Chapter 39: Flatland Wind

Li Banfeng had a wonderful night’s dream, in which a feather kept tickling his ear.

After leaving the Suishenju, he realized it was already noon—he needed a timekeeping device.

Once back in Yuezhou, all these problems would be easy to solve; even a mobile phone could fix them.

The hour was late; he wasn’t sure if he could still buy a train ticket.

Li Banfeng stepped out of the Suishenju and walked several hundred meters down the street when he suddenly felt a strange reaction in his body.

He couldn’t say exactly what kind of reaction it was.

He scanned the street for vehicles—horse-drawn carriages, rickshaws, anything with wheels would do.

As he looked around, he noticed pedestrians occasionally casting glances his way.

What are you staring at?

I’m dressed in a suit, tie, and a top hat—I look perfectly respectable today!

The pedestrians meant no harm; they were merely curious.

Strange—how do I know they mean no harm?

Why are there so many odd reactions today?

The pedestrians meant no harm—they weren’t staring at his clothes, but at Li Banfeng’s extraordinary speed.

He wasn’t running; he was merely walking, hands in his pockets, casually strolling down the street.

Yet his feet moved along a trajectory beyond normal comprehension, propelling his body forward rapidly—by the time Li Banfeng noticed the anomaly, he had already reached the end of the street.

I didn’t mean to walk this fast…

Watching the buildings on either side blur past, Li Banfeng struggled to rein in his steps.

He hadn’t consciously exerted himself, nor felt the slightest fatigue.

His legs seemed fitted with motors—without brakes, they simply wouldn’t stop.

Even if he tried to brake, he couldn’t control it—he could stand still, but the moment he took a step forward, he surged ahead at twenty miles per hour.

This isn’t good—I can’t even walk normally anymore?

Is this caused by the toxic mist of Kuwu Mountain?

Is this a temporary symptom, or irreversible damage?

Despite his best efforts to restrain himself, Li Banfeng reached the edge of Ligou in a very short time.

He had intended to find a quiet place to regain control of his legs, but when he passed a large banyan tree, a rickshaw parked beneath it caught his eye.

First take the rickshaw to the train station, buy a ticket, board the train, enter the Suishenju, then train my legs.

While pondering, his legs kept moving—he walked another dozen meters, then reversed his path to stand before the rickshaw driver, struggling to halt, and asked: “How much to the train station?”

The driver drew on his pipe, looked up, and smiled at Li Banfeng: “You’re going to the station—why ride a rickshaw?”

Li Banfeng stared at the driver for a moment.

He recognized this driver—he’d been hired by Monkey Qiu, the one with the steam-powered rickshaw.

It was this man who had pulled Li Banfeng from the station to the peddler’s location, for which Monkey Qiu paid a full five hundred.

The driver was right—the station wasn’t far from Ligou; with Li Banfeng’s speed, he could reach it in an instant.

But Li Banfeng didn’t know the way.

The driver stood up and pointed at the dusty road ahead: “Head north along this road for three and a half li, turn east for two li, then north again for less than one li—you’ll find a fork; go two more li, and you’ll reach the station.”

Li Banfeng shook his head: “Too complicated—I’ll just ride.”

The driver, cigarette dangling from his lips, said: “What’s complicated? You’ve reached Level One of Travel Cultivation—can’t you find your way?”

Indeed.

This strange speed wasn’t caused by Kuwu Mountain’s toxic mist—it was the result of advancing in Travel Cultivation.

Why had Travel Cultivation advanced?

Because Li Banfeng had spent a day and night in a perilous place.

While on Kuwu Mountain, choked by the toxic mist, he’d forgotten the peddler’s warning.

Spending a day and night in a perilous place triggers a level advancement in Travel Cultivation.

Kuwu Mountain was a perilous place—this meant Li Banfeng had passed the Travel Cultivation trial and become a Level One cultivator.

Advancing in Travel Cultivation was a good thing.

But not too fast—otherwise, it would trigger backlash from Residence Cultivation.

Yet there was no choice: the Suishenju couldn’t produce a Residence Spirit, so Residence Cultivation couldn’t advance. For a while, Residence Cultivation would be suppressed by Travel Cultivation—Li Banfeng could only manage the gap between them.

“Why didn’t I sense it yesterday?” Li Banfeng murmured.

The driver asked: “When did you pass Level One?”

“The day before yesterday—on Kuwu Mountain,” Li Banfeng answered honestly.

The driver chuckled: “Passed yesterday, advanced today—that’s fast. Most take three to five days. Young man, you’ve got good fortune—hurry to the station.”

Li Banfeng said to the driver: “I’m too lazy to walk. Since you’re here pulling a rickshaw, why not take a fare?”

The driver paused, then said: “You insist on riding my rickshaw? Know how much I charge? Others charge eight—my fare is two hundred.”

“Two hundred—I’ll pay!” Li Banfeng pulled out two hundred yuan and handed them to the driver.

On this driver, Li Banfeng sensed a certain familiarity—he was certain he’d paid the right amount.

The driver traced the banknote’s pattern and smiled: “Alright, I’ll warn you—my rickshaw gets you there in a blink.”

“Can you go slower?” Li Banfeng made a request that seemed absurd.

The driver understood: “Slower’s fine—but the slower I go, the higher the fare. Five hundred yuan for two characters—will you agree?”

Two characters meant two digits on the clock—ten minutes.

Li Banfeng nodded: “Agreed.”

The driver sighed: “Fat meat lands in your mouth—you’ve got to eat it. Get in.”

Li Banfeng climbed into the rickshaw; the driver pulled it north, casually, as if strolling.

Li Banfeng asked: “What level are you in Travel Cultivation?”

He’d recognized the driver as a Travel Cultivator—the first time he rode him, the driver had demonstrated Travel Cultivation abilities, though Li Banfeng hadn’t understood the concept then.

The driver didn’t answer: “Five hundred yuan just to ask about my cultivation? Is that fair? Two characters will pass quickly—ask me something else.”

“Do all Travel Cultivators walk this fast?”

“Do I look like I’m walking fast?” As he spoke, the driver took one step after another—normal human pace.

“Then why do I walk so fast?”

The driver explained: “The way you just walked—that’s Pingdi Shengfeng. It’s a Level One Travel Cultivator’s ability.

New Level One cultivators can’t control their steps yet; it takes practice to master control.”

“How do I train?”

The driver pointed to a hand-pump well by the roadside: “Ever used one? Before, walking was like pumping water—thump-thump-thump. Now you must hold back the force—the water stream must be thinner than a hemp rope, so you walk like an ordinary person.”

Thinner than a hemp rope?

“That’s hard to gauge.”

“There’s a trick: start by holding back the first force at your hips, then slowly shift forward step by step. Next, hold back the second force at your knees, moving forward with your hips.

Then your ankles, then your toes—hold back each layer in sequence. With enough insight, you’ll grasp the basics by day’s end.”

Li Banfeng smiled bitterly: “So now I have to relearn how to walk after advancing a level?”

“Don’t complain—it’s messy at first. You’ll fall plenty of times. Once you master the technique, you’ll cover sixty or seventy li in an hour without trouble.”

With that speed, his daily twenty-li foundation training would take less than half an hour.

But the problem is…

“Is twenty li enough for a Level One Travel Cultivator?”

“Not enough!” the driver shook his head vigorously. “In ordinary places, you need at least fifty li daily.”

Fifty li?

Not a big issue.

“What counts as an ordinary place?”

“Streets and alleys—all ordinary places.”

“What counts as an unusual place?”

“Climbing mountains—the steeper the better. Swimming in water—the deeper the better. In Lanqing Village, there’s a muddy swamp—if you walk two li through it, your daily training is complete.

On Yangcha Mountain, there’s a Blade Demon Ridge—if you walk one li along it, your training is complete, and you even gain a full day’s time.

The essence of Travel Cultivation lies in danger—the more treacherous the terrain, the faster one's cultivation advances.

Li Banfeng felt deeply: “On Kuwu Mountain, cultivation advanced quickly too, didn’t it?”

The driver shook his head: “That place—I advise you to avoid it. Going up and down, scattered and chaotic—you have no idea how many died on that mountain.

You survived because of luck. Your luck is truly great—you endured even the heavenly light. Good fortune means you must cherish your life. Don’t waste such a precious life for a few coins.”

“I went to Kuwu Mountain to earn money. Money is hard to come by,” Li Banfeng said, deeply aware of this truth.

The driver chuckled: “There are plenty of easy ways to earn money. Pulling a rickshaw isn’t bad—I made five hundred just last time you hired me, and today another five hundred.

I heard this year, major pharmacies pay only twenty-five yuan per snake-spotted chrysanthemum. Tell me—who earns money more easily?”

By his logic, pulling a rickshaw was indeed easier.

The driver smiled: “You look down on this trade, think it’s shameful. I look down on you reckless ones—you’re cheapening your lives.”

Li Banfeng didn’t argue about professions anymore; he asked: “How do I find suitable training grounds—places with some danger, but not extreme?”

The driver replied briefly: “Face peril according to your strength. Avoid perilous people entirely. Kuwu Mountain is both perilous terrain and filled with perilous people—you shouldn’t go there!”

"How do I distinguish between dangerous places and dangerous people?"

"Traveling cultivators can sense danger; this is called seeking fortune and avoiding misfortune—a technique unique to first-layer Traveling cultivators, allowing them to perceive not only dangerous places but also dangerous people."

Li Banfeng’s eyes lit up: "First-layer Traveling cultivators have two techniques?"

PS: November 1st, Shala begs the readers for votes.

(End of Chapter)