Li Banfeng knocked on the door. A man of about thirty-five or thirty-six answered. He was of medium height and sturdy build, clad in a simple vest and trousers, with patches upon patches all over his clothes.
His dark cheeks, bushy eyebrows, and thick lips exuded an air of simplicity and honesty.
Little Fatty had once told Li Banfeng that once you left Medicine King Valley, restaurants became very scarce. If you got hungry on the road and wanted to find a place to eat, you could ask for a meal at someone’s home, giving them three or five yuan for the food, and most families would not refuse.
After Li Banfeng explained his intent, the man warmly welcomed him into his home.
Although the man was plainly dressed, his yard was quite large. Just looking at the size of the front yard, it was almost as big as a basketball court.
The yard had three tile-roofed houses and one storage room. The buildings were somewhat old but meticulously clean.
The deduction that this was the front yard came from the surrounding walls and layout, suggesting a not-so-small backyard as well.
As a Home Cultivation, seeing a spacious and clean residence made Li Banfeng feel a hint of envy.
"There’s some leftover rice at home; not much for sides, but make do," the man said as he lit an oil lamp in the yard. A woman brought over a bowl of rice and a small dish of pickled cucumbers.
The woman was dressed in a diagonally buttoned cloth shirt covered with patches. Judging by her age, she was likely the man’s wife. Li Banfeng didn’t look too closely, nor should he have.
After setting the table, the woman hurried back inside.
Li Banfeng first pulled out thirty yuan and stuffed it into the man’s hand, but the man waved his hands, saying, "This is too much."
Li Banfeng insisted, "Take it. I feel bad for bothering you so late."
The rice was coarse, with quite a few husks, but Li Banfeng didn’t mind; he was truly hungry and devoured the rice along with the pickled cucumbers.
Holding the banknotes, the man’s expression was one of guilt, as if he owed Li Banfeng something.
He slipped back into the house, and shortly after, an elderly woman with graying hair came out holding a jug of liquor.
"Young man, try our homemade sorghum wine," the old woman said with a smile as she approached Li Banfeng.
Li Banfeng shook his head. "Elder, I don’t drink."
It wasn’t out of politeness but rather that Li Banfeng really didn’t care for the local brew.
For such a poor family, a jug of wine was very precious. The old woman had been disturbed, and if Li Banfeng didn’t like it, he shouldn’t waste their kindness.
However, the old woman still insisted on pouring him a bowl. "Have a bowl, young man. It isn’t anything fancy, so don’t look down upon it. My son took your money, and we really feel bad about it."
Since the old woman had personally poured it for him, Li Banfeng felt he couldn’t refuse and took a sip from the bowl.
Surprisingly, the wine was fragrant and mellow, better than what he’d had at the Steamed Bun restaurant.
He finished the bowl of rice, the pickled cucumbers, and the bowl of wine, then let out a satisfied burp.
The old woman smiled. "Young man, do you have a place to stay? If not, stay at our home."
"I have a place," Li Banfeng replied. "Thank you for your hospitality."
He had to leave quickly after eating. Li Banfeng was being pursued by the Jiang Xiang Gang, and he couldn’t involve this honest-looking family.
But just as he got up, Li Banfeng suddenly felt dizzy, and the figures of the mother and son wavered before his eyes.
The old woman looked at Li Banfeng with a sly smile. "Young man, no need to run about. I think you should stay."
Li Banfeng turned to run towards the door, only to see the man’s wife standing in the way.
The person lifted their head and punched Li Banfeng in the jaw.
Li Banfeng tried to dodge, but his body didn’t cooperate, and the punch landed squarely.
Li Banfeng staggered back two steps and fell to the ground.
He took a closer look at the person’s face.
Under the candlelight, he saw clearly that there was a ring of blue-black stubble around the person’s lips. It was a man.
Li Banfeng held his forehead, rubbed his eyes, wiped the blood from his mouth and nose with his hand, then collapsed on the ground and slowly closed his eyes.
His eyes were closed, but he hadn’t passed out; he was still conscious, and he could hear the conversations of the people around him loud and clear.
The eldest son, with an honest-looking face, turned to the old woman. "Mother, to deal with such a White Lamb, was it really necessary to waste a whole jug of my good wine? The plate of pickled cucumbers would have been enough."
Li Banfeng’s heart was ablaze with anger.
The old woman laughed. "Silly boy, look carefully. This is no White Lamb. There’s something odd about the way he walks—this is a Traveling Cultivator, and one who has reached a higher cultivation level, no less."
"A Traveling Cultivator?" The eldest son scratched his head. "I’ve never really seen one before."
The old woman said, "You’ve never seen one, but today you’ll gain some experience. Traveling Cultivators move fast. This man has the skill ’Wind Rises on Flat Ground,’ proving he’s reached a higher level. However, he only reached this level recently and hasn’t learned to control it perfectly yet. If I hadn’t used the poisoned wine to bring him down, he could have disappeared in the blink of an eye. Moreover, Traveling Cultivators are aware of dangers. If it weren’t for my actions, he would have realized what was happening—’woken up,’ as they say—as soon as he stepped in the door."
Waking up, or *xingzan’er*, is slang meaning the deceived person has become aware of the deception.
Upon hearing this, the eldest son felt some pride. "Mother, is my wine getting better and better?"
The old woman snorted. "You reached the First Layer two years ago, and it has been a year and a half since then. If you can’t even take down someone of a similar cultivation level, how can you have the face to continue in this line of work?"
From the old woman’s words, Li Banfeng deduced that this man was a Poison Cultivation, with a cultivation level equivalent to his own—they were both at the First Layer.
Li Banfeng wanted to open his eyes, but his eyelids were just too heavy; after several attempts, he couldn’t open them.
The second son, disguised as a woman, said, "Mother, since he’s not a White Lamb, why don’t we just take his head while he’s down?"
The second son had never seen a Traveling Cultivator either, but he thought it was better to kill a Seedling with cultivation skills.
Upon hearing this, Li Banfeng’s heart tightened.
The old woman poked Li Banfeng with her cane. Seeing no reaction, she ordered her sons, "Take everything he has, lock up his hands and feet, and throw him in the Seedling Room. We’ll make our move at the Zi hour."
The second son didn’t understand. "Mother, why do we have to wait until the Zi hour?"
Indeed, why wait until the Zi hour? Li Banfeng didn’t quite understand either; he was already prepared for a desperate struggle.
"If I tell you to wait until the Zi hour, then wait! First, take everything he has!" the old woman scolded. The two sons approached Li Banfeng and took away the sickle, shovel, and wallet, even the spicy strips hidden in the lining of his clothes.
But there was one thing they didn’t take.
While wiping his mouth and nose, Li Banfeng had hidden the key in his mouth.
He had wanted to open the Portable Residence and escape right away, but under the scrutiny of the three people, Li Banfeng wasn’t confident he could get the key out, let alone turn it successfully.
Right now, the old woman indeed didn’t intend to kill Li Banfeng.
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