Chapter 803: Defying the Past, Loyalty to the Fore

Li Banfeng arrived at the peddler’s house carrying a torch.

Just as he reached the base of the wall, a feather duster flew down from the roof, its multicolored feathers swaying as it shouted at Li Banfeng: “Don’t set fire! I’ll be right back!”

Li Banfeng stuck the torch into the ground and waited silently beneath the wall.

Half an hour later, the peddler returned, and Li Banfeng handed him the box of maps provided by Huanwuchang.

According to the investigations of the Hand-to-Hand Alliance, the Great Totem is in Yindu.

“Yindu is hard to find,” the peddler opened the iron box and flipped through the maps. “These maps are probably useless.”

Li Banfeng said: “I’ll go scout first—I have the Dingpan Map.”

The peddler shook his head slightly: “This is too dangerous. I won’t let you go. I’ll handle it myself. Just lend me the Dingpan Map.”

Li Banfeng said nothing.

Borrowing something from the Old Man wasn’t easy.

A sobbing sound reached his ears.

“What are you crying for?” The peddler turned toward Li Banfeng’s back—the sobbing came from Suishenju.

“T-that Dingpan Map—it’s mine! You can’t take it!” Suishenju wept uncontrollably.

The peddler snapped: “I’m just borrowing it—I’m not keeping it!”

“But what if you lose it?”

“I’ll compensate you—double!”

Suishenju stopped crying. In the peddler’s hand appeared a yellow-brown scroll.

The peddler unrolled it—it was blank, no characters, no diagrams.

But the peddler knew value. He held it up to the sun, nodded, and said: “This is genuine. I’m heading to Neizhou now. Brother, guard the house. If anyone comes to cause trouble, beat them to death.”

“If you can’t beat them, pin them down first—I’ll return and we’ll handle them together.”

The peddler pushed his cart to leave when Li Banfeng suddenly called out: “Senior Brother, be careful.”

The peddler laughed: “Don’t worry—I’m tough as nails.”

Chu Er lay on the bed, blinking but silent—she couldn’t speak.

Ku Popo sighed: “The poison has sunk too deep. Unless you get a Lanye Pill, you’ll never walk again in this lifetime.”

“Lanye Yang is hard to find, and the pill is hard to refine. I’ll ask around—see if I can get some. It’s up to luck.”

Hearing “luck,” Chu Er felt a flicker of hope—after all, Ku Popo controlled fortune.

Ku Popo had little confidence: “If luck’s good, maybe I can get three or four pills. But even that won’t restore you. Your cultivation is gone. You’ll need others to feed you, bathe you, clean you. You fool—what can I even say to you?”

Ku Popo left. Chu Er lay on the bed, sniffled, and two tears rolled down her cheeks.

She cried—but she didn’t regret it.

She wanted to wipe her tears, but her hands wouldn’t move.

A handkerchief pressed against her cheek. Chu Er startled—Li Banfeng was wiping her tears.

Chu Er strained to lift the corners of her mouth. Seeing Li Banfeng, she wanted to smile—but the tears kept flowing.

“Why did you lie to me? If I’d known you’d use this method, I’d never have let you hold back Ku Popo .” Li Banfeng pulled out a Lanye Pill and placed it in Chu Er’s mouth.

Li Banfeng had heard every word Ku Popo had just spoken—but Ku Popo couldn’t see him.

After taking the pill and resting over an hour, Chu Er’s fingers slowly moved. She struggled to move them for Li Banfeng to see.

Li Banfeng pulled a box from his robe and placed it beside her pillow: “I have plenty of Lanye Pills. I’ll find a way to cure you.”

Chu Er’s neck trembled slightly—she tried to nod to Li Banfeng.

There weren’t many Lanye Pills left. After arriving at Yunshang, Li Banfeng had given away all his pills—including the Lanye Pills.

The box he gave Chu Er held only twenty-some pills. Given her condition, that wouldn’t be enough. Li Banfeng ran straight to Xindi.

Ku Popo arrived at He Jiaqing’s thirteen new plots. He Jiaqing sat silently before a wooden hut, staring blankly.

He still had one deed scroll left, but he didn’t know what to do with it—the characters on it hadn’t changed.

If Ai Yeqing took the scroll, he should’ve dripped blood onto the land to claim it under his name—or found someone to replace him as Land God.

But the scroll hadn’t changed, meaning there was still room to reverse it.

He Jiaqing wanted to rebury the scroll and let Datou become Land God—but if the other side altered the scroll, he’d never know.

Or he could wait for Ai Yeqing to alter the scroll, bury it, then sneakily change it back—steal the foundation and replace the pillar.

But he didn’t know when Ai Yeqing would act. Waiting like this wasn’t a solution.

He wanted to keep clearing land, but feared drawing attention—or making someone else rich.

He wanted to wait and watch, but leaving over eighty percent of the land idle left him in turmoil.

After days of thought, he came up with a good plan.

First, have Duan Shuqun destroy the neighboring plot and seize its deed scroll.

Then have Duan Shuqun sign the scroll, officially defeat Datou, and absorb all thirteen plots—making Duan Shuqun the new Land God.

It was a viable plan—but would the peddler punish him for killing a Land God?

If Duan Shuqun killed the Land God alone, it wouldn’t violate the peddler’s rules—but Duan Shuqun lacked the strength.

If He Jiaqing took part, it would count as a Star Cultivator seizing land and killing—a crime the peddler would never forgive.

The key was, no matter how he hid it, the peddler would know He Jiaqing was behind it.

He Jiaqing was torn—was this plan even feasible?

Waiting too long wouldn’t work. If Ai Yeqing altered the Land God, reclaiming the land would be far harder.

In his distress, Ku Popo arrived with a branch of Lanye Yang: “I need to refine some pills.”

He Jiaqing knew she wanted to make Lanye Pills. He shook his head: “This pill is too hard to refine.”

He wasn’t making excuses—Lanye Yang was deadly toxic. After refining the pill, all the residual poison would remain with He Jiaqing.

Though he could refine pills, he wasn’t a Copper Lotus—he couldn’t withstand such heavy poison, and he didn’t want to risk it.

Ku Popo said: “Are you trying to bargain? Name your price.”

He Jiaqing thought long, then took the Lanye Yang branch: “I wouldn’t dare bargain with you—but I want one adjacent plot. Please help me.”

Ku Popo frowned: “You can’t even manage thirteen plots—and now you want a fourteenth?”

He Jiaqing said: “With the fourteenth plot, I can reclaim the thirteen.”

Ku Popo hesitated long, then shook her head: “You’re provoking the peddler.”

He Jiaqing sighed, holding the Lanye Yang branch: “If you find it too difficult, I’ll refine the pill for you—but don’t rush. The poison is too strong—it takes time.”

Ku Popo stared at He Jiaqing for a long time.

She knew—if she didn’t help him seize this plot, she might never get the pill.

Li Banfeng arrived at the orange grove, his heart trembling.

He sensed danger—was the Orange Grove Elder hostile?

The old man was pruning orange trees. Seeing Li Banfeng, he beamed: “You’ve finally come—I knew you would.”

Li Banfeng blinked: “You knew?”

The elder peeled an orange for him. The fruit was huge—ordinary oranges in the grove were fifty centimeters; this one was twice as large. Li Banfeng ate until he burped.

“Full yet? This is the best orange in the grove—only ten grow each year. You happened to catch harvest season. If you want more, I’ll peel you another!”

“Full. I’ve never eaten an orange this good.” As always, Li Banfeng collected the peel and buried the seeds in the soil.

The elder chuckled: “Seeing you, my heart brightens. You’re planning to strike tonight? I’ll go with you—I can’t stand to see good children mistreated.”

Li Banfeng froze: “Strike?”

The elder stared: “You came here not to ask for help?”

Li Banfeng said: “I came to ask for some Lanye Yang.”

The elder slapped his thigh: “Kid, you’ve got guts! At a time like this, you still want Lanye Yang? Bei Wushuang is coming to take your land—you don’t know?”

Li Banfeng stood stunned for a long time.

Wasn’t Bei Wushuang dead? He and Xiu had killed him together—blown to pieces.

Had he returned to life?

Li Banfeng’s mind drifted—he remembered something.

When Bei Wushuang died, he didn’t claim his soul, didn’t weep.

Pan Dehai had said the insect plague at Haichiling was tied to Bei Wushuang—ordered by Neizhou. As a servant of Neizhou, Bei Wushuang deserved one resurrection.

But another critical question arose.

“Elder, how do you know that land is mine?”

The plot next to Bei Wushuang belonged to Li Furong—Li Banfeng’s first new plot. Only Meng Yuchun knew this—Li Banfeng had told no one else.

The elder smiled: “I’ve farmed my whole life. My cultivation isn’t low. I lack the insight to grow talking, jumping crops. I’ve no great talents—but one skill: even Xu Han can’t do it—I can speak to the soil.”

Don’t underestimate the dirt—it speaks little, but it knows its master. When I came to your land to collect seeds, the soil told me: you’re its master.”

Li Banfeng stood stunned for a long time.

He wasn’t surprised—he remembered something. On Ma Wu’s land, he’d sensed joy in the soil.

Clearly, this Orange Grove Elder had strong spiritual perception.

The elder sighed: “Bei Wushuang is no good. When Zhang Wanlong was alive, he never showed up. Now Zhang Wanlong’s gone, he comes to your land looking for the deed scroll.”

Meng Yuchun found out and went to fight him—but she’s only at Cloud Level Two. She couldn’t beat Bei Wushuang.

Li Banfeng didn’t understand Meng Yuchun’s thinking: “Why didn’t she tell me? Why fight him alone?”

The elder shook his head: “Young master, you’re a Traveling Cultivator—you think land is close. She’s a Home Cultivator. Outside her land, she can’t find her way. Getting to you isn’t easy.”

She sent her cook to find you. Whether he’s reached Lüshui Bay yet is anyone’s guess.”

This is a secluded territory.

It’s hard for people to find it normally—that’s a good thing.

But once danger strikes, it’s equally hard to seek help from others.

No wonder I sensed danger earlier—it turns out Bei Wushuang came here to cause trouble.

Li Banfeng glanced toward his own territory: “Lucky I came just now—I’ll go talk to Bei Wushuang.”

The Orange Garden Elder rose and said: “Wait here—I’ll go get my tools.”

Li Banfeng stopped the elder: “How could I trouble you with this matter?”

The elder shook his head: “I’ve long wanted to act. If you hadn’t come today, I’d have fought Bei Wushuang myself. You and Meng Yuchun are both good kids—I won’t let you be bullied by that bastard.”

Li Banfeng said: “Old man, with your word, he won’t dare bully us. Please prepare a large branch of Blueleaf Poplar for me—I need it to rescue someone. After I deal with Bei Wushuang, let’s have some oranges and a proper drink together.”

The elder still couldn’t relax: “Child, don’t underestimate Bei Wushuang—he’s not what he used to be. You might not be able to beat him.”

Li Banfeng lowered his hat brim: “I’m not underestimating him. If I truly can’t win, I’ll come back for your help.”

Leaving the orange grove, Li Banfeng ran toward his territory. Passing Meng Yuchun’s domain, he saw a blue butterfly fly into her cave.

This butterfly was clearly no ordinary creature—its flight speed far outpaced birds.

Meng Yuchun was at home recovering from injuries; her fresh bandages and clothes were already soaked through with blood.

The butterfly reached the door, transformed into human form, and shouted loudly: “Sister, that camel’s back again!”

The stone door opened. The blue butterfly entered Meng Yuchun’s chamber, panting: “Sister, that camel reached a mountain and is writing on the cliff face.”

Meng Yuchun gasped: “Which mountain?”

“That one—the tallest one. There aren’t many mountains on Baishan Lord’s territory,” the blue butterfly stammered, her words jumbled in panic, but Meng Yuchun understood clearly.

The mountain she meant was Baishan Lord’s residence—the very place where the territory covenant was kept.

If he opened the cliff, Li Qi’s territory would be lost.

Meng Yuchun tore open her clothes, stepped before the bronze mirror, bit a strand of hair, picked up a roll of bandages, and tightly wrapped her wounds.

The bronze mirror trembled as it spoke—this was her dwelling spirit: “Yuchun, let me go with you.”

“You can’t leave the dwelling. If I can lure Bei Wushuang here, we still have a chance,” Meng Yuchun finished wrapping the bandages.

She put on a black short jacket, carefully adjusting the collar and lapels.

“Do I look good?” Meng Yuchun smiled at the mirror.

“Beautiful, Chun’er—you look the most beautiful,” the mirror fogged over, fearing she’d never see Meng Yuchun again.

Meng Yuchun took several magic treasures and prepared to leave. A hand reached out from the mirror, gripping her arm: “Yuchun, don’t go—

That’s Li Qi’s territory. Leave it alone! Li Qi is powerful—he can reclaim his territory even if he loses it!”

Meng Yuchun shook her head: “Li Qi saved me. One must repay kindness.”

The dwelling spirit wept: “Then take those three-headed ones with you—let them fight alongside you!”

“We agreed they’d only clear land, nothing else. I won’t break that promise,” Meng Yuchun broke free from the spirit and dashed out of the cave.

Hululululu~

Bei Wushuang stuck out his tongue, stared at the cliff, and spat into the inkstone.

After spitting, his navel grunted: “Can’t you be less disgusting?”

Bei Wushuang said: “This is new land—hard to find water. Just grind the ink!”

The navel sighed: “This is a disgrace to scholarship!”

A hand emerged from his hump, stroking the smooth flesh: “How long are you two going to dawdle? Didn’t you say once you write one hundred and eight ‘open’ characters, the cliff will open itself?”

Hululululu—Bei Wushuang counted: “I’ve written over sixty already. Almost done.”

The navel shouted: “Can you even count? You just wrote past eighty—how is it sixty again?”

Bei Wushuang lifted his front hoof, his navel facing forward: “Count for yourself—it’s sixty!”

The navel counted again. Indeed, there were only sixty-odd “open” characters on the cliff.

Where did the other twenty-plus characters go? Had he miscounted before?

The hump shouted: “Stop counting. Write faster—we don’t even know if the covenant’s still inside.”

As the three parts argued, Meng Yuchun arrived silently beside them.

She was a Dwelling Cultivator of Cloud Level Two. Though her talent was slightly inferior to Li Banfeng’s, if she remained motionless, Bei Wushuang would struggle to detect her.

Meng Yuchun aimed at the back of Bei Wushuang’s skull, flicked her right index finger—and a short sword over a foot long slashed downward.

This short sword was a magic treasure—it needed no command from Meng Yuchun. At the right moment, it knew exactly how to kill.

Just as the blade neared Bei Wushuang’s neck, a hand suddenly shot from his hump, seized the hilt, and used the sword’s momentum to swing it back toward Meng Yuchun.

This wasn’t the magic treasure betraying her—it was because the hand from the hump wielded Wu Xiu techniques, directly turning her own weapon into a weapon against her.

Meng Yuchun stood her ground, relying on her Dwelling Heart’s Thick Defense to absorb the blow.

She held it—but bled. This place was too far from her dwelling; Dwelling Heart’s Thick Defense was weakened.

She didn’t dodge because she used the Cloud Level Technique: Solitary Shadow. To keep her shadow beneath Bei Wushuang’s feet, she had to remain still.

The shadow on the ground held a pair of shears, slicing toward Bei Wushuang’s neck.

Meng Yuchun’s ambush was meticulously prepared—the shears nearly touched Bei Wushuang’s throat.

But the shadow froze. Bei Wushuang’s navel spat a drop of ink, forming a “seal” character on the ground, trapping the shadow.

The shadow struggled desperately but couldn’t break free. Meanwhile, Meng Yuchun herself was now immobilized.

Her Solitary Shadow technique was incomplete—the shadow and her body couldn’t fully separate. Since the shadow remained, she couldn’t move.

The hand from the hump raised the short sword again, swinging toward Meng Yuchun. She had no immediate countermeasure.

Dwelling Heart’s Thick Defense wouldn’t hold. Her deep dwelling couldn’t be summoned. Closing the Gates was impossible. Expanding the Land wouldn’t reach Li Banfeng’s territory.

She relied too heavily on her dwelling. Now, one misstep had nearly trapped her in despair.

The hump chuckled: “Such a beautiful woman—cutting off her head would be a shame.”

The short sword, still Meng Yuchun’s magic treasure, struggled fiercely in the hump’s grip. Meng Yuchun gripped the hump’s wrist, pulling with all her strength.

The shadow on the ground tried to shake off the ink.

Hululululu!

Bei Wushuang roared repeatedly. Meng Yuchun felt a cold wind rush into her mind, the sound echoing, the wind swirling endlessly.

Sound Cultivation Technique: Echoing Wind.

Meng Yuchun’s body went limp. She couldn’t match the hump’s strength. Her knees buckled—she was about to collapse.

The hump raised the short sword and laughed: “Little beauty, don’t be afraid. Your sword’s fast. Stretch out your neck, stay still—

I promise it won’t hurt at all.”

Bang!

Before the hump could strike, Bei Wushuang was kicked flat by the shadow.

The hump crashed hard, the sword flying from its grip. The shadow picked it up and tossed it to Meng Yuchun, then turned to Bei Wushuang: “Didn’t you just say it wouldn’t hurt? You look like you’re in pain!”

Bei Wushuang gasped, roaring at his navel: “How did the shadow stand up?!”

The navel looked down—the shadow was still trapped: “That… that’s not the same shadow!”

Bei Wushuang glanced at Meng Yuchun. He hadn’t expected her Solitary Shadow technique had improved so much—she could now summon two shadows at once.

Meng Yuchun had just broken free from Echoing Wind. She stared at Bei Wushuang with grave seriousness.

Bei Wushuang leapt forward, toward the shadow. His navel spat more ink.

The shadow dodged—vanished. The ink missed.

How was the shadow so fast?

Was this Meng Yuchun’s shadow?

Meng Yuchun stood motionless. If Bei Wushuang thought it was hers, then let him believe it.

Bei Wushuang waited, but the shadow didn’t reappear. He snorted, preparing to use his Sound Cultivation technique.

Huh—pulululu—the sound suddenly distorted. Bei Wushuang’s nose exploded, flesh and blood shredded, breath spurting out in a string of bloody bubbles.

The navel shouted: “There’s a Traveler Cultivator nearby—go!”

Banfeng Yi reappeared, kicking Bei Wushuang in the stomach: “You know there’s a Traveler Cultivator—and you still want to run?!”

The navel spat a blob of ink, binding Banfeng Yi.

Bei Wushuang spat blood, preparing to use Blood-Splatter Resonance.

“Miiii—”

The cry never escaped. Banfeng Zi, wielding Tang Dao, slit Bei Wushuang’s throat.

How did another shadow appear?!

Why didn’t we notice this shadow before?!

Bei Wushuang’s navel spat more ink, trapping Banfeng Zi. Banfeng Yin, wielding a sickle, sliced open Bei Wushuang’s belly from below.

A torrent of ink poured down, threaded with countless silver strands.

The silver strands and ink wove into a net, binding every shadow on the ground. Several silver threads climbed Bei Wushuang’s neck, stitching his wound shut.

“Cowardly rats!” A laugh echoed from Bei Wushuang’s belly. “Let’s see what other tricks you have!”

His voice grew fainter.

He risked his life to control four shadows—his combat prowess was impressive.

But now he saw dozens of shadows standing around him—this situation was extraordinary.

These shadows weren’t Meng Yuchun’s. From their expressions, even Meng Yuchun herself didn’t know their origin.

Bei Wushuang scanned the shadows, searching for a gap to escape.

Banfeng effortlessly tore himself free from the ground and smiled at Bei Wushuang: “Don’t bother looking—we’ve made room for you.”

As soon as he spoke, the shadows automatically parted to form a path.

Bei Wushuang trembled violently—he was terrified.

Meng Yuchun trembled too, but with excitement.

Li Banfeng walked forward along the path, lifting the brim of his hat to study Bei Wushuang’s face.

“No need to speak—you’re still the same old bastard,” Li Banfeng slapped Bei Wushuang’s face.

He looked down at Bei Wushuang’s belly.

“You talk like an old man and love putting on airs—you’re Lu Maoxian, aren’t you? Grandmaster Lu?”

The silver threads and ink all retracted into the camel’s belly; the camel’s belly shook more violently than its head.

Li Banfeng turned his gaze to the hump—the smooth hump had no hair and remained utterly still.

“Just looking at that hump reminds me of your bald head, Shen Dajinyin—how have you been?”

Bei Wushuang tried to flee, but Li Banfeng glanced at him; each of his four hooves strained in a different direction, and Bei Wushuang crashed back to the ground.

Li Banfeng crouched before Bei Wushuang and asked: “First, tell me where you came from—slowly, and don’t get anything wrong.”