Chapter 829: Those Who Dare to Fight, Stay

Li Banfeng asked A Yu to open a gap in the boundary line, then crossed over to Jianren Gang to fetch his wife and Jiu’er.

Jiu’er had it truly hard—the third enemy force was fighting fiercely, while the second force had already rushed to join the third.

Only the first enemy force remained being led on a merry chase by Jiu’er.

Li Banfeng quietly retrieved his wife and Jiu’er; on the way back, he lavished praise: “We should’ve let those so-called senior elders see just how capable our Jiu’er is!”

Jiu’er blinked in surprise: “What senior elders?”

Li Banfeng told his wife and Jiu’er about the fierce battle just now; Jiu’er shook her head: “Husband, take me home. I don’t want to see them.”

“What’s there to fear? We don’t owe them anything—they owe you!”

Jiu’er smiled and shook her head: “Husband, you still don’t understand these seniors. I’m from Fool’s City—I was born owing them.”

Zhao Xiaowan added from the side: “Husband, let me go home too. I came from the imperial court—I’m even worse off than Jiu’er.”

Li Banfeng said nothing, his eyes holding a faint chill.

Zhao Xiaowan understood Li Banfeng’s thoughts: “Husband, with a great enemy before us, we can’t afford to dwell on minor issues.

It’s fine if my sisters endure a little hardship; later, we’ll bring Yingying back too. Family matters can always be settled—we can’t let Yingying cause trouble out there.”

Li Banfeng said: “Yingying didn’t cause trouble—she just risked her life for Pulu Province!”

Old Tea Pot chimed in: “Old Seven, we really want to go home and rest. My tea’s all dried up—I need to go back and refill.

Hongying’s tired too; she’s a household spirit, perfect for returning home to heal.

You just said Old Ku came—she’s stubborn, insists on her own logic. Don’t argue with her, and don’t let Hongying argue either—it won’t matter who wins or loses.”

Near the boundary, Li Banfeng contacted the projector and Yuan Miaoping.

Yuan Miaoping said: “I’ll go home and hide too—this scene would be too awkward for me.”

Li Banfeng asked: “What’s so awkward?”

“Old Ku and Huan Wuchang are there, Song Shu is there, and the Hand-in-Hand Alliance sent plenty. If I show up, which side am I on?”

“We fought together—we’re all on the same side.”

“Impossible!” Yuan Miaoping puckered her gum, blew a medium-sized bubble, then sucked it back in. “Let me be clear: I can show up, but I stand behind you, only backing you. The Hand-in-Hand Alliance has nothing to do with me from now on.”

Everyone crossed the boundary; his wife took Jiu’er, the projector, and Old Tea Pot back to the Portable Dwelling. Li Banfeng and Yuan Miaoping arrived at camp.

The camp was a makeshift cluster of earthen huts built by Old Fire Truck and Ai Yi, about a hundred rooms total. Li Banfeng said: “We didn’t bring this many people, did we?”

Ai Yi smiled: “People haven’t all arrived yet—more will trickle in over the next few days. I’ll go greet them. If you don’t see me, don’t worry—I’ll show up the moment battle starts.”

Li Banfeng noticed Ai Yi’s tone was off: “What happened?”

Yuan Miaoping chuckled beside him: “What could happen? Got annoyed by those old bastards, obviously.”

Ai Yi glanced at Yuan Miaoping, fiddled with her antenna—these two knew each other; Ai Yi had once tried rescuing Yuan Miaoping from the Shadow Star Bureau.

“What nonsense are you spouting? How could I be annoyed by senior elders? Look how pleasant they are—I love chatting with them, catching up.”

Ai Yi squeezed a little too hard; Yuan Miaoping flinched back: “Crazy woman, don’t break my antenna! If you’re mad, don’t take it out on me!”

Ai Yi gritted her teeth: “I’m not mad. I get along great with them. I just want to invite them to Hulucun for a meal.

I’ll treat them to the best explosives—each one gets a bowl. One bang, and they won’t have a single complaint left!”

Autumn Leaves walked up: “Sounds good—I’ll go get the explosives right now!”

Li Banfeng said: “Brother Qiu, are you mad too?”

“Heh!” Autumn Leaves gave a bitter laugh. “All these years, I thought I’d mellowed—but within three sentences, they still set me off.

Ai Yi and I will go greet the guests. If I really bring the explosives, remind those old bastards to keep their mouths shut—or I’ll blow them first!”

The couple stormed off, furious.

Li Banfeng was about to find Yuan Miaoping a barracks when Song Shu walked over from the opposite side: “Disciple bows to the Ancestor!”

Song Shu performed a full bow to Yuan Miaoping, who snapped: “Why bow to me? Don’t you know the rules?”

Song Shu was startled—bowing to the Ancestor was against the rules?

Yuan Miaoping pointed at Li Banfeng: “I’m now with the Portable Dwelling Gang. This is my boss. I’m his hall master. From now on, bow to the boss first, then to me.”

Song Shu stared, stunned: “Ancestor, what Portable Dwelling Gang?”

Yuan Miaoping sized up Song Shu: “What? Didn’t get it? Let me say it simpler—I’ve joined another gang. I’m following Brother Li now. I’m done with the Hand-in-Hand Alliance. Understand now?”

Song Shu stared at Yuan Miaoping, then turned to Li Banfeng.

Li Banfeng was also surprised when Su Chanchin, the Phantom Cult Ancestor, stepped out of an earthen hut, smiling: “Young Master Seven, you’ve finally arrived. I’ve missed you so much I couldn’t eat or sleep.”

Huan Wuchang, the Illusion Cult Ancestor, also emerged: “Young Master Seven, impressive! Even the Electric Cult Ancestor bows to you. If we don’t join you too, won’t we seem ungrateful?”

Liu Hutian, the Wine Cult Ancestor, pulled aside the curtain: “Little Seven, come inside. We’ve all been waiting for you.”

Li Banfeng didn’t want to go in—he had no interest in talking to them now.

The Portable Dwelling reminded him from behind: “Seven, don’t throw a tantrum. Gathering these people together isn’t easy. We still need them in battle—don’t let morale break.”

Li Banfeng entered the hut. A chilling aura of killing intent made him shiver.

The room was large, but only two windows—normally dim and oppressive. Yet where did this killing intent come from?

It came from Hongying. Seeing her pale, bluish face, Li Banfeng knew she’d been wronged.

Yuan Miaoping hurried over: “Second Young Mistress, we of the Portable Dwelling Gang are magnanimous—we don’t hold grudges.

Now that our boss is here, let him handle things with them. Let’s two sisters go for a walk.”

Yuan Miaoping persuaded Hongying away and slipped out herself.

Li Qi had just sat down when Zhen Luoming, the Spy Cult Master, spoke first: “The battle’s over—we fought united and won. But we lost many Hardship Cultivators at Kucaizhuang, and I lost several disciples too.

Others may not have lost lives, but all are wounded. Isn’t it time we talked about this?”

Li Banfeng didn’t know Zhen Luoming well, but during battle, he’d already disliked him—this man had shouted wildly and nearly disrupted discipline.

“What do you want to talk about?” Li Banfeng asked directly.

Zhen Luoming blinked: “What? You don’t want me to speak?”

“Isn’t that exactly what I’m letting you do?”

Zhen Luoming said: “I’d like to ask Young Master Seven on everyone’s behalf: Pulu Province suffered a massive loss, lost so much territory—where is our master? Where’s the Peddler?”

Liu Hutian added: “True. The Inner State has invaded our borders—surely the Peddler knows by now?”

Su Chanchin sighed: “Has he gone to Wansheng Province again? I don’t understand why he loves Wansheng so much.

Does he have a lover there?”

Zhen Luoming snorted: “All he does is chase women. Can he even handle running Pulu Province?”

Xu Han tapped his pipe: “How’s that? If he can’t, can you?”

Zhen Luoming snorted: “Old Xu, I know you’ll defend the Peddler. I won’t claim I can handle Pulu Province,

but today I’m here—I made it to Wuyouping. That alone makes me better than the Peddler!”

Xu Han sneered: “If Young Master Seven hadn’t sent word, how’d you even get to Wuyouping?”

“I was wondering that myself,” Zhen Luoming glanced at Li Qi. “How does Young Master Seven always get such timely intel?”

*Clang!*

Xu Han slammed his pipe down: “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gui Jianchou chuckled: “Can’t you tell? He’s accusing our Little Seven of treason!”

Zhen Luoming waved his hand: “I wouldn’t dare say such nonsense. We’ve had no contact with the Inner State. We’re not Prince Pingyuan—who’s the traitor? I don’t know.”

“Bullshit!” Xu Han’s veins bulged; his face turned red as someone beside him tugged at his sleeve.

Gui Jianchou kept smiling: “Don’t be modest—you recently caused a ruckus at Moxiang Shop. Didn’t the Inner State offer you a princely title?”

Zhen Luoming flushed, glancing at Liu Hutian.

Liu Hutian sipped his wine and said to Gui Jianchou: “Smiling Ghost, your Ancestor was just killed. Do you know who did it?”

Gui Jianchou feigned surprise: “How did my Ancestor die? Did he go cause trouble at Moxiang Shop too?

What’s so special about that place? I heard even a lowly Earth Cultivator named Shao Ying could boss you around. Don’t you feel humiliated staying there?”

Bing Suling, the Cold Cult Ancestor, laughed: “Less humiliating than you, crawling to Sun Tiecheng in Fool’s City as his third grandson!”

Ye Jianhuang said: “Debts must be paid. I see nothing wrong with that.”

Zhen Luoming chuckled: “Almost forgot—here’s another grandson.”

Ye Jianhuang clenched his teeth, silent. Li Banfeng rubbed his gloves: “Brother, how much explosive do you still have?”

If not for the many allies present, Li Banfeng would’ve blown them all to bits.

Zhen Luoming asked: “Young Master Seven, who were you just talking to?”

Li Banfeng lifted his hat brim and smiled at Zhen Luoming: “I just chatted with Elder Chang Juhai and Elder Qi Wujian. They said they were bored and wanted someone to talk to.”

Li Banfeng lifted the brim of his hat and smiled at Zhen Luo Ming: "I just chatted for a bit with Elders Chang Jiuhai and Qi Wujian; they said they were bored and wanted someone to talk with."

Zhen Luoming glanced at Liu Hutian, who bowed his head, pouring himself more wine. Su Chanchin stared at Feng Xuanzhen’s embroidery. Huan Wuchang and Shang Yuwei, the Sound Cult Master, whispered quietly.

Old Ku spoke: “Today’s battle’s over—it may not have looked pretty, but we won.

Little Seven was the first to spot the enemy—that’s Pulu Province’s achievement. We must remember this.

Everyone who risked their life on the battlefield has earned merit. Others may forget, but I, this old woman, remember. Anyone who comes to Kucaizhuang asking for my help—I’ll help without hesitation!”

Liu Hutian praised: “Listen, everyone—only a true leader speaks like this.”

Old Ku continued: “The Inner State’s army still looms before us. Let’s stay a few more days, observe their movements.

War isn’t easy—it consumes troops and supplies. The Inner State can’t sustain this long. Let’s wait until their forces scatter before we leave.”

“Fine!” Zhen Luoming shouted. “I follow Old Sister’s lead!”

Old Fire Truck glanced at Li Banfeng and sighed: “Little Seven, look how smoothly they pluck the peaches.”

No one else spoke—Old Ku’s words were perfectly reasonable.

The others said nothing more, because Old Ku’s words themselves were not wrong.

Li Banfeng looked at the crowd and said, “The old lady is right—we really need you all to stay a few more days; this battle isn’t over.” His words ended, and the room erupted in uproar.

Zhen Luoming said, “What do you mean? You want us to help you reclaim lost territory? That’s impossible—we’re not strong enough against them.”

Li Banfeng shook his head. “This border won’t hold much longer—five days at most, three at least—it’ll vanish.”

“Then we’ll have to fight a bloody battle with Huineizhou.”

The room fell silent again. Ku Po remained speechless. Lao Huochē looked at Li Banfeng. “Is this true?”

Li Banfeng nodded. “Absolutely.”

Liu Hutian rubbed his wine flask. “We can’t fight anymore—this, truly, we can’t fight—”

Li Banfeng asked, “What else can we do?”

“We need to think this through carefully,” Liu Hutian glanced around, then wiped his wine flask several times.

Shang Yuwei, the Master of the Shengxiu Sect, asked, “Seventh Master, you’re not testing us, are you?”

Li Banfeng scanned the crowd. “I’m not testing anyone. The border truly won’t hold much longer. This battle truly isn’t over.”

Zhen Luoming stammered for a moment. “Then, then we can’t fight again—what if we retreat a little?”

Lao Huochē frowned. “This is Wuyou Ping—how much of Puluozhou does it connect to? Where exactly do you think we can retreat to?”

Sui Chanxin said, “Even if we can’t retreat, we can still negotiate. Ku Jie just said it right—war isn’t easy.”

“I doubt Huineizhou wants to keep fighting either. Let’s just talk to them.”

Qiao Wuzui gulped down a mouthful of yellow wine. “How do you propose we talk? What leverage do we have?”

Sui Chanxin shot him a look. “Don’t ask me—I’m just a woman, what do I know?”

Ye Jianhuang bit his pipe. “Talking’s useless—we still have to fight!”

Liu Hutian shook his head repeatedly. “If you want to fight, go ahead—I’m an old man, I can’t take it.”

Lu Qianjiao said, “If we don’t fight, what then? Are we just going to hand over all of Puluozhou?”

Bing Suling, the Ancestor of the Hanxiu Sect, said, “It depends how you look at it—this land was originally imperial territory.”

Lu Qianjiao flew into a rage. “What are you suggesting? Sell Puluozhou to the imperial court?”

Bing Suling remained calm. “That’s exactly my point! You’re his lover—you fight for him, fine. We’re strangers to him. Why should we die for him?”

The group argued all night, leaving Li Banfeng restless and irritated.

The next morning, they gathered again, still arguing. They split into three factions: one for peace, one for war, one for fighting while negotiating.

Li Banfeng didn’t want to listen to their nonsense. He barely held out until noon, when Qiu Luoye entered the room and whispered in his ear, “Old Seven, Wu and the others are here.”

At those words, Li Banfeng’s heart instantly brightened.

He stood up immediately and walked out without looking back. In the courtyard, Ma Wu, Qin Tianjiu, Chu Er, and Lu Chunying were waiting.

Ma Wu said, “Old Seven, all the brothers are assembled.”

Qin Tianjiu said, “Seventh Brother, the brothers from San Ying Men have arrived. Zhang Xiuling and the brothers from Baihua Men are on their way!”

Lu Chunying said, “The Lu family is here too. Brother Qiu said he’ll arrive tomorrow. Brother Zhang Wanlong and the others are coming with him! Xiù’s group is nearly here too!”

Chu Er said, “Seventh Brother, I’ve also—”

Li Banfeng cut in. “Why are you here? Didn’t I tell you I had urgent business?”

He was still waiting for Chu Er to contact Huolong.

Huolong said, “Her urgent matter is done. Now it’s time to talk about ours. Zhang Wanlong, don’t come to Wuyou Ping.” The crowd gasped. Everyone except Li Banfeng stepped back—they hadn’t even noticed Huolong’s sudden appearance.

Li Banfeng let out a bitter laugh. “Brother, you’ve finally arrived!”

Huolong smiled. “Did you get mistreated? The elders are old—talking to them takes patience.”

Li Banfeng said, “I’ve been patient. But some of them we can’t afford. Besides, the border won’t hold much longer—only three to five days.”

Huolong glanced toward the border. “This is Wuyou Ping. For her to create even this border is already difficult. Three to five days isn’t short.”

“If all else fails, release her true self. The border she creates herself would last longer.”

Li Banfeng looked around, lowered his voice. “If you release her true self, what happens to you? Won’t you have to fight to the death when you meet?”

Huolong frowned. “I said release her only if we have no other choice. We still have options. Go inside and talk to them.”

The peddler pushed open the door and entered the room; everyone fell silent instantly.

Huolong pushed open the door and entered. The room fell instantly silent.

Standing in the center, he scanned the crowd and smiled. “Gentlemen, it’s been a long time.”

Shi Ba Lun and Xu Han both smiled.

Lu Qianjiao blushed deeply, her posture straightening.

Tou Youlu snorted. “Look how happy you are. Tell me, where am I worse than him?”

Lu Qianjiao turned and glared at Tou Youlu. “Who are you talking to?”

Tou Youlu felt wronged. He pulled out paper and pen and wrote: “I just can’t stand women who change their minds. Yesterday they were sweet to me, today they pretend not to know me. We have no fate.”

Zhen Luoming, the Master of the Kuixiu Sect, paused, then asked Huolong, “Boss, may I ask—where have you been?”

Li Banfeng waited for this question. Today, he wanted them to understand what Huolong had been doing—how much he’d carried alone.

Huolong looked at Zhen Luoming. “I went out for a walk. Mainly to clear my head.”

Li Banfeng stared, stunned. What kind of answer was that?

He’d gone to Baiji Meng to pay off debts. Why didn’t he tell them?

Huolong said no more. He pulled up a chair and sat down.

Ku Po said, “Old Seven must have told you—the Wuyou Ping border won’t hold. We don’t know who the enemy army is, and we can’t defeat them. What’s your decision—fight or negotiate?”

Huolong looked at the crowd. “I just walked through the enemy camp. I gathered some intelligence. Their army comes from Da Tugeng. Each soldier bears Da Tugeng’s mark—they’re warriors forged from corpses and flesh.”

“Their memories were erased, but some weren’t fully wiped. I restored fragments of their memories and learned some truths.”

At the mention of Da Tugeng, the room exploded in chatter. Bing Suling said, “Didn’t you destroy Da Tugeng?”

Huolong nodded. “I destroyed one. But I didn’t expect Qiao Yi to make another.”

“He’s invested heavily—he wants to become emperor. He must swallow Puluozhou to secure his throne.”

“This negotiation is impossible. Qiao Yi has turned Puluozhou into his imperial currency. We must fight.”

Liu Hutian asked, “How do we fight? Can we even win? Do you know how strong those soldiers are?”

Huolong nodded. “I tested two of them. Each soldier’s strength equals a Ground God of Yunshang Level One.”

Sui Chanxin said, “Brother Huolong, then why fight? I heard they have over twenty thousand.”

Huolong shook his head. “More than twenty thousand. From what I’ve seen, nearly fifty thousand—this excludes casualties from the previous battle.”

Feng Xuanzhen put down her embroidery. Liu Hutian put down his wine flask.

Many in the room prepared to leave.

Fifty thousand.

Many had lost all hope. But Huolong spoke clearly: “Those who want to leave—I won’t stop you. But Puluozhou will never welcome you again.”

“Those who dare to fight—stay with me. We drove Huineizhou out before. Let’s drive them out again.”

Everyone turned to Zhen Luoming, hoping he’d be the first to leave.

He talked too much and was rude—but he didn’t leave. He looked at Ku Po.

Ku Po looked at Huolong. “Fine. We followed you before. We’ll follow you again. Tell us how to fight.”

Huolong said, “That’s easy. You’ve all fought with me before. On the battlefield, we’ll have our ways.”

“But Qiao Yi left a backdoor—he made an alliance with Tufang. The Tufang Demon Lord plans to lead his army against Suihuangyuan.”

Huolong hadn’t gone to Baiji Meng just to pay debts—he’d gathered vital intelligence:

“Suihuangyuan is guarded only by Yao Xin. His troops are Tiegu Zhong, barely trained.”

“If Suihuangyuan falls, we’ll be attacked from both front and rear. Who’s willing to reinforce Suihuangyuan?”

“I’ll say it plainly—we can’t split our forces. Whoever goes to Suihuangyuan must find their own men.”

The room fell silent. No one wanted to go to Suihuangyuan.

Here, they fought as a group, following Huolong’s lead. To reinforce Suihuangyuan meant no backup, no retreat—facing Tufang alone meant certain death.

Li Banfeng spoke up. “I’ll take my people to Suihuangyuan. We leave today.”

“Good!” Huolong nodded at Li Qi. With Li Qi holding one flank, his heart eased significantly.

Huolong continued: “In Shangguo, only one unit of the Dangkou Army remains—the Cuihuo Camp. I’ve received word—they’re preparing to strike Baishun County.”

“If Baishun falls, Huineizhou will invade through San Tou Cha. Who’s willing to reinforce Baishun?”

This was why Huolong had forbidden Zhang Wanlong from coming—Baishun County was in extreme danger.

Still, no one spoke. In this situation, Huolong wouldn’t split forces. No one wanted to face the Cuihuo Camp alone.

Xu Han stood. “I’ll go. I’ve got a bad temper—I’m afraid I’ll hurt these old friends. I just came from Baishun. Going back is perfect.”

The old man was stubborn. He turned and left. He walked to Qiao Wuzui, lowered his voice. “If I don’t come back, you watch over Yaowang Gou.”

“What nonsense are you talking? I’m going with you!” Qiao Wuzui reached for his wine bottle. Xu Han pushed him back into his chair and walked out alone.

At the door, Xu Han suddenly stopped.

He opened the door, bowed respectfully, and invited an old man inside. He pulled out a chair for him. “Teacher, please sit here.”

Ku Po looked up, startled. “Old Ju, how did you get here?”

A Yi chuckled behind her. “I brought him.”

The Ju Yuan Elder had arrived.

Li Qi stood immediately to greet him. Everyone rose.

The Ju Yuan Elder waved his hand. “No time for formalities. I need to speak with Huolong.”

The Orange Garden Elder waved his hand and said, “I don’t have time for your formalities—I need to speak a word with the peddler.”

He walked up to the peddler and said, “Dividing the troops into three routes may not work; there’s a path from Jianren Gang that leads to Qunying Mountain.”

The peddler gasped, “Where did such a path come from?”

The Orange Garden Elder said, “I asked the earth—it just opened up.”

PS: Who can guard Qunying Mountain?