Chapter 71: The Suspended Sack Beneath the Tree

Li Banfeng practiced with the iron ruler for two hours and felt he had gained some insight.

The phonograph kept urging: “Master, a true man’s ambition stretches a thousand li—why stay cooped up at home? Go buy groceries!”

Is buying groceries what makes a true man?

Li Banfeng checked his pocket watch—it was already ten o’clock. He really ought to step out.

Back at Yu’s Village, Li Banfeng first went to find Old Zhu for lunch, then decided to take a walk through the New Land.

Travel cultivators must cover at least fifty li daily; though yesterday’s route was longer and exceeded the quota, in cultivator parlance, he had saved up some time.

But even with surplus time, one shouldn’t waste it on mundane cultivation.

Old Zhu couldn’t dissuade Li Banfeng, so he told him the New Land’s taboos: “Master Li, don’t cut trees, don’t pull up grass, don’t harm the birds or beasts in the forest,

don’t eat the fruit or drink the water from the forest, and if you see someone you can’t understand or encounter something you can’t fathom, return immediately,

you passed through this area once before—try to follow the same path, and be extra careful.”

Warnings must be heeded, but retracing the same path won’t help accumulate cultivation.

Li Banfeng relied on the travel cultivator’s technique of seeking fortune and avoiding doom, steering clear of the most perilous areas.

But in the New Land, safe places were few.

Within three li of Yu’s Village, progress was smooth.

Beyond three li, Li Banfeng repeatedly felt danger drawing near—goosebumps rose one after another, and every two steps he couldn’t help shuddering; the travel cultivator’s technique kept warning him.

After walking nearly ten li, Li Banfeng realized his daily foundational cultivation was complete.

Should he head back now?

Fine, he’d go back—take an afternoon stroll, then return for a nap. A reasonable plan.

Li Banfeng turned to retrace his steps when suddenly someone called from the tree:

“Brother, is that you?”

Whose voice was that?

He Jiaqing?

Li Banfeng silently looked up.

He saw a thread, as thick as a finger, nearly transparent, hanging down from the tree.

Following the thread upward, Li Banfeng saw a massive “bamboo basket,” slowly sliding down along the thread.

Was that a bamboo basket?

Pitch-black and airtight, it seemed woven from branches, completely covered in leaves, sealing every gap.

The basket’s opening faced straight down, directly above Li Banfeng’s head.

The thread entered through the opening, passed through the basket’s bottom, and was tied to the tree.

A man’s voice came from inside the basket: “Brother, you’ve finally come.”

The first time he heard that voice, Li Banfeng was stirred—he thought he’d found He Jiaqing.

Hearing it again, he realized the voice differed greatly from He Jiaqing’s; it was muffled by the basket, only slightly resembling He Jiaqing’s hoarse tone.

Li Banfeng stared at the basket, sensing no danger, and asked calmly: “Why call me brother? Did you mistake me for someone else?”

The basket hung suspended in midair. After a pause, another voice came from within: “Child, is that you?”

The voice was hoarse and gentle, like an elderly mother with white hair.

Li Banfeng was skilled at mimicking female voices, but this time he detected no trace of imitation.

Was there another person inside the basket?

Though still sensing no danger, Li Banfeng decided to leave immediately.

He remembered the driver’s warnings.

If the other party was stronger than him, he might not perceive their malice.

Li Banfeng had just taken one step forward when the thread suddenly shot out from the basket, wrapping around his legs.

He was tripped and fell onto his back.

He struggled twice to break free—the thread was incredibly resilient, his legs wouldn’t budge.

He didn’t rashly grab the thread with his hands; if his hands got trapped too, he’d have no chance to escape.

He slipped both hands into his pockets—his right hand pulled out a pair of mandarin duck daggers.

A peculiar weapon formed by two crescent blades crossing each other, their edges razor-sharp.

But after several attempts, the mandarin duck daggers couldn’t cut the thread.

The massive basket slowly descended, trembling gently.

Another voice came from the basket, soft and delicate: “Husband, you’ve come?”

It was the voice of a young woman—again, no trace of imitation.

“You’re mistaken,” Li Banfeng replied calmly, immediately stowing the mandarin duck daggers and drawing his iron ruler.

The iron ruler had no blade, but its spikes were extremely sharp.

The basket continued descending, shaking more violently.

A woman’s face slowly emerged at the basket’s opening—beautiful features, exquisite; the finger-thick thread emerged from her lips, stretching downward.

So the thread came from her mouth.

This reminded Li Banfeng of a special caterpillar that hangs itself from trees with silk.

What was it called again?

It was called a bagworm.

Was this woman a bagworm?

A single thread pierced her body—one end came from her mouth, where was the other end?

And what was this basket?

It was the bagworm’s cocoon!

The cocoon slowly drew nearer; the woman’s face writhed as it slowly crawled out of the cocoon.

Long black hair fell onto Li Banfeng’s face; the exquisite woman looked down at him, silk still in her mouth, and asked in a muffled voice: “Did I guess wrong three times?”

“Yes, all wrong,” Li Banfeng replied, his brow relaxing into a faint smile. He gripped the iron ruler tightly and thrust it toward the woman’s third eye.

Travel cultivators moved swiftly—Li Banfeng had just left his home, his stamina at its peak.

The thrust was fast and precise—the iron ruler’s spike was about to pierce the woman’s forehead when another silk thread shot from the cocoon and wrapped around Li Banfeng’s arm.

Another silk thread?

Where did this one come from?

The cocoon swung back and forth, its motion growing wilder; a short-haired man’s head struggled to emerge from the opening.

Bushy eyebrows, large eyes, thick lips—a sharply defined man, silk in his mouth, looking down at Li Banfeng: “Really all wrong?”

“I’m not lying,” Li Banfeng said, pulling his left hand from his pocket.

Before he could open his palm, another silk thread tightly coiled around his entire left arm.

From within the cocoon, a white-haired old woman’s head squeezed between the other two, biting silk as she strained to emerge.

She was an elderly woman with wrinkled skin.

Were three worms crammed into one cocoon?

Or was it one worm with three heads?

The old woman, toothless, bit the silk and grinned at Li Banfeng: “I guessed wrong. Now it’s your turn—guess who I am?”

Li Banfeng blinked and asked: “What if I guess wrong?”

The woman replied: “Then we’ll eat you.”

Li Banfeng asked again: “What if I guess right?”

The man answered: “Then you’ll live with us.”

Damn it, they weren’t giving him a chance to live!

Li Banfeng poured all his strength into his left arm, struggling desperately.

The old woman bit down harder, tightening the silk.

“What’s in your hand? It must be something fun—let me see, quick, let me see! Hehehe~” The old woman bit the silk, emitting a strange laugh.

Under the silk’s pull, Li Banfeng’s left hand slowly opened.

It wasn’t his keychain—it was a glove, and on the glove lay a rust-red elixir.

The old woman tried to coil the silk around the elixir; the moment the silk touched the rusted pill, rust instantly spread across it.

The spread was so rapid it startled Li Banfeng—even faster than the rusted elixir corroded his iron cigarette case.

Did the rusted elixir suppress the silk?

What a fortunate surprise.

The silk on his left arm rusted through quickly; Li Banfeng grabbed the rusted elixir and rolled it over his entire body.

Rust spread across every silk strand—the resilient threads rapidly became brittle, and Li Banfeng broke free.

The three heads inside the cocoon also bit through their own silk.

They had no choice—the rust was crawling up the silk, nearly entering their mouths.

The three heads spat out their silk and lunged toward Li Banfeng together.

This time Li Banfeng was ready—he rolled aside, dodging the silk, then swung his iron ruler and drove the spike into the man’s temple.

The man screamed in agony; the other two heads felt the pain and joined his cries.

Li Banfeng raised his hand and threw the rusted elixir into the cocoon.

The three heads twisted in unison, sensing unbearable pain, and retracted into the cocoons simultaneously.

Not long after, the young bride’s head emerged from the cocoon, her beautiful face streaked with rust.

For a moment, Li Banfeng truly considered carrying the cocoon into his Personal Dwelling, feeding the soul to his wife, and seeing what the Copper Lotus might forge from the corpse.

But after a moment’s hesitation, Li Banfeng left.

Li Banfeng still did not know the true state of these three worms—if the Rust Elixir failed to subdue them, he might be forced to stay here and join them.

This was the New Land.

Li Banfeng finally understood why five out of six men had died within three days of reclamation.

Li Banfeng did not dwell on it further; he ran at full speed back to Yu Family Village.

As he walked beneath a massive banyan tree, he suddenly saw the canopy tremble, and another bundle of silk fell before him.

Li Banfeng leapt back swiftly, avoiding the silk, cold sweat bursting across his body.

Had the three worms followed?

Had the Rust Elixir failed?

A woman’s voice came from the canopy—not the old woman, nor the young bride.

“My children only wanted to play with you—why did you hurt them?”

A middle-aged woman’s face emerged from the canopy.

Was this the mother of the three worms?

Shhh! Shhh! Shhh!

The dense leaves rustled as a massive body slithered between them.

Li Banfeng changed direction—he intended to circle around the tree.

Boom!

A muffled thud as the woman fell from the tree.

She had a human face, and a human head.

But she had no neck—behind her head was a fat, bloated emerald body.

It was a green worm, lying on the ground, taller than Li Banfeng by a full measure.

“Don’t leave—stay here, become my child.”

Ripples spread across the worm’s body as it crawled toward Li Banfeng.

PS: Shalatou spat silk, entangling the Reader—don’t go, stay and talk with me!

(End of Chapter)