Chapter 139: Bloodshed Honors the Heroes

On the dark, narrow path, Li Banfeng cautiously walked forward, holding a feather duster.

This path was called Little Yellow Spring. The old hunter had repeatedly warned him that it was the most perilous section and he should never rush.

Thick fog enveloped both sides of the path. There seemed to be wild grass and trees, and he could vaguely discern creatures crawling forward.

According to the old hunter, one could only walk along this narrow path and must not step off it. Even one extra step outside the path could be a matter of life and death.

Additionally, one had to constantly pay attention to the wind direction while walking.

If the wind blew south, he could continue forward, but under no circumstances should he look back, as there might be countless entities following him.

If the wind blew north, he had to stop and stand still. Even one more step might lead to an unknown encounter.

If the wind blew east, he should place some food and drink on the ground. Not much was needed, just a gesture of intent. Once the offerings disappeared, he could continue his journey.

If the wind blew west, he should light a cigarette and see some smoke. As long as the cigarette butt remained lit, he could proceed.

If the wind direction was irregular, he should turn around and walk backward until the wind direction stabilized.

The old hunter had repeated these rules several times: "These rules were told to me by others, and I can't explain the reasoning behind them. But I've seen people who didn't follow the rules on Little Yellow Spring. Even one mistake meant instant death. Ghosts are invisible, and in the end, people wouldn't even know how they died."

Li Banfeng, however, remained optimistic; he could see ghosts.

But this didn't mean he wanted to watch himself die.

He still had to follow the wind direction rules, and the best tool for judging the wind was his feather duster.

Li Banfeng walked south, holding his feather duster. A gentle breeze blew south, and the feathers drifted southward, making his journey very smooth.

After walking for over ten *li*, the wind suddenly ceased.

Li Banfeng stopped in his tracks, unsure of what to do next.

The old hunter hadn't mentioned a situation where the wind stopped.

The old hunter had said the wind on Little Yellow Spring always blew.

Now, the wind had indeed stopped; his feather duster was motionless.

Should this be considered an irregular wind direction?

Li Banfeng turned around, preparing to walk backward, when he suddenly saw a cluster of green flames following him.

Not just one cluster, but a continuous stream.

Countless ghostly flames, cluster after cluster, lined up neatly behind Li Banfeng.

It seemed he shouldn't have looked back just now.

As Li Banfeng wondered if turning back around would solve the problem, a wave of malice surged from within the ghostly flames.

Without time to ponder, Li Banfeng immediately picked up the Blood-Infused Pendulum, his only magical artifact capable of attacking spirits.

The Blood-Infused Pendulum was struck heavily, causing Li Banfeng's body to tremble violently.

Thump, thump, thump!

The impacts were continuous, forcing Li Banfeng to retreat repeatedly.

"Master, I can't hold on!" the pendulum cried out in distress.

Li Banfeng opened a door to his portable residence, dropped the key, but didn't close the door.

"Since you've come to deliver yourselves, I won't be polite."

Cluster after cluster of ghostly flames chased him inside, swirling around the room for a long time, but the record player showed no sign of action.

Li Banfeng dodged left and right in the main room, repeatedly calling out, "My dear, dinner is served!"

Sigh! Sigh!

The record player finally responded: "My dear husband, please wait in the outer room. Your humble servant has been hungry for many days, and my eating habits might be unseemly. I don't wish for my husband to see."

"It's just the two of us, my dear. Do you still care about that?"

Li Banfeng didn't understand the record player's intention, nor could he even go to the outer room at the moment.

A dozen spirits were responsible for the attack, another dozen for support, and yet another dozen for blocking his path.

These spirits acted with order and perfect coordination, like a well-trained army, making it difficult for Li Banfeng to resist.

What's wrong with my dear wife?

I've brought the ingredients back, why isn't she eager at all?

Hiss! Hiss! Hiss!

The sound of a zither slowly began.

With a crackling noise, the record player began to sing a song:

"In spring, green grass sprouts, battle robes are finely sewn.In summer, red flowers bloom, drums and horns thunder.In autumn, yellow leaves fall, an enemy's head is taken on the battlefield.In winter, white snow flies, blood is spilled to honor fallen heroes."

The sound of wind arose, so real it seemed as if there was actual wind within the portable residence.

Within the sound of the wind, he could also hear his wife's singing—the most beautiful voice Li Banfeng had ever heard.

What song is this?

Perhaps he shouldn't dwell on the question; no matter what song his wife sang, it always calmed the spirits.

These well-trained spirits were no exception; they immediately ceased their actions, lined up neatly, and silently listened to the song from the record player.

A puff of steam spewed out, pushing open the door to the outer room.

Li Banfeng understood, entered the room, and closed the door.

He took out the Thread-Pulling Earrings and listened carefully to the sounds outside the door.

The song continued, and he vaguely heard sobbing—sobbing from the spirits.

First a sob or two, then it gradually became widespread. All dozens of spirits who had entered the room seemed to be weeping.

Were they moved by his wife's singing?

Just moved?

After the song finished, the record player spoke:

"I had intended never to see you again, yet here we are.What you owe me, you cannot repay, nor do I require you to.Now go. And never touch that man again."

His wife knew them?

She knew this group of lonely spirits and wild ghosts in the New Land?

As Li Banfeng stood astonished, the door to the outer room opened.

Dozens of ghostly flames stood neatly, waiting for Li Banfeng to open the door.

His wife resumed her usual singing style, singing slowly: "Oh, my dear husband, these vengeful spirits have been dead for who knows how long. They're old and dry, bitter and spicy—truly hard to swallow. Please send them away quickly."

Li Banfeng was silent for a moment, then nodded.

Li Banfeng had heard everything the record player had just said to these spirits.

The record player also knew Li Banfeng had heard everything.

But Li Banfeng didn't ask a single additional question. He opened the door and led the group of spirits out of the portable residence.

Just as he stepped outside the door, before he could even pick up the key, a large mass of ghostly flames from outside rushed towards him.

The ghostly flames that had come from inside circled around Li Banfeng, forcing back the external flames. Once Li Banfeng picked up the key, they escorted him south all the way.

Inside the portable residence, Red Lotus spoke: "Seeing old acquaintances, isn't your heart about to be gouged out?"

The record player scoffed, "If you want to mock me, at least be accurate. Do I even have a heart anymore?"

Red Lotus's petals subtly opened and closed, seemingly still mocking the record player: "Only you know if you have a heart. Look what they did to you! Can you truly forget? You had a chance for revenge, yet you let them go?"

Sigh!

Sigh!

"What good would killing them do? What difference would revenge make? It's precisely because my heart is gone that I no longer care."

Li Banfeng was escorted by the group of spirits for a full hundred *li*.

Blue Poplar Village wasn't large, but the New Land's area was vast!

The narrow path widened as he walked, and as the chilling mist slowly dissipated, the surroundings turned into a vast wilderness.

Li Banfeng had exited Little Yellow Spring.

The remaining journey was all flat ground. Occasionally, he encountered some anomalies, but fortunately, they weren't too powerful, and Li Banfeng managed to avoid them using his auspicious-avoidance technique.

After running for two hours across the wilderness, Li Banfeng spotted a large grove of orange trees.

From a distance, these orange trees looked no different from the ones Li Banfeng was familiar with, except for having more leaves and slightly larger oranges.

Upon getting closer, Li Banfeng realized the problem.

These orange trees were over ten meters tall, and each orange had a diameter of about fifty centimeters, much larger than what Li Banfeng considered normal.

For the old hunter from Blue Poplar Village, the orange grove was a truly good place.

The oranges in this grove were edible, rich in sugar, and contained oil, making them a very rare food source in the New Land.

Orange peels were extremely precious spices, highly valuable. At Ma Wu's place, a *jin* of orange peel could fetch eight hundred.

Besides orange peels, there were also orange maggots (a type of pest that infests oranges). The orange maggots from this grove could be used in medicine and were remarkably effective for external injuries. A prime-grade orange maggot could sell for two hundred yuan at Ma Wu's.

In addition to orange maggots, there were weevils. The weevils in this orange grove had exceptionally long proboscises, making them excellent tools for acupuncture. One weevil needle could sell for over five hundred yuan.

In the orange grove, peeling oranges, finding orange maggots, or catching weevils were all permissible, but one must not be excessive, especially not harm the orange trees. As the old hunter put it, this was 'looking up at the trees, looking down at the saplings.'

Some hunters came to the orange grove to catch orange maggots by directly cutting down orange trees, picking all the oranges, and crushing them one by one to find the maggots.

Such people would die, though how exactly was unknown.

Others, wanting to peel oranges, would harvest thousands of *jin* of oranges, regardless of ripeness, peel them, and then waste all the pulp. Such people would also die.

Some hunters catching weevils would find the saplings in their way, so they'd use sickles to clear a path, chopping down the orange saplings. Such people would also die.

Simply put, as long as one took only what was needed and didn't cause excessive damage, there would be no trouble in the orange grove.

The old hunter had told Li Banfeng that blue-leaf poplars might suddenly appear among the orange trees. Poplar trees and orange trees were very different, so with a little care, he would definitely not mistake them.

Li Banfeng walked through the orange grove for two hours and found no other tree species besides orange trees.

Having walked for a full day, Li Banfeng was also tired and returned to his portable residence early to rest.

As soon as he entered, a cloud of warm steam wafted towards him, as if he were being tightly embraced by his wife.

"Oh, my dear husband, you must be weary from your journey."

"Oh, my dear husband, quickly take off your clothes to change; your humble servant will wash and starch them for you."

"Oh, my dear husband, the hot water is ready. Your humble servant will attend to your bath."

"Oh, my dear husband, if you wish to relax, then relax completely during your bath. Your humble servant will clean up later."

Feeling guilty for having hidden things from Li Banfeng and having let down his earnest intentions, the record player spoke with exceptional tenderness that night.

Li Banfeng ignored the record player, squatted down, and searched for something in the cabinet.

Sighing softly.

With a slight nervousness in her voice, she sang, "Oh, good husband, are you upset with your humble servant? I know you worked hard buying ingredients, but your humble servant truly has no appetite today. Please don't blame your humble servant; I apologize to you."

Li Banfeng took an oil can from the cabinet and said with a smile, "I'm not blaming you, my dear. I just feel your speech today isn't smooth; perhaps you're a bit stuck. I thought I'd give you some machine oil."

The record player became flustered, her singing slightly off-key: "My dear husband, let's talk properly. There's no need for machine oil; your humble servant is quite smooth here."

Without further discussion, Li Banfeng took the oil can, went behind the record player, and opened the casing.

The record player hurriedly explained: "Oh, my dear husband, your humble servant truly doesn't lack machine oil! My dear husband, please listen to me. Your humble servant didn't intentionally hide anything from you, nor is my speech rough. Those people truly are old acquaintances, but your humble servant truly doesn't wish to revisit past events. My dear husband, if you insist on oiling, then use an oil brush. Other tools cannot be used! My dear husband... My dear husband..."