Chapter 349: The Battle of the Golden Sickness

Li Banfeng didn't know why Xiao Genzi was here, and Xiao Genzi didn't know why he had come here either.

The old man held a bucket and stared at the Green Water Beggar.

The Green Water Beggar smiled faintly; hundreds of pus-filled sores on his body erupted, growing until they burst through his skin, each splitting open to reveal a tiny, emerald-green figure the size of a fingertip, flapping wings like angels as they flew toward the old man.

"Good Green Flower, starting right off with lethal moves," the old man said calmly, still teaching Genzi, "Genzi, watch closely—these little things seem slow, but the moment you move, they'll stick to you instantly."

"Unless you have the footwork of a Traveler or a Thief, no Dao sect can dodge them—so we must block them with this technique: Golden Light Like a Waterfall!"

As the tiny figures drew near, the old man dipped a spoon into the bucket, flicked it casually, and a dazzling golden waterfall cascaded from the sky, halting every approaching figure before it.

The Green Flower was startled—the old man had sharp eyes.

He was right: though the little figures moved slowly, they were sentient—if the target dodged or fled, they would suddenly accelerate to chase.

Now that the direct path was blocked by the golden waterfall, the Green Flower manipulated the figures to circle around and attack from the sides.

The old man scooped a small amount from the bucket, swung his wrist wide and open, and flung the broth outward.

The broth turned into countless drops of sweet dew; the old man continued teaching Genzi: "This technique is called Golden Dots!"

Each golden drop moved as if alive, chasing the Green Flower's tiny figures at blistering speed.

Li Banfeng covered his nose and sighed in awe—this was real flight!

When the golden drops struck the tiny figures, they shrieked in agony, oozing green pus; the gold and green merged, and the figures dissolved into thick smoke amid their screams.

The Green Flower was secretly shocked.

These tiny figures, born from his pus, were the essence of his technique.

Could the old man's bucket really contain nothing but crude broth?

And yet they canceled each other out?

The Green Flower overestimated—he hadn't just canceled them out; there were more golden drops than tiny figures, and the remaining golden specks shot like arrows straight for the Green Flower's face.

The Green Flower showed no fear; he grabbed Lin Dexing beside him and used him as a shield, parrying wildly.

The Green Flower's skill was indeed exceptional—not a single golden drop struck him; every one was blocked by Lin Dexing.

But this golden broth wasn't just foul-tasting—it corroded skin down to bone; Lin Dexing's face was pitted with holes, his clothes burned to rags.

The Green Flower tore open his own skin, letting blood and pus seep out, mingling together.

He prepared to unleash another technique, but the old man gave him no chance—the golden waterfall suspended in midair slid horizontally toward him.

This was trouble—nowhere to dodge, no way to block.

The Green Flower grabbed Lin Dexing again, turned him from shield to spear, and with swift parries and thrusts, carved a path through the waterfall, bursting free.

The old man praised: "Fine spearwork, Genzi—watch closely, this man has a Wu Xiu foundation."

As the waterfall neared Yao Lao's house, Pan Dehai grew tense and rushed inside.

Li Banfeng was tense too—this house was newly built.

The old man swung his spoon; the waterfall vanished, transforming into a golden dragon that lunged at the Green Flower.

"Genzi, this is Golden Dragon Emerging from the Mountain!"

The golden dragon surged forward, its entire body glowing with radiant light; any contact could deliver a fatal blow.

The Green Flower indeed had a Wu Xiu foundation; wielding Lin Dexing like a writhing serpent, he clashed with the golden dragon.

The old man dipped his spoon into the bottom of the bucket, scooping up dry matter.

This time he'd go all out; veins bulging, he strained hard: "Genzi, this is Water Submerging Golden Mountain!"

Genzi watched intently but never saw the old man flick the spoon out.

The spoon exerted hidden force within the bucket; simultaneously, the earth trembled.

Beneath the Green Flower's feet, the ground cracked open, golden light flared—and a mountain slowly rose.

This was bad.

The Green Flower tried to leap away, but his feet couldn't gain purchase—the mountain's surface was soft and sticky.

One misstep, and he'd be trapped forever.

Li Banfeng was awestruck.

He realized he had a glaring gap in his cultural knowledge.

Previously, he'd always assumed the key to "Water Submerging Golden Mountain" lay in the word "water."

How had he never considered the key might lie in the word "gold"?

Unable to escape the Golden Mountain, the Green Flower's pus congealed into emerald wings.

The wings flapped, lifting the Green Flower into the air.

Each inch he rose, the mountain rose an inch; after climbing over eight feet, he could rise no higher.

Above him, the golden dragon descended, pressing down upon him.

As the Green Flower struggled against the dragon, the old man suddenly roared, yanking the spoon from the bucket.

Water Submerging Golden Mountain—there was gold, but where was the water?

Here it comes!

The peak of the Golden Mountain collapsed slightly, opening a fist-sized hole—and a torrent of golden fluid gushed forth.

The Green Flower dodged, but the golden stream chased him.

He parried with Lin Dexing, while the dragon struck from above.

The Green Flower suddenly sneezed: "Achoo!"

A gust of wind blew, scattering the golden dragon and deflecting the golden stream.

The old man barked: "Good sneeze!"

Li Banfeng froze.

Why say "good sneeze"?

The Green Flower's response seemed perfectly reasonable.

The golden stream quickly regained its course; the dragon resumed its original form.

The Green Flower tried to sneeze again—to completely dispel the stream and dragon.

But no sneeze came—he realized he'd been tricked.

The air was filled with microscopic golden broth, invisible and normally imperceptible.

But now the Green Flower perceived it.

Because sneezing requires a deep inhalation.

When he sneezed earlier, he'd inhaled a large amount of golden broth.

The first breath hadn't felt like much, but now, on the second inhalation, he felt something burning inside him—fiercely scorching his organs.

So cruel!

Enraged, the Green Flower let out a cry—"Wah!"—and vomited a stream of chalk-white matter.

The steaming vomit quickly evaporated, turning into white mist that spread through the air.

The old man told Genzi: "He's trying to release plague."

"This man is disgusting!" Genzi cursed the Green Flower.

Genzi wasn't afraid—he'd been with the old man long enough to know the old man had a way to handle this.

The old man lit a pipe, sucked in a long drag, then dumped the glowing ash into the bucket; the golden broth inside boiled, spewing thick golden vapor.

The golden vapor swirled, merging with the white mist, turning into smoke that dispersed with the wind.

The Green Flower coughed twice—it wasn't about releasing plague; it was the golden broth burning inside his lungs.

Could he still fight?

Yes.

He could use the plague in his lungs to neutralize the golden broth.

But the Green Flower didn't want to fight anymore—his opponent was too formidable; continuing would likely leave him severely wounded.

He wanted to flee, but the golden dragon and stream blocked his escape.

The Green Flower, battle-hardened, showed no panic even in crisis.

He raised his body temperature until his skin glowed red; every golden drop near him instantly evaporated.

Using this shield, he swung Lin Dexing, first driving back the dragon, then rushing to the Golden Mountain and shoving Lin Dexing's head into the hole, plugging the golden stream.

The hole was only fist-sized—tight fit—but the mountain itself wasn't hard.

Seizing the moment, the Green Flower vanished in a flash.

With the hole blocked, pressure inside the Golden Mountain surged—BOOM! it spat out Lin Dexing.

Lin Dexing flew into the sky, gone from sight.

Genzi asked the old man: "Master, aren't we chasing him?"

The old man sighed: "The Green Flower has real skill. If we push him to the brink, he'll be even harder to handle."

"What about the other one?"

The old man glanced outside the courtyard and smiled: "The other one? No need to worry—those inside the house should be the ones worried."

Pan Dehai was now inside Yao Lao's house.

Standing beside Yao Lao's bed, his expression twisted: "Don't blame me for not warning you—I'm taking your contract now."

Yao Lao lay motionless on the bed, silent.

Pan Dehai said: "I'm not joking. I'm digging it out. Yao Gou is a good place—I want another plot. You won't need it anymore, so give it to me."

Yao Lao remained still.

Pan Dehai fell silent for a moment, then sat on the edge of the bed.

He fumbled in his arms for a long time, then pulled out a thin stick.

"I bought a sugar figure on the road."

Pan Dehai fumbled in his arms several more times and pulled out some broken sugar: "It was a fine sugar figure, but that bastard Lin Dexing smashed it—"

"If you piece it together, you can still eat it. It's sweet as hell. Want some?"

"You're not getting up, are you? You're not eating, are you?"

"If you won't eat, I will. I'm not joking—I'm really eating."

Genzi stood in the courtyard and asked the old man: "Master, who is he?"

"He's Pan Dehai, the local god of Haichiling."

"What about the one lying there?"

"He's Yao Xin, the local god of Yaowanggou."

"Are they enemies or allies?"

"Hard to say," the old man shook his head. "Do you remember the disaster at Haichiling?"

"I remember."

"Pan Dehai was vile—he tried to spread Haichiling's insect plague to other territories. He fought several battles with nearby local gods over it, but he never once laid a hand on Yaowanggou."

"During that disaster, Yao Xin was the only local god who helped Pan Dehai—he sent Haichiling insect-killing medicine. Just how much grudge or debt they owe each other, I truly can't say."

……

Lin Dexing staggered down the mountain, his skin completely peeled off, flesh and muscle reduced by more than half.

His brain sloshed inside his skull, riddled with holes; his internal organs occasionally fell out in chunks, his bones all displaced.

Halfway down the mountain, Lin Dexing tripped, lost his balance, and crashed to the ground.

His eyes were badly damaged; his vision was poor, and he couldn't tell what had tripped him.

He tried to struggle up but couldn't stand—he was trapped in a net.

It was Tu Yinghong's net, originally meant to capture Li Banfeng, but stolen by the glove.

Lin Dexing struggled to break free, but his wounds were too severe; the net tightened with every movement.

Li Banfeng pulled out the Prince Chun's horsewhip and beat Lin Dexing relentlessly, until he screamed in agony, smoke rising from his body, until he lay utterly motionless—only then did Li Banfeng stop.

The glove stood on the ground with its thumb and middle finger, raised its index finger, and swayed its head: "Boss, the stuff I brought back—quality's good, right?"

Li Banfeng nodded: "Well done. This battle's your greatest contribution—you'll be richly rewarded!"

"Thank you, Boss—" The glove froze as Li Banfeng pulled out a key and opened his portable dwelling.

"Boss, you're not seriously thinking of taking this thing home, are you?"

"Boss, we can just dispose of him right here—"

"Why the hell do you need to take it home? That's not allowed! The stink's too strong! If I'd known, I never would've given you the net!"

PS: Who's gonna eat this thing?

(End of Chapter)