Chapter 708: She Has Arrived

Zhong'er stood in the courtyard, seeing only flames roaring inside the window, thick smoke churning—no sign of Li Buda or Shu Wanjuan.

The fire was strange: it burned only within this one room, leaving all other dozen rooms in the mansion untouched, not even a whiff of smoke detectable.

Zhong'er glanced toward Dengpao's room, worried something had happened to Dengpao.

Dengpao came to the window, waved at Zhong'er, signaling he was fine.

Dengpao had woken long ago but dared not leave the room.

It was right not to come out now—Li Buda couldn't spare them; he and Shu Wanjuan were about to begin their final duel.

Shu Wanjuan burned in the flames, yet somehow used a technique that left his skin, hair, and clothes unscathed.

Anyone else would've sought Shu Wanjuan's weakness, shattered his technique, and let him burn to death.

But if Li Buda did that, he'd fall right into Shu Wanjuan's trap.

Finding Shu Wanjuan's weakness was extremely difficult—he'd deliberately leave one open, and if Li Buda took the bait, no one could save him.

Precisely because he understood Shu Wanjuan so well, Li Buda's strategy hadn't changed: he seized the initiative, pouring all his oil onto Shu Wanjuan and burning him fiercely, to see how he'd respond.

Shu Wanjuan truly couldn't handle it—no place to write, ink couldn't stick, and over a dozen books he released were reduced to ash; when the ash dispersed, Shu Wanjuan's face was blackened by smoke.

Li Buda laughed: "Storyteller, can't you take it?"

He truly couldn't—this was the finest oil in Like Puluozhou, and under this intensity of flame, Shu Wanjuan's technique had reached its limit.

He couldn't flee easily—this room was saturated with oil, making any movement extremely difficult; under these conditions, he was forced to reveal his hidden backup: an arched iron tablet.

"Iron book? Is that all you've got?" Li Buda sneered, though his heart tightened.

He'd seen this iron book before—its shape resembled the contract of the Earth God, but its material was far superior.

Now Shu Wanjuan would use the characters on the iron tablet to fight Li Buda—how should Li Buda respond?

His response remained unchanged: no matter how good the material, burn the iron book until it melted, and it'd be harmless.

Li Buda guided the flames to scorch the iron tablet.

Shu Wanjuan raised an eyebrow—the battle was about to be decided.

Since Shu Wanjuan appeared, they'd exchanged dozens of blows—this was Li Buda's first mistake.

He shouldn't have used fire.

Li Buda's fire was indeed powerful, but this iron tablet was Shu Wanjuan's last resort—it couldn't be melted in a short time.

Shu Wanjuan took his carving knife and inscribed a single character on the iron tablet: "Zhong."

Top "Zhong," bottom "Xin"—ordinary enough, but written on the iron tablet, it became something else entirely.

Shu Wanjuan stared at Li Buda; Li Buda felt a chill in his chest as the character "Zhong" pierced his heart.

It drove straight toward his heart.

A flood of oil surged in Li Buda's chest cavity—the "Zhong" slid past his heart, saving his life, but he was wounded: the character churned inside his chest, piercing through his body.

Countless wounds remained inside Li Buda's chest cavity.

"Painful?" Shu Wanjuan smiled, raising his carving knife to inscribe another character—but this time, the knife slipped, leaving no mark.

Li Buda realized—he shouldn't have used fire; he should've kept using oil. He hadn't expected Shu Wanjuan's iron tablet was originally blank; otherwise, he'd never let him carve a single character.

But it was too late now—this "Zhong" wasn't a one-time use; inscribed characters on the iron tablet could be reused repeatedly. Dozens of "Zhong" characters surged toward him, breaking into strokes, all stabbing at Li Buda's chest.

Li Buda's chest was pierced like a hedgehog, barely avoiding vital points by relying on his oily slipperiness.

Shu Wanjuan shook his head: "Brother Li, this won't work. Fighting you like this—I feel like I'm bullying you. Let's move to a more open space."

"Move? What are you thinking?" Li Buda wouldn't budge—this room full of oil was his advantage; elsewhere, he'd never beat Shu Wanjuan.

"If you're attached to this place, fine," Shu Wanjuan glanced at Li Buda's bed. "Step off the bed. Let's fight properly—you'll have room to maneuver. Don't just cower under the covers and take blows."

Step off the bed?

Li Buda glanced beneath the bed—nothing but ash.

Those ashes were all Shu Wanjuan's books—even burned to ash, they might still be useful.

Li Buda refused to get up: "If you've got the guts, come kill me yourself!"

Shu Wanjuan couldn't reach him either—any movement risked slipping uncontrollably; they remained locked in stalemate.

But Li Buda knew—he couldn't outlast Shu Wanjuan. Li Buda wasn't here, and his oil was nearly gone.

Where was Huolang?

Didn't he see the fire?

Why wasn't he here yet?

Huolang was frantic too—he swung a feather duster, beating down Shan Chengjun, dozens of feathers piercing and rebounding through Shan Chengjun's body, leaving him riddled with bloodied holes, desperately grabbing weapons to defend himself.

Song Song Xianyao, the Fuxiu Patriarch, clutched her chest wound and cried: "Brother, I took all those blows for you—aren't you going to return even one?"

"Would I ever shortchange you?" Huolang grabbed a handful of snow cream and tossed it toward Song Song Xianyao.

Song Song Xianyao dodged quickly—Huolang knew Fuxiu techniques; if she accepted Huolang's snow cream, who'd pay the price was uncertain.

But avoiding Huolang's snow cream wasn't easy—the white paste chased after Song Song Xianyao; no matter how she dodged left or right, some still stuck to her qipao.

Song Song Xianyao tried to run far away to drag the technique with her, but Huolang grabbed Shan Chengjun and shouted: "Stop!"

The Fuxiu technique activated—Song Song Xianyao froze in place. Hong Lian Hong Lian Baizi summoned a tangle of wild grass to entangle Huolang, but Huolang opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and swallowed every blade and leaf whole.

Hong Lian Hong Lian Baizi charged forward again—Huolang chopped off one of his arms and swallowed it too.

Hong Lian Hong Lian Baizi stopped charging, glancing sideways.

So many people came today—let others have their chance to fight.

Lvxiu Bu Bai'ai had been wounded by Huolang and dared not advance.

Huoxiu Shao Bujin had lost over ninety percent of his fire seeds; only a few faint flames flickered on his body.

He dared not move.

A dozen other leaders remained, all wounded, standing at a distance.

Only Shan Chengjun, battered and bleeding, kept fighting, snatching roof tiles and smashing them onto Huolang's head.

Huolang wiped the blood from his head and praised: "That's what I like about you—you don't hold back when it's time to risk your life!"

The praise made Shan Chengjun ecstatic—his chest bloomed open, blood gushing—he'd been struck by Huolang's Sound Technique.

Huolang was about to finish Shan Chengjun when suddenly his bones and tendons went numb.

He turned— an old man held up a bowl: "I've given it all!"

Inside the bowl was a small piece of snow cream.

Huolang gritted his teeth: "Old beggar, you're joining the party too!"

In Li Buda's room, the fire grew weaker.

Shu Wanjuan smiled: "Out of oil?"

Li Buda said nothing, his body covered in blood and grime.

He'd melted Shu Wanjuan's iron tablet, but the characters already carved had inflicted heavy wounds on him.

At this point, if Huolang still didn't arrive, Li Buda realized his chances were slim.

After a moment's hesitation, Li Buda shouted out the window: "Run!"

Zhong'er looked at Dengpao—the two brothers didn't know what to do.

Shu Wanjuan waved his hand: "No need to run."

Li Buda shouted: "Don't listen to him—run fast! I can still hold him off!"

Shu Wanjuan sighed: "Brother Li, why don't you trust me? Come back to Chaoge with me, and I won't trouble these juniors."

"But I often trouble seniors."

Splash!

Shu Wanjuan's right arm fell from his shoulder, blood splattering the floor.

Li Buda was overjoyed.

The worst part of fighting Shu Wanjuan was never being able to hurt him—he had Tianhe techniques, countless ways to deflect damage.

Who'd have thought Shu Wanjuan was ambushed and lost an arm—this was a real arm, dripping blood and flesh; even if it was a surprise attack, it felt satisfying.

Huolang had finally arrived—but why didn't he cut off Shu Wanjuan's head? Did he still feel loyalty to this man? Who even was he?

This wasn't Huolang.

Li Buda stared closely—the firelight obscured the man's face, but he could barely make out his build.

"Brother, why are you here?"

Li Li Banfeng had arrived.

He'd just tried to tear Shu Wanjuan apart with Five Horses, but Shu Wanjuan's body was too hard—he'd only ripped off one hand.

Getting even one hand off was luck for Li Li Banfeng—had Shu Wanjuan not been fully focused on Li Buda, he'd never have had a chance to ambush him.

Shu Wanjuan whipped his body, spraying blood that formed a dozen "Xue" characters, rushing toward Li Li Banfeng.

Li Buda quickly used oil to neutralize them, but these characters weren't easy to dispel—blood-written "Xue" characters.

This was a fusion of real and illusory—neutralizing them took time; Shu Wanjuan had planned to save this technique for Li Buda, but now used it on Li Li Banfeng.

The "Xue" characters circled Li Li Banfeng as he slid across the floor, avoiding them all.

The blood dissolved into oil, pooling on the ground, forming serpents that coiled around Li Li Banfeng's legs.

Li Li Banfeng shifted his feet lightly, his steps graceful—the serpents couldn't even touch his soles.

Besides blood, the floor was covered in ash—ash gathered into a hunting net, aiming to trap Li Li Banfeng.

This was why Li Buda dared not leave the bed—any step on the ground would trap him in this net.

But Li Li Banfeng wasn't afraid—he leapt across the net, step by step; the net opened and closed repeatedly, yet never caught him.

Shu Wanjuan roared in fury, stepped forward, and spat blood from his wound.

Thud!

Shu Wanjuan slipped and fell to the ground; his blood failed to form characters, and the pendulum sucked it all clean.

Walking was impossible, let alone flying—this room was slick with grease, and not everyone could move freely. Li Li Banfeng didn't fall because of his Traveling Cultivator foundation and his synergy with the pendulum.

Back when he was hunted across the Great Face and Little Face, Li Li Banfeng had already mastered walking on grease.

Taking advantage of Shu Wanjuan's fall, Li Li Banfeng used Five Horses Tear Apart again, ripping off another large chunk of flesh from Shu Wanjuan's right leg.

Shu Wanjuan did not fall—he pulled out a carving knife from his robe.

The iron decree had been burned, but the knife remained. Shu Wanjuan slashed open his clothing and carved characters directly onto his chest.

This was a ruthless move.

From his attire and Daoist markings, Shu Wanjuan could tell the man before him was Li Qi—but he wasn't familiar with Li Qi. Back when he told stories in the teahouse, he'd only glimpsed Li Qi's shadow once.

At the time, Shu Wanjuan couldn't judge Li Qi's true strength, but from these two exchanges, he clearly felt his life was under threat.

And even now, he didn't know how his right hand and right leg had lost their flesh.

The blade flipped, and Shu Wanjuan quickly recited: "Storytellers and actors guide men's ways; three great paths lie in the center. Good and evil meet their due reward—true path in this world is change!"

The Great Face feared Shu Wanjuan might use techniques like Shared Script, and quickly blocked sound with grease.

But blocking sound didn't block writing. Li Li Banfeng couldn't see what characters Shu Wanjuan carved on his chest—only the twenty-eight characters from the stabilizing verse flew out from his wounds.

The twenty-eight blood-formed characters chased Li Li Banfeng, but he remained calm, easily parrying with the pendulum, which devoured each one clean.

After swallowing the twenty-eight characters, Li Li Banfeng dismantled Shu Wanjuan's technique and prepared to use Five Horses Tear Apart again.

Killing Shu Wanjuan would be ideal; if not, no matter—he'd tear off another piece and see how long Shu Wanjuan could endure.

Shu Wanjuan guarded against the Great Face while fending off Li Li Banfeng, seemingly without counterattack—but Li Li Banfeng didn't expect the pendulum to change.

On its once-smooth surface, a scene appeared like a moving film.

The scene showed a man in a long robe, holding a wooden clapper, with a table before him—a storyteller in a teahouse.

The storyteller was narrating, but the Great Face had blocked the sound, so Li Li Banfeng didn't hear the words, nor notice the pendulum's condition.

But the storyteller inside the pendulum spoke with intense focus: "At the critical moment, the storyteller swung his folding fan, slicing from the black-clad man's shoulder to his waist—this fan was crafted by the master Duan Wuhun, severing half the black-clad man's body!"

The pendulum felt a change in its body—it faintly heard the storyteller's voice and urgently warned Li Li Banfeng: "Master, beware!"

Thanks to this warning, Li Li Banfeng instinctively used Zhai Xin Ren Hou.

At the same moment, Shu Wanjuan swung his folding fan through the air toward Li Li Banfeng.

Puff!

Shu Wanjuan didn't touch Li Li Banfeng—the distance between them was great.

But Li Li Banfeng was struck.

A gash split from his left shoulder to his waist; blood gushed out. Li Li Banfeng staggered back two steps, nearly falling.

How had he struck? How did he move? When had he used the technique?

Before Li Li Banfeng could figure it out, the pendulum cried: "Master, someone is telling a story inside me!"

"Listen!"

The storyteller inside the pendulum continued: "The iron folding fan didn't kill the black-clad man. The storyteller remained calm, closed the fan, and struck the black-clad man's head again!"

Shu Wanjuan raised his fan and struck Li Li Banfeng's forehead.

This time Li Li Banfeng was ready—he dodged before Shu Wanjuan's motion even completed.

As he dodged, Li Li Banfeng glanced at the pendulum and saw the storyteller's form clearly.

This was Shu Wanjuan's technique—using his own blood to create it.

The storyteller had taken root in the pendulum. According to Li Li Banfeng's judgment, Shu Wanjuan and the storyteller inside the pendulum worked in tandem: whenever the storyteller described a scene, Shu Wanjuan executed the corresponding move. The technique ignored distance, yet still originated from Shu Wanjuan's hand—so the key to countering lay with Shu Wanjuan himself.

If he could just avoid Shu Wanjuan's attacks—

Thud! A dull impact—blood appeared on Li Li Banfeng's forehead.

He'd dodged Shu Wanjuan's direction—why was he still hit?

The storyteller inside the pendulum didn't stop: "The fan struck hard, smashing the black-clad man's skull."

The skull didn't shatter—because Li Li Banfeng was a Cloud-Top Level Four Zhai Cultivator, his body had absorbed the blow.

But the real question now: how many more blows could he endure?

Was the real danger not Shu Wanjuan, but the storyteller inside the pendulum?

Had the storyteller used "Words Become Reality" to make Li Li Banfeng take the hits?

Taking advantage of Li Li Banfeng's distraction, the Great Face poured every last drop of grease onto the flames, intensifying them—Shu Wanjuan's clothes and beard began to burn.

Shu Wanjuan didn't engage the Great Face—he intended to focus solely on killing Li Qi.

The storyteller inside the pendulum continued without pause: "The storyteller opened his fan and thrust the blade straight into the black-clad man's throat."

Shu Wanjuan opened his fan and stabbed toward Li Li Banfeng's throat.

Li Li Banfeng didn't dare underestimate—he dodged Shu Wanjuan's motion first, regardless of whether the motion was real or not; he had to prepare.

Meanwhile, the pendulum flew to the room's edge, distancing itself from Li Li Banfeng, desperately spitting out the blood it had absorbed.

Could both of them dodge this strike?

He couldn't dodge it.

Li Li Banfeng's neck was slashed—blood dripped down his collar onto the floor.

This strike didn't seriously wound him—because the Great Face had pre-lubricated his neck.

The pendulum had indeed moved far away, but it didn't lessen the strike's effect. She tried desperately to expel the absorbed blood, but after several attempts, she couldn't.

Li Li Banfeng was still thinking of a counter, when the Great Face poured the last of the grease onto the fire and shouted: "Don't parry his moves!"

What did that mean? Why not parry after being hit?

This was the Great Face's experience: when fighting Shu Wanjuan, never parry. He'd fought Shu Wanjuan before and used only two techniques—fire or grease—because parrying was useless.

Shu Wanjuan's combat style shifted endlessly. Watching the storyteller inside the pendulum constantly attack with verses, Li Li Banfeng realized the attacks he suffered might not even correspond to those verses.

Even if he found the connection, he'd struggle to break it—he'd taken three strikes, and each might have come from a different method.

Li Li Banfeng and the Great Face did have synergy—he understood the meaning.

The storyteller inside the pendulum still spoke; the pendulum nearly wept, unable to find a solution.

The Great Face gambled everything—no grease remained; all had been poured onto Shu Wanjuan.

Shu Wanjuan's fan never caught fire—he prepared for a final strike. He glanced at the blood on the floor. Li Li Banfeng rubbed his foot, and a faint glow, hidden by the flames, passed beneath Shu Wanjuan's feet.

The flames were too intense, completely masking the glow of the boundary.

Li Li Banfeng controlled it with perfect precision—Shu Wanjuan felt no harm, no awareness of the boundary.

For an opponent of Shu Wanjuan's caliber, the boundary's damage was too weak. Better to strike decisively than to alarm him.

Now Shu Wanjuan stood within the boundary. Li Li Banfeng first used Gao Zhen Wu You to optimize his own state.

Before striking, Li Li Banfeng activated another technique to weaken Shu Wanjuan's condition to its lowest.

Shu Wanjuan's physical state changed—he became less resistant to fire, and the flames on him burned far more fiercely than before.

The moment was right. While Shu Wanjuan hadn't reacted yet, Li Li Banfeng charged with Yi Yi Gu Xing, boosting his combat power a tier.

His final strike was still Five Horses Tear Apart—if he could kill, kill; if not, immediately use Gui Xin Si Mi Jian to send Shu Wanjuan into the Personal Dwelling.

Once inside the Personal Dwelling, the battle would continue.

Shu Wanjuan was a top-tier opponent. Niangzi, Xiang Hongying, Xiao Jiu, and his entire family—all must give their all, or they might truly lose.

But once he entered, he'd never leave. Even if they couldn't defeat him, they could wear him down.

Which room would he enter?

In the past, this would've been easy—he'd enter the main chamber, where Niangzi and Xue Yingying waited, ready to strike immediately.

But now it was uncertain. Since learning Hong Lian Kuo Hong Lian Dongfang, Li Li Banfeng had scrambled the order of the Personal Dwelling. If he remembered right, the first room now was the Seventh Chamber.

The Seventh Chamber belonged to a Kui Cultivator. Niangzi and Xiang Hongying never stayed there—they might be anywhere. He didn't know if they'd join the fight the moment he entered.

Li Li Banfeng was tense. This enemy was too powerful. For the first time, he felt an opponent he couldn't beat even if dragged home.

No point overthinking—the storyteller inside the pendulum reached a climax: "The storyteller raised his fan, pointed at the black-clad man, and roared: 'Villain, where do you think you're going? Today, I shall take your head, lest you commit more evil!'"

No more delay—if Shu Wanjuan struck first, Li Li Banfeng might not survive.

Li Li Banfeng mentally rehearsed the battle after returning home, gritted his teeth, and charged toward Shu Wanjuan.

One step. Two steps. Three steps.

Li Li Banfeng took three steps—then tripped over a chair.

Where did this chair come from?

Who set this trap?

As Li Li Banfeng grew furious, he realized the chair was familiar.

Isn't this my chair? The one in the Seventh Chamber—

Beneath the chair seemed to be another object—a small, low-standing ornament.

Shu Wanjuan and the Great Face saw only the sudden appearance of the chair, not the ornament—they didn't understand Li Li Banfeng's tactic.

The moment Li Li Banfeng saw the ornament, despair seized him—but the ornament was thrilled.

"Heaven has eyes!" The ornament was Did Honglian. Slowly, her lotus leaves unfurled—she had emerged.

"Heaven has eyes!" The ornament was Did Honglian; Did Honglian slowly opened her lotus leaves—she had emerged. What caused this?

Had he unconsciously used Hong Lian Kuo Hong Lian Dongfang again?

Could Hong Lian Kuo Hong Lian Dongfang bring household items out?

Could he bring them back?

Li Li Banfeng swiftly visualized the Personal Dwelling in his mind—in an instant, Did Honglian and the chair vanished.

Shu Wanjuan and Hong Lian Budae didn't see Did Honglian and still didn't understand Li Li Banfeng's intent.

But Zhong Er, standing outside the window, lifted his head—he saw that tonight's night sky was unexpectedly bright,

PS: Since Did Honglian entered Leaving Suishenju, this was her first time stepping outside, though the time was brief.