In the thick fog, two men quickly made their way.
Hunter Sun Tiecheng moved at a swift pace, covering more than seventy miles in half a day. However, for the speed of a Third Layer Traveling Cultivator, it honestly left much to be desired.
"Are you really a Traveling Cultivator?" Li Banfeng asked, his patience wearing thin.
Sun Tiecheng answered earnestly, "My lord, we mustn’t walk too fast, otherwise we’ll fail to find the Old Land."
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"I can’t explain it well myself. I just know that one must walk slowly on this road to find the gateway to the Old Land."
Li Banfeng grew even more curious.
After another half a day’s walk, the dense fog gradually dispersed, and a city could vaguely be seen in the distance.
Unlike Greenwater City, this was not a modern city, but an ancient one, complete with city walls, battlements, and gate towers.
Sun Tiecheng said, "My lord, this is Fisherman City. If you pass through Fisherman City and keep heading south, you’ll reach Iron Sheep Mountain."
"Fisherman City? Are there many fishermen?" Li Banfeng asked.
"Not that kind of ’fish,’ but a different character that sounds the same. I can’t read, so I don’t know how to explain it properly."
Amidst the endless wilderness, the sudden appearance of a city caused Li Banfeng some concern. The city gave him a bad feeling, as if danger awaited him.
Li Banfeng said to Sun Tiecheng, "Let’s not enter the city; we’ll go around."
"You can’t go around; you’ll get lost."
Li Banfeng looked at Sun Tiecheng in surprise. "Have you been to Iron Sheep Mountain before?"
"I have."
"You’re a Traveling Cultivator, you’ve walked this path before, and you’d still get lost?"
"Yes, one would get lost. There’s something strange about this city. It can only be traversed; you definitely can’t go around it."
More puzzled, Li Banfeng asked, "Even if we walk right alongside the city wall, we can’t go around it?"
Sun Tiecheng, with a troubled look, responded, "My lord, you’ve paid me, so I definitely wouldn’t dare to deceive you. This city truly can’t be bypassed. If you don’t believe me, I’ll return your money."
"That won’t be necessary," Li Banfeng waved his hand. "Let’s go into the city."
Once inside the city gate, Li Banfeng looked around.
The city was quite sizable. The streets were spacious and paved with stone slabs, with rows of houses neatly arranged on both sides. However, due to years of neglect, they appeared rather dilapidated.
The buildings were dilapidated, but there were quite a few people around—some strolled the streets, others set up stalls on the roadside, and stores of all sizes had their doors open, with people frequently going in and out.
The Old Land became what it is because the Proper Land lost its human energy. According to his wife’s words, in a Hundred Miles of Land, there weren’t even a hundred people.
Others might not understand, but Li Banfeng found it unsurprising because these people were special: their faces shone with a green glow.
To put it accurately, they weren’t people; they were ghosts.
The city was filled with Lost Souls wandering about, just as Ma Wu had said—they considered themselves alive, devoid of the caution and taboos expected of Ghosts.
These Lost Souls were different from the ones Li Banfeng usually saw; their bodies and flesh felt very real and complete, comparable to the flesh of a Local Deity.
They didn’t carry that kind of formidable presence.
They hadn’t gone far down the main street when they heard someone shouting from the roadside ahead:
"Pain is pain, injury is injury, the blood flows like a long river! A slight chill turns to illness; a small wound, if inflamed, becomes a sore!"
Approaching, they saw a man carrying a box, peddling medicine to the onlookers:
"This is my family’s secret remedy, specifically for pains and injuries in the back and legs.
"This plaster contains twenty-one different herbs—no Pearl Ginseng, no Ox Gallstone Dog Treasure—just some inexpensive medicinal herbs.
"Folk remedies can cure major illnesses, and simple herbs can shame famous doctors! This medicine isn’t costly, two coins a plaster. Two for the severely ill will ensure recovery, and one for the mildly affected is enough."
Li Banfeng laughed. "This guy’s pretty interesting."
Sun Tiecheng smacked his lips. "My lord, he’s a charlatan, a common plaster hawker—just a swindler. It’s all a scam, nothing worth seeing."
’Charlatan’ was underworld slang for a medicine peddler from the Jianghu. ’Plaster hawker’ referred to those who sold plasters, so-called because in the old days, plasters had to be heated by fire before application.
However, the crowd buying the medicine also consisted of ghosts, and Li Banfeng wanted to see just how a ghost would swindle other ghosts.
The man glanced at Sun Tiecheng before continuing his cry, "Someone just claimed I was deceiving people. We are complete strangers; I don’t know where you got that from.
"I am an honest man, respectful to my parents at home and friendly to everyone I meet. What I value most is my reputation. After hearing those words, I am genuinely upset.
"I must protect my honor and prove myself! Today, to make my name known, I’m going all out—I’m not charging a single copper for these medicines. I’m giving them away for free!"
Li Banfeng, stroking his chin, watched with heightened interest.
Sun Tiecheng urged from the side, "My lord, don’t watch any longer. He’s just stalling, trying to keep the crowd hooked. It’s a Jianghu trick."
But Li Banfeng still refused to leave.
The man continued, "Although these medicinal ingredients are cheap, they still cost money. If I were to give a plaster to everyone here, I truly couldn’t afford it.
"I have ten tickets here. I’ll throw them out, and you all try to catch them. Whoever catches one gets a free plaster. Those who get a ticket receive one; those who don’t, miss out."
The man began to throw out paper tickets, and Li Banfeng actually managed to catch one.