dozing off.

He Jiaqing's heart tightened as he carefully sensed his surroundings.

Is this Lüshui City—or the beggar's lair?

The beggar opened one eye, glanced at He Jiaqing, then closed it again.

What does this mean? You don't want to fight me?

Is the Lüshui Beggar trying to make peace?

…

Major newspapers reported the news: Lu Mao was attacked again, severely wounded, and the attacker's identity remained mysterious.

He Jiaqing put down the newspaper and told Wan Jinxian: "You're the most reliable. Remember—before you uncover his secrets, don't kill Lu Mao."

Wan Jinxian nodded repeatedly.

That day, He Jiaqing visited several cinemas. The movie "Blood Blade Detective" had strong attendance—most theaters hovered around seventy percent, and He Jiaqing was very satisfied.

During the film's intermission, he slipped silently into the projection room. The projectionist was chatting idly and didn't notice He Jiaqing at all.

He Jiaqing tore off a single frame of film and took it to the cinema's private booth.

From his pocket, he pulled out a dropper and let one drop of medicine fall onto the film.

A silver ring appeared on the film's surface.

He Jiaqing pressed the ring to his forehead; his body trembled for a moment.

"Not bad quality!" He Jiaqing exclaimed, then rubbed his fingers together to summon a flame and burned the film.

The next noon, He Jiaqing set off for Yuezhou; Wan Jinxian saw him off at the station.

Before leaving, He Jiaqing repeatedly warned: "Watch Tu Yinghong. Don't let her leave the building."

After returning from the station, Wan Jinxian entered Tu Yinghong's room.

Tu Yinghong was organizing her weapons and said to Wan Jinxian: "Don't you know to knock before entering?"

Wan Jinxian said: "One of my men saw Ling Miaoying."

"Where?"

"At Xiaoyao Wu. We saw her once yesterday, and again today. Do you want to meet him?"

PS: What is Wan Jinxian planning?

(End of Chapter)