Chapter 87: Who Can Outlast Whom!

The helmsman Shi Boyu returned to the helm chamber and sat in the hall in silence.

Zhong Desong had met with trouble, and this left Shi Boyu deeply agitated.

Another headman from the Second Helm had been lost, making him feel humiliated before the Hall Master.

But it was only agitation—he wasn’t angry. In his roster, these headmen were destined to be eliminated anyway.

Honggun Xiang Guicheng had always been hostile to him; this man deserved to die most.

Xunfeng Du Hongxi was no better than Xiang Guicheng, and this man was already dead.

The Sage Zhong Desong appeared calm on the surface, but whenever recommending talent, he never consulted Shi Boyu—clearly, he held no respect for the helmsman.

Even his trusted confidant Sun Xiaoan, Shi Boyu couldn’t trust; every time he saw Sun puffing his water pipe, Shi Boyu couldn’t guess his thoughts.

All these men had been slowly poisoned by Shi Boyu’s toxin; those who obeyed lived a few more years, those who defied him would soon be on their way out.

But Zhong Desong’s sudden mishap left Shi Boyu utterly baffled.

The Immortal Music Dance Hall had been blown up; the Hall Master of the Medicine King Hall believed it wasn’t done by Yu Nan or Qin Tianjiu.

Someone else was behind it—someone whose cunning and skill far surpassed Yu Nan and Qin Tianjiu.

Following the Hall Master’s orders, Shi Boyu immediately quelled the incident and began secretly investigating clues to the killer.

According to the Hall Master’s deduction, the killer would soon lower his guard and reveal himself.

But the opponent didn’t reveal himself—he drew his blade instead.

Now the killer still hadn’t shown his hand, yet Zhong Desong had already fallen.

No body, no trace—could the same person have done both?

Why would this person target Zhong Desong directly? Was he insane?

Where could this person be now?

Still in Li Gou?

How could he be found?

As he pondered, Shi Boyu suddenly felt a wave of stifling heat and ordered his junior attendant (helmsman’s personal aide) to open the window.

One junior attendant approached the window, reaching out—but his hand never touched the glass.

He dared not speak, only strained to push against an invisible wall.

Shi Boyu glared impatiently toward the window; a senior headman snapped: “I told you to open the window—why are you taking so long? Can’t you even…”

Before he finished, the senior headman noticed a patch of water beneath his feet.

“What kind of water…”

One junior attendant sniffed the odor and cried out: “It’s tea! It’s Old Zhong’s magic treasure!”

Shi Boyu had never seen Old Zhong’s magic treasure—he’d only heard of it from Sun Xiaoan.

That treasure was extremely powerful; Zhong Desong had once used it to kill a third-layer cultivator and severely wound a fourth-layer one—it couldn’t be confronted head-on.

Shi Boyu shouted urgently: “Quick, get outside and take cover!”

His subordinates didn’t move.

Shi Boyu roared: “Are you all deaf?!”

He turned to leave the hall, but an invisible wall blocked the doorway. Stunned, he heard a junior attendant behind him say: “Helmsman, we’re trapped by Old Zhong’s magic treasure—we can’t get out. His…”

Mid-sentence, the attendant screamed and leapt onto the table—scalding tea had burned his feet.

Dozens of subordinates cried out in agony, some leaping onto sofas, others onto tables.

Shi Boyu moved slowly; two subordinates dragged him onto the table, and blisters rose on his soles.

Li Banfeng crouched on the ceiling beam, finding the scene peculiar.

According to Manager Feng, Shi Boyu was a Honggun who had taken over as helmsman in Medicine King Gully.

Hongguns handle violence—why was Shi Boyu’s combat skill so poor?

Was it because his cultivation base was too low?

Shi Boyu’s cultivation base wasn’t low—he was a third-layer cultivator.

But he wasn’t a Wu Xiu, Lv Xiu, or Ti Xiu—those with strong physical prowess. He was a third-layer Poison Xiu.

Shi Boyu stood atop the table and shouted: “Does anyone know how to break this magic treasure?”

The senior headman yelled: “Find the person holding the teapot, seize it, and stop him from touching it—otherwise, we can’t break the spell!”

Sun Xiaoan had once told Shi Boyu the countermeasure, but in his panic, he’d forgotten.

Hearing the senior headman’s words, he remembered—but where was the teapot?

It must be in the enemy’s hands.

Where was the enemy?

Shi Boyu didn’t know!

“Zhu, listen for sounds!”

Shi Boyu had a personal bodyguard named Kou Zhu, a first-layer Kui Xiu.

Kou Zhu listened for a long time—heard nothing.

Li Banfeng was a second-layer Zhai Xiu; using his innate talent for being overlooked, he evaded Kou Zhu’s acute hearing.

The water level kept rising; disciples standing on sofas now had their feet burned to pulp.

One disciple screamed and fell into the tea, struggled twice, his flesh sloughed off, and he fell silent instantly.

The water neared the table’s edge; the senior headman had initially shielded Helmsman Shi Boyu, but seeing Shi had no plan to escape, he turned to his own survival.

A red-spotted hard shell sprouted from the senior headman’s back, beneath which two black wings unfolded.

Hum!

The senior headman transformed into a ladybug, his feet lifting off the ground as he flew upward.

He could protect himself—he wouldn’t die.

Unless Li Banfeng kept raising the water level until it reached the ceiling.

But the one holding the teapot was also trapped in this sealed space—if the water kept rising, Li Banfeng would scald himself to death.

The senior headman looked down, watching the already-dead Zhu and the helmsman soon to be scalded.

If the helmsman died, he’d surely be implicated.

But no matter the consequences, it was better than being boiled alive here.

If all else failed, he’d flee—live one more day, one more day.

“Ahh~~” Kou Zhu screamed and died in the scalding water.

The senior headman sighed—then felt his wings grow heavier.

He couldn’t fly anymore.

Why couldn’t he fly?

The senior headman fixed his gaze on the helmsman.

Helmsman Shi Boyu was releasing poison.

To find the teapot, you must first find the one holding it.

If you can’t find the one holding it, poison him to death.

Shi Boyu’s tactic was clear.

But his poison would kill everyone in the room.

Did it matter?

To Shi Boyu, it didn’t matter.

The lives of others had never mattered to him.

Splash~

A faint sound came from the ceiling.

Shi Boyu looked up and saw a woman with flamboyant makeup, dressed in men’s clothing, crouched on the beam.

Yu Nan?

Was it really her?

It wasn’t Yu Nan—it was Li Banfeng.

Li Banfeng, who had been crouching on the beam, could no longer hold on—he nearly fell.

He’d been poisoned; the third-layer Poison Xiu’s technique nearly robbed him of consciousness.

He clung to the beam using his Lv Xiu talent, still rubbing the teapot nonstop.

Li Banfeng’s plan was simple: now it was a test of endurance—who could outlast whom.

The teapot still spewed water; the room’s water level kept rising, scalding tea now flooded the table and seeped into Shi Boyu’s shoes.

Shi Boyu gritted his teeth against the pain and ordered the senior headman to kill the woman on the beam.

The senior headman’s face turned greenish; he glanced at Li Banfeng—his wings suddenly stopped flapping, and he plunged headfirst into the tea.

Zhai Xiu had natural resistance to toxins; Li Banfeng, a second-layer Zhai Xiu, struggled to endure it—how could a first-layer Ti Xiu like the senior headman possibly hold out?

Seeing the senior headman fall beside his feet, Shi Boyu snatched him from the hot tea, placed him on the table, then stood atop him to buy himself precious time.

Li Banfeng pulled a bloodstained pair of scissors from his waist and hurled it at Shi Boyu.

It was a sentient weapon—if thrown even remotely true, it could sever Shi Boyu’s head.

Shi Boyu fished another corpse from the tea and held it before himself.

The scissors sheared off the corpse’s head, and the head tumbled into the scalding tea.

This was the difference between a sentient weapon and a magic treasure.

Cutting off a head completed the mission; the scissors didn’t care whose head it was.

Shi Boyu spat a cloud of poison at Li Banfeng.

Li Banfeng leaped and dodged along the rafters, but soon realized dodging was pointless.

The magic treasure was still active; beneath the invisible wall, the space was so small the poison spread quickly.

The sensation of poisoning on Kuwu Mountain returned—dizziness, fatigue, blurred vision, poor coordination…

Li Banfeng dared not move further; he might fall from the rafters at any moment.

How had he endured it on Kuwu Mountain back then?

He hadn’t endured it.

When that condition struck back then, Li Banfeng had already collapsed and retreated straight into his Personal Dwelling.

Not just him—most people, except Fatty, couldn’t endure it.

Fatty…

Right—Fatty’s blood!

Fatty’s blood was inside the pendulum; Li Banfeng unscrewed it and drank the blood directly.

The dizziness eased noticeably; Li Banfeng strained to rub the teapot.

The water level kept rising, submerging Da Jiu’s body; Shi Boyu dragged over another corpse, stood on it, and continued poisoning Li Banfeng.

Li Banfeng drank more blood, but the effect was far less pronounced this time.

Fatty was a Level One Food Cultivator; his blood strengthened the body, but it couldn’t purge poison.

There was a vast gap between Level One and Level Three; the rate of physical strengthening paled against the speed of poison erosion.

Shi Boyu kept hauling corpses from around him, piling them under his feet; the pile grew taller and began to wobble.

Watching Shi Boyu stagger, Li Banfeng considered closing in and kicking him into the water.

A green fluid seeped from Shi Boyu’s body, dripping to his feet and spreading across the corpses.

The corpses seemed coated in glue, sticking tightly together.

What technique was this?

Glue Cultivator?

Li Banfeng was stunned.

It wasn’t a Glue Cultivator—it was Shi Boyu’s poison corroding the corpses, fusing their flesh and bones together.

Experienced in countless battles, Shi Boyu still devised a countermeasure under such dire conditions.

The poison fluid was far more potent than the poison mist; if Li Banfeng dared approach, even a single drop would kill him instantly.

Seeing Li Banfeng drain the last of the blood from the pendulum, Shi Boyu hauled up the final corpse within reach.

Li Banfeng’s face turned greenish-blue; he couldn’t hold on any longer.

Shi Boyu smiled—he had won.

Watching the speed of the rising water, Shi Boyu was certain the beautiful woman would fall from the rafters before the water submerged the last corpse.

Once this person died, the magic treasure would naturally deactivate.

“If you don’t want to scald yourself to death, retract the teapot. Once you fall, it’ll be too late to regret.” Shi Boyu smiled at Li Banfeng.

Li Banfeng did not retract the teapot—he threw it into the water.

Shi Boyu froze, confused by Li Banfeng’s action.

His gaze locked onto the teapot; he longed to snatch it up immediately.

Li Banfeng seized the opportunity, pulled out his key, and returned to his Personal Dwelling.

The teapot was too far; Shi Boyu couldn’t reach it.

He looked up and realized Li Banfeng had vanished.

Where did he go? How did he disappear?

Shi Boyu looked down—water level still rising.

Wasn’t the teapot already in the water?

The teapot had indeed fallen in, but it took five to six minutes before it stopped releasing water—that was the magic treasure’s property.

Shi Boyu screamed in despair: “Someone! Anyone! Come quickly! Bring me the teapot—hurry!”

He was a core member of Jiang Xiang’s Guild, promoted to Level Three in his early thirties, appointed as Helmsman—his future was bright.

He enjoyed the Chief’s deep trust; he believed he would achieve great things in Yaowang Gou.

Boiling tea water rose over the corpses, over his ankles.

Shi Boyu, unable to bear the agony, leapt up.

In that leap, the glued-together corpses beneath him collapsed.

Shi Boyu tumbled into the scalding tea water.

Pain—unimaginable pain—as if he’d fallen into a pool of molten iron.

With his Level Three physique, he struggled toward the table; the instant his hand touched it, his skin and flesh peeled away.

If he could capture that man on the rafter, he would gain fame and fortune.

If he captured the outsider the Guild Master sought, he would surely become Chief.

I’m meant to be a Chief—how could I end up like this…?

Shi Boyu lost consciousness in the boiling water.

Li Banfeng vomited repeatedly inside his Personal Dwelling.

PS: Saturday morning is so beautiful, dear readers—say hello to Salad.

(End of Chapter)