Before dawn, when the sky was still dark, Wu Yongchao heard a knock at his door. He went out to check and found a beautiful young woman standing right at the entrance.

It was late, far too late for visitors, and yet this pretty girl came knocking on the door. At a glance, she was obviously…painted.

This was Li Banfeng’s work, done with care and intention. It would have fooled most people without a second thought. But Wu Yongchao was no ordinary man. As a level-four Homebound Cultivator who excelled in painting himself, he could see through the trick immediately. To him, the illusion felt almost crude.

The girl stepped forward and handed him two burlap sacks along with a letter.

Wu Yongchao opened the letter and read it. When he finished, he looked up at her and asked, “Where did the Fort Lord go? For something this important, why send you to deliver the message?”

The girl covered her mouth and smiled with her eyes. She didn’t say a word.

Of course she didn’t. Li Banfeng hadn’t painted her a mouth.

***

The next day, Wu Yongchao slung two sacks over his shoulders and slipped quietly out of Iron Gate Fort, heading for a nearby village.

Li Banfeng had made it very clear in his letter. The whole area was being watched. From the gates of the fort all the way to the village, there were eyes everywhere, hidden in plain sight.

This was one of the Jiangxiang Gang’s favorite tricks. On the surface, Iron Gate Fort looked calm and peaceful. But in truth, there were a lot of people nearby.

It was just like Yu’s Cloth Shop back then. Nothing seemed out of place, yet members of a Jiangxiang Gang branch were hidden nearby.

After arriving at the village, Wu Yongchao changed into rough cloth clothes and put on a tattered felt hat. He bought a wheelbarrow from a carpenter, then picked up two sacks of rice from a farmer.

He pushed the sacks of rice along in the wheelbarrow. With more than two kilometers still left before reaching the fort, a man in plain cloth clothes and a straw hat approached him, smiling cheerfully.

“Brother, where are you heading in such a hurry?”

Wu Yongchao lowered his head. “I am selling rice.”

“How much per half a kilogram?”

“Three yuan.” Wu Yongchao deliberately quoted a high price.

“Can I take a look at the goods?”

The man in the straw hat didn’t even give Wu Yongchao the chance to speak. With a quick flick of his wrist, he drew a dagger and slit open the sack. A stream of white rice spilled out onto the ground.

He bent down, scooped up a handful, and rubbed the grains between his fingers. They crumbled easily into powder.

“The rice is of good quality. Three yuan isn’t expensive. I will take it,” the man in the straw hat said as he took out two silver dollars and placed them on the cart.

“I am not selling,” Wu Yongchao said. He shook his head, picked up the money, and held it out to return it.

The straw-hatted man smiled. “Once you have taken the money, the deal is done,” he said. “You have already accepted payment, so it’s too late to say you won’t sell now.”

As a Homebound Cultivator, Wu Yongchao wasn’t good with words and had no desire to argue.

“I am not selling to you!” he shouted, tossing the silver dollars aside before pushing the cart forward.

Without warning, the straw-hatted man lashed out. His leg snapped forward, and with a sharp crack, the wheel of the wheelbarrow shattered under the force of his kick.

The cart overturned with a dull crash, and the sacks burst open as they hit the ground.

Wu Yongchao’s face turned red at once. “You’re bullying me!”

The straw-hatted man didn’t get angry. If anything, he sounded amused. “Now, now, young man, that’s not quite right. You’re selling rice. I’m paying for it. Yet you threw my money onto the ground.” He tilted his head slightly. “So tell me, who’s really bullying who?”

Wu Yongchao didn’t bother answering. He shifted his feet, lowered his stance, and prepared to fight.

The straw-hatted man let out a sharp whistle.

At once, more than a dozen men sprang out from both sides of the road, as if they had been hiding there all along.

“Little brother,” one of them said with a grin, “are you really going to fight? It’s just business. No need to take it so seriously.”

“I will fight you all to the end!” Wu Yongchao charged forward and was soon locked in a tangled fight with the dozen men.

Wu Yongchao’s cultivation was higher than the others, but still below the straw-hatted man’s. Once the dozen men closed in, the pressure mounted quickly. Blows came from all sides, and before long, he had taken a few minor injuries.

That was enough. He didn’t linger. Activating An Arrow Bound for Home, he fled straight back toward Iron Gate Fort.

This had been Li Banfeng’s instruction. Fight them, but stay alive.

The straw-hatted man watched him go, then casually took off his hat and bent down to gather the scattered silver dollars. A faint smile spread across his face.

“I offered him money, and he refused it,” he said with a chuckle. “Now look at him. No rice, no money. He’s the one who lost out.”

One of the men beside him stepped forward and asked, “Hall Master, what should we do with the rice?”

“Keep it. Don’t you need to eat?”

The straw-hatted man was none other than Han Jinwei, the Hall Master of Yellowclay Bridge.

He turned his gaze toward Iron Gate Fort in the distance and said to his men, “Did you see that? That kid’s cultivation isn’t low. And yet, for just two sacks of rice, he was already risking his life.

“Things must be pretty bad inside Iron Gate Fort. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have picked a fight with bandits. They are about to run out of food.

“Keep them trapped for two more days,” he said. “They’ll fall in line soon enough.”

Han Jinwei had the grain gathered up and stacked neatly away before leading his men into a nearby farmhouse to continue their watch.

The place had been rented ahead of time. From inside, you could see everything. The road, the fields, even the slightest movement in the distance. But from the outside, it looked like nothing at all. Just an ordinary, forgettable farmhouse.

This was a really good place for monitoring and ambush.

Wherever they went, the Jiangxiang Gang’s members always managed to secure a foothold like this. It was a skill in itself, one they had clearly mastered.

Han Jinwei glanced around at his men, and spoke in a calm, steady voice, “Remember this. We are here for the item. Not to kill. I came to talk to Iron Gate Fort, not to start a war. So try not to escalate things into an actual huge fight.”

***

A fortune teller, wearing dark glasses and holding a blind man’s cane, walked along the path toward Iron Gate Fort.

A man stepped forward to block him and asked, “What do you do?”

The fortune teller smiled humbly. “I tell fortunes and read characters for people.”

“Is that so?” Many members of the Jiangxiang Gang had backgrounds as wandering fortune tellers. This disciple, Zhu Youduan, carefully examined the man. His tools all looked quite professional.

“Where are you headed to tell fortunes?”

“I heard that Iron Gate Fort is just ahead and that it’s a good place to do business.”

“It’s not a good place anymore. They can’t even afford food now. You better not go there.”

The fortune teller smiled. “Thank you for the reminder.”

It was nothing more than a polite brush-off. He had come all this way to do business. There was no way he would turn back over a single warning.

He continued toward Iron Gate Fort, but Zhu Youduan stepped forward and grabbed him.

“I told you not to go. Why won’t you listen?”

The fortune teller’s expression tightened with alarm. “I’m just minding my own business. What does that have to do with you? What are you—”

Smack!

Zhu Youduan slapped the fortune teller across the face. “Get lost. If you don’t listen, it won’t be just a slap next time.”

The fortune teller clutched his cheek and stumbled away. He walked for several kilometers. Then he sat down by the roadside and burst into tears.

“This is ridiculous! I am just trying to make a living. How did I bother him? That he even hit me…”

He cried for a while. Once he was sure the person tailing him had left, his expression changed. The fortune teller tapped his cane and used the hook to send a message to He Jiaqing.

“The Jiangxiang Gang has surrounded Iron Gate Fort. Should we move before they do, or wait until they’re done and take the item?”

The Jiangxiang Gang?

He Jiaqing let out a short laugh. “Those bastards are joining in on the fun too? Who leaked the news?”

“They are not letting any merchants in. If this keeps up, the Homebound Cultivators in Iron Gate Fort will have nothing to eat.”

He Jiaqing showed a look of disdain. “After all these years, they are still using the same old tricks.”

“I want to speak to whoever’s in charge. They slapped me pretty hard.”

“Old Wan, what’s your cultivation?” He Jiaqing snorted. “What haven’t you seen? Lu Dongjun was a real pain, and you still got through that. We are not sinking to their level. Go watch them first. Don’t do anything reckless.”

“I will follow your orders.”

Han Jinwei, the Hall Master of Yellowclay Bridge, slept soundly in the farmhouse.

The Jiangxiang Gang was a mid-tier gang in Puluo Province. In terms of strength, it far surpassed Flying Eagle Mountain.

Han Jinwei knew Iron Gate Fort was easy to defend and hard to attack. He chose not to attack. He blocked the roads instead.

The Homebound Cultivators of Iron Gate Fort relied on merchants outside for all their food and supplies, and each household made its own purchases.

Homebound Cultivators did not like to trouble others. If one household ran out of food, they would feel too embarrassed to ask others for help. With this tactic of cutting off supplies, it would take less than a month to force Iron Gate Fort to surrender without a fight.

Han Jinwei slept until a little past six in the evening. Then he woke with a jolt.

Something felt wrong. He thought he heard movement.

Years in the jianghu had taught him to be extremely cautious. He rose at once and stepped outside, only to find that the six men who had been stationed there were nowhere to be seen.

Something bad happened!

His men were gone, and there were no bodies. He found traces of blood on the ground, along with a torn sack.

White rice had spilled everywhere. Among the grains lay a sheet of white paper.

He unfolded it and read the two lines written on it:

If you buy rice, you must pay.

If you have no money, pay with your life.

Han Jinwei’s face twisted with fury. His nose swelled. The tip turned black. He bent down and sniffed the scent on the paper.

He was a level-five Physique Cultivator. In his original form, he was human. In his transformed form, he was a wolf.

Han Jinwei caught the faint trail at once. He rushed out the door and followed it all the way to Iron Gate Fort. However, the iron gate, driven by pressurized steam, remained tightly sealed.

Wu Yongchao stood atop the gateframe, smiling down at Han Jinwei. “You are here to pay for the rice, right? Our Fort Lord said two sacks of rice for six lives is about even, so we won’t bother with the small change. If you don’t have enough rice, I can sell you more. Same price as before.”

Han Jinwei clenched his teeth and glared at Wu Yongchao. His eyes glowed green. He had no idea how Wu Yongchao had killed his six subordinates without him noticing.

The truth was that Wu Yongchao had no idea as well. He hadn’t killed them at all. He had only been responsible for delivering the rice. He had no idea that Li Banfeng’s key was hidden inside the sacks of rice.

At this moment, Li Banfeng stood behind the steam-driven gate, waiting for Han Jinwei to launch a fierce attack.

For a split second, Han Jinwei nearly lost control. He almost gathered his men and charged straight at the gate. However, he swallowed the anger and suppressed the impulse. He knew that the Iron Gate Fort was ready and he knew the consequences of forcefully attacking.

As a Hall Master of the Jiangxiang Gang, Han Jinwei could endure this moment of anger. He left. It didn’t matter that he left. Li Banfeng was more than willing to keep playing this game with him.

That very night, Han Jinwei gave the order. Every branch member was to stay on high alert. If they ran into anyone from Iron Gate Fort, they were to kill without mercy. Even in their sleep, they were to keep their eyes open. But would that really make any difference?

Li Banfeng had already walked every nearby road. He knew the terrain better than most of the locals. That night, he captured two Jiangxiang Gang disciples and questioned them. By the time he was done, he had a clear picture of every branch under the Yellowclay Bridge.

Over the next three days, he led several level-four Homebound Cultivators and paid repeated visits to each branch. After three days, every branch had taken a hit. Some lost five or six men. Others lost two or three. None were spared.

From the shadows, the fortune teller watched it all and sent word to He Jiaqing.

He Jiaqing sneered.

This wasn’t something caution could fix. Homebound Cultivators had a nasty little talent. They were easy to miss, easy to ignore, and very hard to catch. Guarding against them was like trying to watch for something you couldn’t quite see.

A direct attack wouldn’t work. Cutting off supplies wouldn’t work either. Iron Gate Fort wasn’t foolish enough to fall for tricks like that.

Xiao Zhenggong, you have been away in the Outer Provinces for too long, He Jiaqing thought. You don’t understand Iron Gate Fort anymore. Sending Han Jinwei here was a mistake from the start. But there is something different with the Homebound Cultivators at Iron Gate Fort.

***

Ten days later, Han Jinwei wanted to leave. He didn’t have much of a choice. Nearly half the men in the hall were already gone.

The Homebound Cultivators of Iron Gate Fort went out every day to buy rice and vegetables. Sometimes they even wandered right under his nose on purpose.

Each time Han Jinwei tried to catch them, he failed. Meanwhile, his men kept getting killed every night.

If this went on, the Yellowclay Bridge hall would be finished.

Han Jinwei didn’t dare report to Xiao Zhenggong. He gathered what remained of his men and prepared to retreat to Yellowclay Bridge. However, leaving wasn’t going to be that easy.

As they passed Flying Eagle Mountain, Han Jinwei suddenly heard a melodious singing voice.

「Beyond the long pavilion, past the ancient road,

Green grasses whisper where the twilight flows.

The evening wind through willow branches sighs,

A fading flute dissolves beneath dimming skies.

Beyond the grave mounds lie more hills. ♪」

Who’s singing? Why does it make me feel so irritated? Han Jinwei thought. His cultivation was high enough that the song only made him annoyed.

His subordinates were not so fortunate. Level-three cultivators felt dizzy, level-two cultivators crouched by the roadside vomiting, and level-one cultivators lay on the ground convulsing uncontrollably.

“Move, now!” Han Jinwei realized they had walked straight into an ambush. He gave the order to retreat at once.

Leave? How could it be that easy?

Li Banfeng often came to Flying Eagle Mountain and knew the terrain well. He could draw on his wife’s power beyond the Pocket Dwelling, and he chose the perfect spot for the ambush.

More than a hundred Homebound Cultivators burst out of the forest and struck down anyone in their path. They had already plugged their ears, so the song had no effect on them.

Through repeated clashes with the bandits of Flying Eagle Mountain, the combat strength of the Homebound Cultivators had been greatly tempered. This time, their attack was precise and steady.

Stone men, clay figures, and paper figures led the charge. Level-three and level-four Homebound Cultivators pressed forward as the main force. Level-one and level-two Homebound Cultivators swept the flanks, picking off anyone who slipped through.

In less than ten minutes, the Yellowclay Bridge hall was all but wiped out. Only Hall Master Han Jinwei, one deputy hall master, and one branch master managed to escape.

Li Banfeng stood at the foot of the mountain and continued to sing. The lyric “beyond the grave mounds lie more hills” felt especially fitting.

He gathered the souls of the dead as he sang. When no one was paying attention, he quietly sent them all into his Pocket Dwelling.

“Wifey, it’s time to eat!”

“Oh my dear, you really do dote on me. Today’s dishes are truly excellent.”

“My precious wifey, you must remember the Jiangxiang Gang’s kindness. Whether it’s groceries or delivering goods, their sincerity is beyond question.”

***

Inside a cramped village house, the fortune teller secretly reported to He Jiaqing.

“Iron Gate Fort laid a trap at Flying Eagle Mountain. Yellowclay Bridge Hall is as good as finished.”

He Jiaqing frowned deeply, “Iron Gate Fort took the initiative to strike? That doesn’t match their usual behavior. Something is off.”

“I thought the same. If we want answers, we’ll have to look inside the fort.”

He Jiaqing fell silent, as if weighing every possibility one by one.

Finally, he said, “The Jiangxiang Gang won’t let this slide. Old Wan, keep watching for now. Don’t act rashly.”

Author’s Note:

P.S. I wonder what Banfeng will sing if he comes face to face with He Jiaqing…

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep