Chapter 37: Outloading

After resting at the inn for a day, Li Banfeng and Xiao Pang hired a carriage and set off.

Li Banfeng assumed Qin Xiaopang would take him to some very special place.

But in reality, Qin Xiaopang took him to Ligou.

Standing on the street corner, Qin Xiaopang warned: “Brother, that guy’s too slick—don’t listen to his complaints or his hardships; you’ve got to have a bottom price in mind, and you absolutely won’t sell below it!”

Li Banfeng had a psychological price target in mind.

His target was five thousand yuan per pill—below that, he wouldn’t sell.

The logic was simple: if a valuable item worth ten thousand couldn’t fetch five thousand, Li Banfeng might as well just swallow the pills himself—he wasn’t short on travel money anyway.

He still remembered the peddler’s advice: cultivators must never miss their daily practice.

In the future, if he encountered special circumstances—unable to go out or return to the Portable Dwelling—one Sheban Pill could make up for a day’s cultivation.

If the sprint champion Qiao Yuesheng had had enough Sheban Pills, he surely wouldn’t have died so tragically.

Having made up his mind, Li Banfeng asked Qin Xiaopang: “Aren’t you coming with me?”

Qin Xiaopang shook his head: “I’m not in a hurry to sell the pills; such good pills, I won’t cheapen them.

I originally planned to go with you to haggle, but last time I bought weapons from him, I spoke too hastily and damaged the rapport—so this time I won’t interfere.

Wait for me at the steamed bun shop at the street corner after you’re done.”

He spoke mysteriously, yet in the end, the place Xiao Pang found was still Feng’s General Store.

Then again, without Xiao Pang’s guidance, Li Banfeng would never have guessed a general store would even buy pills.

Inside the shop, Shopkeeper Feng greeted him with a smile: “Master Li, back again? How was your trip?”

Li Banfeng smiled: “Not bad—I’ve come to you to offload my goods.”

Shopkeeper Feng blinked: “Master Li, we don’t buy Sheban Chrysanthemums—I don’t have the alchemical formula.”

“Not Sheban Chrysanthemums. Let’s find a quiet place to talk.”

Shopkeeper Feng led Li Banfeng into the back room, where Li Banfeng first pulled out thirteen hundred yuan.

“Scythe five hundred, shovel eight hundred—this is to settle the debt!”

Shopkeeper Feng smiled as he took the money: “Master Li, you’re generous! What goods are you looking to offload?”

Li Banfeng pulled out one Sheban Pill and handed it to Shopkeeper Feng.

Shopkeeper Feng took the pill, put on his reading glasses, studied it for a long time, then nodded: “Good quality—better than the pills from the pharmacy.”

Li Banfeng sipped tea and smiled: “Shopkeeper Feng knows his stuff.”

Shopkeeper Feng smiled back, then returned the pill to Li Banfeng.

Li Banfeng froze: “What’s this? Not buying?”

Shopkeeper Feng shook his head: “Not that I won’t buy—I’m just explaining the rules. I’m not a pharmacy, I’m a general store. I can make this deal, but it’s not my trade.

In a pharmacy, this pill could fetch twelve thousand, but here, I can’t offer that price.

I don’t know how to refine pills; I have to make a profit on the markup, and since I don’t know when I’ll sell it, I have to cut the price—likely not to your satisfaction.”

Li Banfeng nodded. He’d expected this kind of talk—complaints, excuses—but no matter what, below five thousand, he wouldn’t sell.

“What’s your offer?”

Shopkeeper Feng held up five fingers. Li Banfeng assumed it meant five thousand—until the shopkeeper said: “Fifty percent off. I’ll give you no more than fifty percent—six thousand per pill.”

This price had no fluff—Shopkeeper Feng was being honest. This was his maximum, because the pills were of unknown origin, and he bore great risk.

Of course, he didn’t lowball for another reason—he needed something from Li Banfeng.

Li Banfeng nodded. Six thousand per pill was very satisfying to him.

But he kept his satisfaction off his face: “Six thousand? A bit low. How many can you take?”

Shopkeeper Feng stroked his mustache: “That depends on how many you want to sell.”

“Sixty-five pills. Can you take them?”

Shopkeeper Feng nodded: “I can.”

“Shopkeeper Feng, you’re a man of action—deal!” Li Banfeng pulled out a sack and poured out the pills.

Shopkeeper Feng counted them, nodded: “Master Li, you’re straightforward too. Such a large quantity—elsewhere they’d make you keep a ledger—but today, I’ll pay cash.”

He waved his hand and called over his clerk.

The general store had only one clerk, named Shengzi. Shopkeeper Feng whispered to him, and Shengzi went behind the shelves, through a small door, and returned shortly with a leather suitcase.

In front of Li Banfeng, Shopkeeper Feng opened the case—each bundle was ten thousand yuan, and there were thirty-nine bundles.

For such a small shop, Shopkeeper Feng was truly well-off.

“Three hundred and ninety thousand. Count it.”

Li Banfeng smiled: “Do I not trust Shopkeeper Feng?”

Li Banfeng counted it three times, then packed the suitcase away.

Shopkeeper Feng took the pills and smiled: “Master Li, thank you for your patronage. But we must clarify the rules:

I didn’t ask where the pills came from, and you mustn’t ask who I sell them to or at what price.”

“Don’t worry—I won’t break your rules.”

Li Banfeng had no interest in such matters—he grabbed the money and headed straight to the station to buy a ticket back to Yuezhou.

First, he’d feel out the wind—see if the Dark Star Bureau would let him go.

If nothing serious, he’d hurry to the hospital to check on He Jiaqing’s condition.

As Li Banfeng was about to leave with the money case, Shopkeeper Feng called out: “Master Li, wait—I’ve kept what you asked for.”

He pulled down a curtain, revealing the phonograph again before Li Banfeng.

A rustic redwood cabinet, three brass horns—one large, two small.

Just its design held Li Banfeng’s gaze.

“Master Li, do you still want this phonograph?” Shopkeeper Feng studied Li Banfeng’s expression, weighing his next words.

“If I want it, I’m going on a long trip—carrying it won’t be convenient,” Li Banfeng forced his eyes away from the machine.

Shopkeeper Feng was surprised: “You don’t need to carry it—just leave it at home.”

Li Banfeng sipped tea from his covered bowl: “If I leave it at home, no one will take care of it—wouldn’t that be a waste of such a fine thing?”

The clerk shot frantic glances at his boss.

Shopkeeper Feng sighed: “Master Li, you’re straightforward. Since you like this phonograph, I planned to give you a discount—eighteen ten thousand for it.”

Li Banfeng took a deep breath: “Wait. Wait a moment.”

Shopkeeper Feng picked up a record, placed it on the phonograph, poured two cups of tea, and lit the candle beneath the machine.

Hss! Hss! Hss!

From the right small horn, rhythmic bursts of sound emerged—the record spun, faint static rising slowly.

“The butterflies have flown, my heart is gone, who will keep me through this lonely night, wiping tears from my cheeks…”

Again, this song.

“Wild Grass and Idle Flowers Meet Spring.”

Li Banfeng could barely contain himself.

Shopkeeper Feng sighed: “Yesterday, a customer admired this phonograph. I told him it was already reserved by another buyer—I didn’t sell it to him.

Master Li, if you wait any longer, I may lose this item.

I truly hoped you’d return to hear one more tune—but next time you come, you may not even hear it again.”

Return?

Will I ever come back?

After returning to Yuezhou, Li Banfeng planned to find any job, live permanently in the Portable Dwelling—no mortgage, no commute, just a quiet, happy life.

Pulu Province—he’d probably never return.

Thinking this, Li Banfeng suddenly rose, grabbed the money case, and left the general store.

The mournful music lingered in the shop. The clerk stamped his foot and said to Shopkeeper Feng: “Boss, I think he really wanted it—we priced it too high.”

Shopkeeper Feng sighed deeply: “I can’t help it—if I sold it too cheap, this thing won’t leave!”

The clerk looked miserable: “What now? When will this thing ever sell?”

Shopkeeper Feng was utterly helpless; the shop echoed with sighs.

The song ended, the needle reached its end. Shopkeeper Feng extinguished the flame, released the steam, and was about to cover the phonograph—when he saw Li Banfeng return.

“Sixteen ten thousand. Will you sell it?”

The clerk looked at Shopkeeper Feng with hopeful eyes.

Shopkeeper Feng paused, then said calmly: “Sold.”

A few beads of sweat broke on his forehead—he wiped them away casually, showing no sign to Li Banfeng.

Li Banfeng immediately laid down sixteen ten thousand on the table.

Shopkeeper Feng didn’t count it—he took the money and ordered: “Shengzi, prepare the cart—deliver this to Master Li!”

The clerk turned to fetch the cart, when Li Banfeng called out: “Wait!”

The clerk froze, glancing at Shopkeeper Feng.

Shopkeeper Feng remained composed: “Master Li, the deal’s done—no more haggling.”

Li Banfeng shook his head: “Not haggling—I want to buy something else.”

He wanted a bed.

Since he’d be living permanently in the Portable Dwelling, sleeping on the floor wasn’t an option.

He’d planned to buy a bed after returning to Yuezhou—online was cheaper and had more styles.

But after thinking over the journey ahead, Li Banfeng decided to start by buying from the general store.

He didn’t want to live on the train anymore; he didn’t want to encounter a three-headed monster again at San Tou Cha; he didn’t want to resist unbearable temptations at Ku Dai Kan.

He could live in the Portable Dwelling—so long as he hid the key well, he could avoid every danger inside the carriage.

Buy a bed, add some food and drink, and even if the train broke down again, it wouldn’t ruin Li Banfeng’s happy life.

“Buy a bed…” Feng the Shopkeeper had been about to say he had none, but right beside the shelves in the back room stood a four-post wooden bed.

“Four-post” meant four upright pillars supporting a canopy above, with railings around the middle; the bed was one and a half meters wide and one and two-tenths meters high, its structure resembling a small house—sleeping in it felt especially secure.

Li Banfeng took a liking to the bed: “Feng Shopkeeper, what’s your price?”

Feng the Shopkeeper didn’t look at the bed—he kept staring at the phonograph.

He wasn’t sure if it was an illusion, but the phonograph seemed to have shifted slightly.

Bad. This thing might not want to leave.

Feng the Shopkeeper gritted his teeth: “Li Boss, I admire your straightforwardness—you’ve done plenty for my business. This bed—I’m giving it to you!”

He didn’t want to waste another moment—not a single second.

Li Banfeng waved his hands: “How can I accept this…”

“Li Boss, if you refuse, you’re looking down on me!”

“That’s not how it is—this bed’s so fine, how could I take it for free? Name your price, and I’ll look at the bedding too.”

“Bedding’s easy—Shengzi, bring two sets of satin quilts for Li Boss.”

“Wait, Feng Shopkeeper,” Li Banfeng was confused, “I came here to buy things, not to take advantage. I was planning to buy two shirts too…”

“Shengzi, get a measuring tape—measure Li Boss!”

Shengzi stepped forward, without argument, measured Li Banfeng from head to toe, then brought back a pure white suit.

“Li Boss, I’m claiming you as a friend—the suit’s a gift too.”

“Wait, I don’t usually wear white—it’s hard to keep clean…”

“Bring the black one!”

“Black gets dirty too easily…”

“Bring the beige plaid shirt!”

“Forget it—I won’t buy clothes. I’ll take two candles instead.”

“Shengzi, grab a bundle of candles and bring Li Boss Ingrid’s candlestick.”

“Wait, I—I don’t want anything else. I’ll just take two records.”

Feng the Shopkeeper went to the shelf, grabbed over a dozen records, and piled them on the counter: “I’ll throw in two cans of fuel, one can of oil, one water jug, two cups, one bucket, a bundle of wicks—”

“I’ve got a full toolset here—pliers, wrenches, all there. If the phonograph has a small problem, you can fix it yourself.”

“Wait, I mean…”

Feng the Shopkeeper picked up a feather duster and shoved it into Li Banfeng’s hands: “The phonograph hates dust—clean it often. Li Boss, I’m just a straightforward man—if you refuse, I’ll really get angry!”

Li Banfeng fell silent.

He couldn’t speak anymore.

The assistant hired a cart, loaded the bed first, then the phonograph, then quilts, clothes, fuel, candles, buckets—all the items were piled onto the cart.

Li Banfeng stood at the door, holding the feather duster, dazed.

The assistant helped Li Banfeng onto the cart. The shopkeeper called out: “Li Boss, take care! We’ll need your patronage again!”

With that, Shengzi urged the driver, and the cart moved off.

Watching the cart vanish around the street corner, Feng the Shopkeeper and his assistant stood in the shop for a long time.

“Shopkeeper!” Shengzi’s voice trembled.

“Shengzi!” Feng the Shopkeeper’s throat tightened.

“Shopkeeper!” Shengzi’s eyes turned red.

“Shengzi!” Feng the Shopkeeper wiped tears from his eyelids.

“Shopkeeper, did we really sell it?” Shengzi still had doubts.

“Shengzi, go check the back room—I think we sold it too cheap. Take another look—has it come back?” Feng the Shopkeeper’s tone was cautious.

Shengzi ran into the back room, then sprinted back out moments later.

“It didn’t come back. This time, it’s truly gone.”

“Shengzi!” Feng the Shopkeeper burst into tears.

“Shopkeeper!” Shengzi’s face was streaked with tears.

“Shengzi!”

“Shopkeeper!”

The two sat on the floor, wailing loudly.

The assistant wiped his tears: “Now we can finally do business in peace.”

Feng the Shopkeeper stood up, straightened his clothes: “What business? Shut the shop today. Let’s go to Feng Lai Lou, book a feast, get two girls to keep us company—we’ll celebrate for a few days first!”

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(End of Chapter)