Chapter 33: I

Qin Xiaopang opened his eyes and could still hear the sounds of fighting.

He turned his head and saw Laoyanpao still battling Jin Si Yanjing, his body covered in bloody cuts.

Laoyanpao’s movements were sluggish; behind him, Hu Gaotzi waited for an opening.

No good—I have to help him quickly; Laoyanpao can’t hold out much longer.

Qin Xiaopang picked up his axe and started to rise, when suddenly Jin Si Yanjing circled behind Laoyanpao and grabbed his hair.

Laoyanpao’s head was yanked up; Hu Gaotzi stepped forward and slit his throat with a dagger.

Blood gushed out; Laoyanpao’s body went limp and collapsed to the ground.

Hu Gaotzi stared at the blood and laughed excitedly, his laughter interrupted by fits of coughing.

He had been poisoned by the mist and also ingested Laoyanpao’s smoke toxin; his condition was far from good.

But Jin Si Yanjing’s condition was excellent.

As a Poison Cultivator, he had strong resistance to poison mist.

Of course, that didn’t mean he could stay on Kuwu Mountain indefinitely—his current cultivation base couldn’t withstand prolonged exposure to the poison mist.

But a single day was not long enough to affect him significantly.

He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the blood from his hands, then walked over to Qin Xiaopang.

“You heard what I said earlier—I hate talking to fools, won’t waste a single word on them.

Compared to that old man, you’re not a fool—you’re still young, not so stubborn.

Give me all the flowers, and I’ll let you go.”

“No!” Xiaopang clutched his pocket tightly.

“Why are you doing this?” Hu Gaotzi laughed. “I counted for you—you picked only twenty flowers. Sell them down the mountain, you’ll get a thousand yuan at most. Is your life worth just over a thousand yuan?”

“I won’t give them to you!” Xiaopang gripped his axe—he knew his life was worth far more than a thousand yuan, but he wouldn’t let anyone take what was his so easily.

“You’re asking for it!” Hu Gaotzi stepped forward and kicked Xiaopang in the chest.

Xiaopang was ready this time—he blocked the kick with the axe handle and swung back, chopping at Hu Gaotzi.

Hu Gaotzi dodged the axe, but barely—he wasn’t a match for Xiaopang in one-on-one combat after being poisoned by the smoke.

But he didn’t need to fight alone—he had Jin Si Yanjing beside him.

Jin Si Yanjing walked up to Qin Xiaopang and fanned himself slowly. “Brother, I’ll give you one piece of advice—leave the flowers and go down the mountain.”

“Dream on!” Xiaopang spat. “I actually believed you—you bastard’s so ruthless. You’ve been lying to me the whole time!”

“Ruthless?” Jin Si Yanjing shook his head. “I think I’ve been quite straightforward.”

“Bullshit!” Xiaopang spat again. “I’m cursed to have met you!”

“It’s not bad luck—you’d have met someone else if not me,” Jin Si Yanjing smiled. “You brought a huge axe—you’re clearly new to the mountain. Since you left the inn, plenty of people have been watching you.”

Xiaopang froze—he remembered Feng the shopkeeper at the general store.

No wonder he said not to bring the Green Dragon Blade up the mountain.

Jin Si Yanjing continued: “I know you feel cheated—you fought all day, picked twenty flowers, and now they’re gone. Anyone would feel crushed.

But think—do these twenty flowers really belong to you? Are you even worthy?

You’ve never been to Kuwu Mountain before, yet you came to make money. Do you have the right?

You know nothing—you don’t know the paths, the rules, you don’t even know what Snake-Spotted Chrysanthemums look like.

I taught you so much: next time you come, you’ll know where to pick, what kind to pick, how much you can gather, how much you can carry, who to trust and who to avoid.

You learned all that and kept your life—for just over a thousand yuan. Don’t you think it’s worth it?”

Hearing this, Xiaopang pulled a dried ration from his pocket and shoved it into his mouth.

It was his last ration—and his last asset.

No matter what they said, Xiaopang would never hand over the Snake-Spotted Chrysanthemums.

Jin Si Yanjing was disappointed—he had hoped Xiaopang would surrender, so he could kill him easily.

But since Xiaopang refused to yield, he’d have to change tactics.

“Young brother, I’ll give you five minutes to think it over.” Jin Si Yanjing opened his fan and began fanning slowly—the fragrance within the fan began to seep out through hidden mechanisms in the ribs.

The scent drifted out, but Xiaopang didn’t notice—he didn’t know Jin Si Yanjing was a Poison Cultivator.

When Laoyanpao realized Jin Si Yanjing was a Poison Cultivator, Xiaopang had already passed out.

“I still say it: talking to fools wastes energy. I believe you’re not one.” Jin Si Yanjing kept releasing poison when he saw someone running from afar.

“Brother Xiaopang, friends—I found a great spot! Lots of Snake-Spotted Chrysanthemums there!”

Xiaopang turned and saw Li Banfeng running toward them.

Jin Si Yanjing froze, stepped back two paces; Hu Gaotzi immediately raised his dagger.

How did he come back? Didn’t he go down the mountain?

Li Banfeng rushed up to Xiaopang. “We hit the jackpot! Just ahead, there’s a patch of bamboo—underneath it, all Snake-Spotted Chrysanthemums. Come quick!”

Xiaopang grabbed Li Banfeng. “Brother, something’s happened.”

“What happened?”

“Laoyanpao’s dead.”

“Dead? How?”

“They killed him!” Xiaopang pointed to the corpse.

Li Banfeng saw the blood-soaked ground and Laoyanpao’s body—his legs went weak.

“W-what’s going on? W-what are you doing? Weren’t we partners? Weren’t we supposed to watch out for each other?” Li Banfeng stammered, terrified.

Qin Xiaopang pulled Li Banfeng. “Brother, no use talking now—they wanted to rob us from the start. We fight them!”

“Fight… fight…” Li Banfeng trembled all over.

Hu Gaotzi laughed. “Big brother, you warned me to watch this guy—look what kind of trash he is.”

Jin Si Yanjing sighed. “I misjudged you. You’re Bai Sha, right? You found a good spot?”

“I—I saw it…” Li Banfeng’s eyes welled up.

“Really saw it?”

“Really—I’m not lying.” Li Banfeng unslung his satchel—it bulged heavily. “All these are from there.”

Jin Si Yanjing smiled. “You’ve done well. Stay here for now—you’ll lead us there.”

“Y-yes, yes…” Li Banfeng stood frozen.

Hu Gaotzi kicked Li Banfeng. “Didn’t you hear? Squat down!”

Li Banfeng immediately squatted on the ground.

Jin Si Yanjing smiled at Qin Xiaopang. “What now? Your friend’s useless.”

“You coward!” Xiaopang saw Li Banfeng crouching, wiping tears—he knew this man wouldn’t help. He gripped his axe, ready to fight Jin Si Yanjing to the death.

Hu Gaotzi rolled up his sleeves, preparing to join Jin Si Yanjing in killing Xiaopang.

Li Banfeng still sobbed on the ground. “Weren’t we partners? We promised to watch out for each other—why kill? Why must you kill?”

Whoosh!

Hu Gaotzi suddenly felt a chill at his ankle—before he felt pain, warm liquid flowed from it.

He was bleeding—someone had cut him.

The cut was deep—seemed to sever his Achilles tendon; his foot couldn’t move.

Hu Gaotzi looked down at Li Banfeng—Li Banfeng was still crouching, wiping tears.

“You just want the Snake-Spotted Chrysanthemums, right? There’s plenty over there—I’ll give them all to you. Just don’t kill me.”

Saying this, Li Banfeng pulled out his satchel, as if to hand it to Jin Si Yanjing.

Jin Si Yanjing blinked—then suddenly saw Li Banfeng hurl the satchel at him.

The satchel wasn’t aimed at his hands—it was aimed straight at his head.

Within five meters, he never missed.

As the cloth bag flew toward his face, Jin Si Yanjing raised a hand to block it—the opening was wide open; the entire contents—vomit—splattered across his face.

Sour. Sticky.

Jin Si Yanjing couldn’t open his eyes.

“I gave you the flowers—please spare me!” Li Banfeng cried as he rose, revealing a small sickle hidden in his sleeve—he slashed Hu Gaotzi’s throat.

Hu Gaotzi made no reaction.

The Traveler cultivator moved fast.

As a Homebound cultivator, Li Banfeng was easily overlooked.

He had just left his residence—his combat power was at its peak.

Plus, the poison mist on Kuwu Mountain had mostly dissipated—Li Banfeng’s physical condition far surpassed Hu Gaotzi’s.

Most crucially, Li Banfeng’s mental state was incomprehensible to Hu Gaotzi.

Not just Hu Gaotzi—even Qin Xiaopang couldn’t understand it.

He was crying. He was begging.

He was swinging his blade. He was killing.

His actions defied normal human logic.

Hu Gaotzi clutched his throat and collapsed.

Jin Si Yanjing had just wiped the vomit from his eyes and hadn’t yet realized what happened—when suddenly, darkness engulfed him.

Li Banfeng had thrown the satchel over Jin Si Yanjing’s head.

“I beg you, don’t kill me! I’ll give you all the flowers!” Li Banfeng cried bitterly, swinging the sickle by instinct.

“Let go! I won’t kill you—I truly won’t!”

The gold-rimmed glasses struggled desperately, but Li Banfeng gripped the sack tightly; the sack covered the man’s head, and he couldn’t break free.

“I’m giving you the flowers, don’t kill me!” Li Banfeng kept crying as the sickle came down, piercing through the sack and hooking into the gold-rimmed glasses’ skull.

“I won’t kill you, I swear I won’t!” The gold-rimmed glasses couldn’t escape; his brain was damaged, and his limbs began to spasm uncontrollably.

Li Banfeng yanked the sickle out hard and drove it back in: “I told you I’d give you the flowers—why are you still trying to kill me?”

“I never meant to kill you! I absolutely won’t!” The gold-rimmed glasses screamed with all his strength.

What exactly had happened?

The gold-rimmed glasses couldn’t figure it out.

His severely injured brain had lost the ability to think.

“Do you really have to kill me?” Li Banfeng kept crying, but the sickle didn’t stop—again and again it plunged into and pulled out of the gold-rimmed glasses’ skull.

“I really didn’t mean to kill you!” The gold-rimmed glasses’ voice cracked.

“Can’t you just not kill me?” Pfft! The sickle drove into the gold-rimmed glasses’ skull once more.

“I swear I won’t kill you!”

“I beg you, don’t kill me!” Crack! Li Banfeng pulled the sickle out, still sobbing.

“I, I...” The gold-rimmed glasses could no longer speak.

The gold-rimmed glasses tried to raise his fan; it hung midair, trembling without rhythm.

Li Banfeng had driven the sickle into the gold-rimmed glasses’ skull six times.

Red stained the sack.

White oozed out of the sack.

The gold-rimmed glasses convulsed all over.

Li Banfeng sniffled: “I’m so scared—why did you all have to kill me?”

Qin Xiaopang stared, dumbfounded, not knowing what to say.

Li Banfeng’s frame was thin—he didn’t look like someone who could fight.

Even Old Chen from the Dark Star Bureau couldn’t understand how Li Banfeng could have won against five opponents, let alone left them all severely wounded.

If he had seen this scene, he might have understood.

Watching Li Banfeng strike again and again until he pried open the gold-rimmed glasses’ cranial cap, Qin Xiaopang hurriedly said: “Brother Li, he seems dead already.”

“Dead?” Li Banfeng blinked, stopped crying, his expression returned to normal, his voice steady.

As if nothing had just happened.

He looked at Qin Xiaopang and said seriously: “You know, brother, I was terrified just now.”

He said he was terrified.

He said it with absolute seriousness—he was terrified.

Qin Xiaopang felt dazed and asked cautiously: “Brother Li, are you insane?”

Li Banfeng shook his head firmly: “Not insane. I went to the hospital—the doctor said I’m not insane.”

PS: Banfeng was terrified—everyone, please comfort Banfeng.

(End of Chapter)