Chapter 324: I Love My Patriarch

"Five Master, the warehouse is on fire!"

Ma Wu had just returned from Heishi Slope and slept less than an hour before Zhen Jincheng woke him up.

Pulling on his clothes and stepping out of bed, Ma Wu sighed: "Those warehouses are useless—I've wanted to tear them down for ages, but never got around to it. Now this happens!"

Huo Ling rubbed her eyes: "It's just a fire, what's the big deal? I'll help you put it out."

"You stay back—you'll only make things worse!"

Ma Wu went to the warehouse and directed everyone to fight the fire.

The warehouses were piled high with old tar paper, and once ignited, the flames were hard to control; everyone scrambled in chaos. Ma Wu feared the fire would spread to Xiaoyao Wu and grew frantic—until a middle-aged man stepped beside him and said: "Tell Li Qi to meet me at Yuelai Restaurant tomorrow night at seven. Arrive late, and you're dead."

"Who are you?" Ma Wu froze, turned his head—and the man was gone.

What did he mean by that?

The fire grew fiercer; Ma Wu had no time to dwell on the man and kept fighting the blaze.

At dawn, the fire was finally extinguished—half the warehouses were burned.

Exhausted, Ma Wu collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep.

Once he lay down, Ma Wu could not rise again.

First, his whole body turned icy cold, trembling uncontrollably.

Then, he burned up—Huo Ling's hand felt searing hot when she touched him.

"He's fallen ill from exhaustion—quick, call a doctor!"

…

Li Banfeng hid in Suishenju until noon.

Tu Yinghong had come with a determination to fight to the death.

Could she and Ling Miaoying really be that close?

Was there something else going on?

We won this battle thanks to thorough preparation.

But after winning, Li Banfeng sensed danger.

Why?

It means Tu Yinghong brought reinforcements.

If she had reinforcements, why didn't she use them earlier?

Could these reinforcements threaten Xiaoyao Wu?

Xiaoyao Wu had Zuo Wugang, Huo Ling, and many experts on guard—but Li Banfeng still couldn't relax. He ate a quick meal and returned to Xiaoyao Wu.

As soon as he entered, he saw Zuo Wugang frantically shouting for people.

"What happened?"

Zuo Wugang panicked: "Seventh Master, you're back! Five Master is dying!"

"What do you mean, dying?"

"Last night, the warehouse caught fire. Five Master led us to fight it—he must've collapsed from exhaustion and can't get up now!"

Li Banfeng rushed to see Ma Wu.

Ma Wu recognized Li Banfeng and regained some clarity.

He remembered the middle-aged man's words from last night.

"Tell Li Qi to meet me at Yuelai Restaurant tomorrow night at seven. Arrive late, and you're dead."

"Old Seven," Ma Wu gripped Li Banfeng's arm, "I—I last night..."

He gasped for breath, then fell silent.

He couldn't say it.

The man told Old Seven to go to Yuelai Restaurant.

Yuelai Restaurant must be a trap.

If Old Seven went, he'd be in trouble.

He must not go—going would mean death.

Ma Wu shook his head and closed his eyes.

Li Banfeng touched Ma Wu's forehead, then shouted to the others: "Where's the doctor? Get a doctor!"

Zuo Wugang said: "We've called over a dozen doctors—none helped!"

"Get the best physicians! Bring the top doctors!"

Zuo Wugang stayed silent—he had already summoned the best.

"Go again! Hurry! Bring every doctor in the city!"

Cao Zhida ran into the room: "Seventh Master, there's a new hospital in town—they say they're skilled, specialize in hard cases."

"Why are you standing there? Go get them!"

"I went—they won't make house calls! Their hospital's too proud!"

Zuo Wugang said: "Prepare the carriage—we'll take Five Master there."

"What the hell are you talking about, preparing a carriage!"

Li Banfeng asked for the address, picked up Ma Wu on his back, and dashed out of Xiaoyao Wu.

On the road, Ma Wu gasped: "Old Seven, I've been dead since the day I should've died in Lanyang Village—

I've lived this long only because of you. I've had my due."

"What do you mean, 'had your due'? We're barely halfway!"

"Old Seven, put me down—this illness might be contagious."

"Stop talking nonsense. Close your eyes and rest."

"Old Seven, everything we've built—I leave it all to you. Don't abandon it. This is our blood and sweat..."

"The hospital's here—we're almost there!"

Li Banfeng burst into the hospital. The hospital's name was unusual: Wu Jie.

The hospital was small, but crowded. Li Banfeng rushed toward the ward with Ma Wu on his back. A nurse stepped forward to block him: "What are you doing? You need to register first!"

"This is an emergency."

"Even emergencies require registration."

"Please treat him first—I'll register right away!"

The nurse glanced at Ma Wu: "Is he even alive? I don't think registration's needed."

Li Banfeng looked up at the nurse: "What did you just say?"

The nurse trembled violently. A man stepped forward from behind her.

The nurse immediately hid behind the man, pointing at Li Banfeng: "Director, this man's causing trouble!"

The man called Director wore a white cap and mask, revealing only his eyes.

Li Banfeng said: "You're the director? Please treat him first—I'll register immediately."

"Li Qi?" The director pulled down his mask.

Li Banfeng froze—he recognized the man.

"Cui Ti? You're the director here?"

The foreigner Cui Ti—a Bing Xiu.

Since their parting at Haichiling, they had never met again.

Cui Ti nodded: "This hospital is mine. I've devoted my entire career to Puluozhou—I love Puluozhou."

Whether he truly loved Puluozhou, Li Banfeng didn't know.

A Bing Xiu running a hospital? That was absurd.

Could this hospital even work?

Cui Ti glanced at Ma Wu, then ordered the nurse: "Prepare for emergency treatment immediately."

Li Banfeng carried Ma Wu into the emergency room. Cui Ti said: "Wait outside."

Li Banfeng quickly stepped out. As the nurse moved to prepare instruments, Cui Ti said: "You too—leave."

"Me?"

"Out!"

The nurse bowed her head and left the emergency room, avoiding Li Banfeng entirely, slinking down the corridor.

Only Ma Wu and Cui Ti remained inside the emergency room.

Cui Ti stared at Ma Wu for a moment, then nodded: "The scent of a fellow disciple—different indeed."

…

Half an hour later, Cui Ti stepped out of the emergency room and nodded to Li Banfeng.

Li Banfeng entered the room and saw Ma Wu lying peacefully on the bed—his fever gone, his breathing steady, deeply asleep.

Cui Ti said: "Let your friend rest here for a while—he can be discharged tomorrow."

Li Banfeng never accepted favors without payment: "What should I give you in return?"

Cui Ti smiled: "Publicly, this is a hospital—curing the sick is my duty. Privately, you helped me at Haichiling—I'm repaying a debt."

Cui Ti arranged for Ma Wu to be moved to a ward, and Li Banfeng stayed to watch over him.

Who attacked Ma Wu?

Judging by timing, it must be connected to Tu Yinghong.

He could make Ma Wu sick, and no one else could cure it—only Cui Ti could. It seemed this man was also a Disease Cultivator.

……

Wan Jinxian had booked the Yuelai Tower, waiting for Li Qi to come to him.

When seven o'clock came, Li Qi didn't show. Wan Jinxian contacted the spy from Xiaoyao Wu.

He took Ma Junyang to the hospital.

What good is that?

What hospital can cure him?

Wan Jinxian waited another half hour, still no Li Qi.

He grew suspicious and decided to go check the hospital.

Wuji Hospital—he'd never heard of this place before. Wan Jinxian entered the lobby and asked the night nurse: "Which room is Ma Junyang in?"

The nurse looked at Wan Jinxian and said: "Why are you looking for Ma Junyang? Visiting hours are over."

Wan Jinxian smiled gently: "I'm his uncle. I heard my nephew is ill and came all this way. Just let me see him from the doorway."

"Can't you understand basic rules? Rules are rules. Why are you making such a fuss? Get out—" The nurse clutched her chest, suddenly unable to breathe.

Wan Jinxian smiled: "I'll ask you one more time—where is Ma Junyang's room?"

The nurse pointed to Room Six, tears in her eyes, begging Wan Jinxian to spare her.

"Miss, in your next life, learn how to speak properly."

The nurse clutched her throat and fell silent within seconds.

Wan Jinxian walked down the corridor, heading toward Room Six.

The Thread-Ear Earrings sensed movement. Li Banfeng prepared for battle.

Wan Jinxian had taken only two steps when he heard a voice behind him: "Why are you looking for Ma Junyang?"

Wan Jinxian turned and saw a blond, blue-eyed man standing nearby.

A foreigner?

Wan Jinxian said: "I'm here to visit my nephew."

"Visiting hours are over. Come back tomorrow."

Wan Jinxian fell silent for a moment, then smiled: "Why bother? Today is a good day—I didn't plan to kill anyone."

Cui Ti stepped closer to Wan Jinxian and asked seriously: "What do you mean by that?"

Wan Jinxian's eyelid twitched. Suddenly, Cui Ti felt an itch in his nose.

He pulled down his mask, sniffed, trying to hold back a sneeze—but he couldn't.

Wan Jinxian smiled: "It's just a sneeze. No need to hold it in—let it out, it'll feel better."

Cui Ti took a deep breath. Wan Jinxian waited for his eyeballs to pop out.

Achoo!

The sneeze ended. Cui Ti's eyeballs remained in their sockets.

Wan Jinxian froze. He touched his cheek.

His face was covered in blood.

Not Cui Ti's blood—his own.

Cui Ti's sneeze had split open a wound on Wan Jinxian's face.

Wan Jinxian stared at Cui Ti in shock.

Cui Ti stuck out his tongue. A thick, black, viscous sludge writhed upon it.

"This is the disease focus you planted, isn't it?" Cui Ti swallowed the sludge. "Delicious. Last time I tasted something this exquisite was a year ago!"

"You're from the same sect? Impossible…" Wan Jinxian froze, then wiped some blood from his face and flung it at Cui Ti.

Could there really be another Disease Cultivator alive in this world?

Wan Jinxian suddenly remembered someone—the one who had secretly harmed He Jiaqing.

He had once suspected a fellow sect member, but even if there were others, they shouldn't be a foreigner!

Cui Ti began coughing violently—he had reinfected himself with Wan Jinxian's disease focus.

Wan Jinxian moved to strike, but Cui Ti spat out a hard phlegm that struck Wan Jinxian's left shoulder.

The phlegm pierced through flesh and bone, embedding itself in his scapula.

Wan Jinxian staggered back, clutching his shoulder. He activated his disease focus again, plunging Cui Ti into a high fever.

Cui Ti burned red-hot, like a branding iron.

This made it impossible for Wan Jinxian to approach him.

Cui Ti rubbed his chest and let out a burp.

The burp carried flames that immediately set Wan Jinxian's clothes on fire.

Wan Jinxian grew flustered.

Their combat styles were completely different. Cui Ti's tactics made no sense to Wan Jinxian.

Wan Jinxian tried to weaken Cui Ti with disease, then deliver a killing blow—that was the correct method for a Disease Cultivator, as his master had taught him.

But Cui Ti was using his own suffering as a weapon.

Wan Jinxian dared not strike again. Every disease focus he planted seemed to empower his enemy.

What illness could possibly restrain him?

"What sect do you belong to?" Wan Jinxian prepared his killing technique—it would take a moment.

Cui Ti smiled: "You still don't recognize my sect? Brother, I've made it obvious enough."

Wan Jinxian shook his head: "My sect has no brothers or seniors. Each of us is the last disciple. Unless we kill our master, we never graduate."

"Where did you come from? Tell me the truth. This is Lüshui City—my ancestral master's territory. Pretending to be my sect's disciple is an insult to him. Beware—you'll die without a whole corpse!"

Cui Ti shook his head: "I hold my ancestral master in the highest respect. And I don't just say it with words."

As he spoke, Cui Ti unbuttoned his shirt.

On his chest was tattooed five large characters: I LOVE MY ANCESTRAL MASTER.

This was his chance!

Wan Jinxian lunged forward—he was swift, faster than Cui Ti.

All he needed to do was scratch Cui Ti's skin with his nails.

Once blood touched the wound, Cui Ti would be infected, paralyzed within moments, possibly dead.

This foreigner must not be allowed to live.

Disease Cultivators cannot tolerate fellow sect members.

Wan Jinxian struck—he scratched Cui Ti's skin.

Cui Ti's skin broke—but no blood flowed.

Green pus spurted out, splattering across Wan Jinxian's face.

His face prickled with numbness and itchiness. Green blisters sprouted across his skin.

Cui Ti looked at Wan Jinxian and said seriously: "I love my ancestral master—with all my heart. What about you?"

PS: Why can't Disease Cultivators tolerate fellow sect members?

(End of Chapter)