CHAPTER 364: CHAPTER 249: WON HALF

The Saint held the teacup, swirling it gently.

Li Banfeng’s formidable presence assailed him in waves, a sensation the Saint found both surprising and familiar.

"Have you been on a battlefield?" the Saint asked.

"Sort of," Li Banfeng answered vaguely; there was no need for him to be too specific.

Moreover, this was essentially the truth. Whether one had been on a battlefield depended on the specific definition of one. The battle between Qiu Luoye and Shui Yongquan could, by all rights, be considered a proper battlefield.

The Saint then asked, "How old are you?"

Li Banfeng pondered. "I can’t remember. Perhaps around your age."

This was a half-truth. Li Banfeng’s age could not possibly be comparable to the Saint’s, but he genuinely could not remember his age, as he was an orphan.

The Saint’s domineering aura continued to clash with Li Banfeng’s imposing presence. One of the Saint’s disciples couldn’t help his curiosity; he wanted to see what kind of man could sit on equal footing with his Master.

He glanced towards the inside of the house, a small movement the Saint instantly noticed.

With a sweep of his sleeve, the face of the disciple who had looked up contorted. The blood vessels on his head swelled abruptly and then burst. As blood sprayed, the disciple breathed his last.

The Saint looked at Li Banfeng and asked, "Do you understand now?"

Li Banfeng shook his head. "No, I don’t."

"If I tell him to kneel here, he must kneel properly. That’s my rule," the Saint stated.

"If he doesn’t kneel well, it means he isn’t following my rules. For that, he deserves to die. Do you understand this time?"

Li Banfeng glanced outside and pointed at another disciple. "He’s not kneeling well either. Look at his posture—all slack, clearly insincere. Kill another one for me to see. Maybe after watching a few more times, I’ll understand."

The tea in the Saint’s cup swirled again. He was annoyed but restrained himself.

Li Banfeng took a sip of tea. His heart was pounding, but he couldn’t let it show on his face.

The Saint placed the teacup on the table and looked at Li Banfeng. "Do you know who I am?"

Li Banfeng countered, "What do you think?"

"Do you know that even Peddlers rarely dare to come to my territory?" The Saint wasn’t lying; Peddlers indeed seldom came.

Li Banfeng continued, "That’s precisely why I’m here. As his senior brother, I need to regain some face for my junior brother."

Even if it was bluff, it had to be utterly convincing. Although bolstered by Hong Ying’s power, if Li Banfeng couldn’t intimidate him, his situation would become perilous.

The Saint suddenly laughed, his ferocious expression softening. "And you think you can regain that face?"

Li Banfeng shook his head. "I can’t get it back. I’ve lost half, but not to you!"

Lost half.

The Saint fell silent for a moment, then burst into loud laughter, clearly appreciating the statement.

"You have a point; you indeed didn’t lose to me.

"I can agree to your terms. Tomorrow night, at this same time, take your people and leave. Anyone in this stronghold who wants to go with you, you can take. You must set off by ten o’clock. Head south and keep going until you see a way out.

"Once you’re gone, we’ll consider this matter settled. If, in the future, you find a way to regain your face, I’ll be waiting for you right here!"

Li Banfeng nodded. "It’s a deal."

"To have met is fate. I have something for you." The Saint waved his hand, and a Disciple in White, carrying a book box, approached Li Banfeng, walking on his knees the entire way.

Li Banfeng accepted the box and looked at the young man in white. "You walk on your knees quite skillfully; it seems you’ve practiced.

"But you were careless just now; your knee movements were clearly uneven. I believe it’s due to insufficient respect. Walk a few more rounds for me, so I can see your sincerity."

As Li Banfeng spoke, cold sweat dripped down the Disciple in White’s face. He truly feared his Master would believe Li Banfeng and order his death.

The Saint did not trouble the Disciple in White further, gesturing for him to leave the wooden hut.

Li Banfeng took the book box. He didn’t open it hastily but instead gauged its weight, estimating it contained four or five books.

The Saint said to Li Banfeng, "These are historical records, genuine ones. Don’t you want to take a look?"

Li Banfeng shook his head. "There’s no rush to read. What if there are characters I don’t recognize? You’d laugh at me."

These historical records must not be opened in front of the Saint. Li Banfeng claimed an age similar to the Saint’s. Yet, if he showed unfamiliarity with the records or couldn’t judge the authenticity of these books, it would reveal his vulnerability. The consequences of such a revelation were clear.

The Saint smiled. "Even if you don’t enjoy reading, you should know the value of Puluo State’s historical records. These few volumes alone are worth a fortune. This gift is not meager."

Li Banfeng expressed his thanks and casually placed the book box aside.

The Saint stood up. "I have shown sufficient sincerity. I hope you keep your promise. Tomorrow night at ten, I will check on your situation. If you deceive me, I will keep you here forever. Then we’ll see who regrets it."

With that, the Saint left.

Li Banfeng called after his retreating figure, "Aren’t you going to leave a Contract Book?"

The Saint laughed. "A gentleman’s agreement doesn’t require such a thing."

A domineering aura swept over Li Banfeng again. He forced himself not to tremble.

Was Li Banfeng truly afraid of him? Yes, he was. But was he entirely without means to deal with him? Not quite. He could continue waylaying, keep the skirmishes going, and turn Cheap Person Ridge upside down, thereby gaining more benefits. Even if the Saint decided to be ruthless, Li Banfeng could escape to his Portable Residence for a time.

But Li Banfeng had decided to leave.

Just as he’d said, he hadn’t lost to the Saint. But in this battle, he had already lost half; there were some things he simply could not change. He also understood why Peddlers seldom came to Cheap Person Ridge.

After seeing the Saint off, Li Banfeng called Xiao Yeci over. "Have you decided? Will you go with me or stay here?"

Xiao Yeci puffed out her chest. "I will follow you, Benefactor! I won’t stay here."

Li Banfeng confirmed once more, "Once we decide to go, we go. No hesitation, agreed?"

Xiao Yeci replied earnestly, "If Benefactor says go, I will go, without the slightest hesitation!"

Lu Chunying added from the side, "Let my mom change her trousers first. That doesn’t count as hesitation, does it?"

Li Banfeng answered seriously, "Changing trousers doesn’t count. After you’ve changed, go through the stronghold for me. Ask how many people want to stay and how many want to leave. You must tell me by eight o’clock tomorrow night."

Xiao Yeci naturally didn’t dare to neglect the task Li Banfeng had assigned her.

She went from house to house, asking.

She knew these people no longer wanted to resort to robbery, nor did they wish to take any more risks.

But she believed that if they could leave this place, they would definitely agree without hesitation.

But she was wrong.

After asking around, not a single person immediately agreed to leave with their Benefactor. Their answers were also very vague.

"Sister Xiao, I hurt my foot pushing the cart. I need to recover for a couple of days."

"Madam Xiao, we can’t leave in the next two days. As the saying goes, ’Before soldiers move, food and fodder go first.’ If we are to leave, we must wait until the next crop is harvested."

They didn’t want to leave; they tried every excuse to delay. But after careful questioning, there were mainly three reasons. First, those who had been trafficked here had nowhere to go, even if they left. Second, those who had been sent by their families feared they would just be sent back if they returned home. Third, those who didn’t trust Li Banfeng. They believed he couldn’t possibly be the Saint’s match, nor would he be able to lead them out alive.

In Xiao Yeci’s view, these three reasons all made some sense. But in Li Banfeng’s view, these three reasons were not the main point. The main point was, their current lives could continue. As long as life could go on, they were willing to just keep going. This was what Li Banfeng had expected. This place was different—unlike Medicine King Valley, Greenwater City, or Iron Gate Fort. People who had stayed here for a long time were completely different from those in other places.

By eight o’clock the next evening, Li Banfeng set off immediately, without the slightest hesitation or delay.

At the stronghold gate, Niu Guangda, having tied his ox to the side, shouldered his bundle and walked behind Li Banfeng. "Benefactor, I went to tend the oxen to avoid drawing attention. I’m determined to follow you. Wherever you go, I’ll go. I don’t want to stay here and suffer."

Li Banfeng smiled. This kid still had a chance.

Along the way, more than twenty other people joined them.

They were all very young, and they believed Li Banfeng could lead them out.

Those who didn’t leave remained in the stronghold, continuing their supposedly peaceful lives.

Unfortunately, those days were not peaceful. Not long after Li Banfeng had left, the Saint’s disciple arrived.

He made a demand: Benefactor’s Stronghold had to hand over seventy percent of its harvest to Sage’s Peak—be it grain, livestock, or silk, seventy percent of everything.

Seventy percent? Isn’t that too high?

The residents of the stronghold were initially unwilling to agree. However, the disciple possessed a cultivation level. After killing several people, he patiently explained to the crowd, "Your Benefactor has already left. No one is protecting you now, and the Saint’s patience is wearing thin. If you don’t repent, you’ll truly lose your lives."

Benefactor had already left. Besides him, no one dared to defy the Saint. Why did Benefactor just leave like that? Why couldn’t he stay with us? To hand over seventy percent... Well, that’s alright. The remaining thirty percent was barely enough to live on. Back in their old villages, sometimes they couldn’t even keep thirty percent of the harvest. Their current lives were much better by comparison.

Outside the stronghold gate, the Saint watched everything unfold within.

He personally witnessed the residents transform from attempting to resist, to being angry but silent, and finally, to not even daring to feel anger.

Soon, another village would spring up here; such scenes had occurred before. They would forget the origins of this village. They would hand over even more of their harvest. The Saint’s disciple would soon come to give lectures, and it wouldn’t be long before the Saint would become the most important figure in their lives. As for that Benefactor, the people here wouldn’t easily mention him again.

A young man had just mentioned him, his tone filled with undisguised contempt: "He said he’d leave, and he left without a second glance. He never intended to take us with him."

The Saint looked toward the south and asked the Disciple in White, "Do you think he will come back?"

The Disciple in White respectfully answered, "He has already lost to Master. He will never dare to return."

The Saint shook his head. "I think he will come back. And he hasn’t lost; he won half. Besides Peddlers, only he could escape from my territory so swiftly. For that alone, he should be considered the winner.

"As for the remaining half, he indeed lost. But not to me—to this group of wretches, these hopeless wretches."

The Saint continued to watch every movement in Benefactor’s Stronghold. He thought Cheap Person Ridge was so endearing.

He turned his face towards the south again and said to the Disciple in White, "Deliver a message to your second senior brother: this man’s identity must be thoroughly investigated."