Chapter 15: Peddler

The rickshaw puller took two steps back upon seeing Li Banfeng’s stiff body. Li Banfeng found it exceptionally hard to breathe. Before he could understand what was happening to his body, two men emerged from a nearby alley.

Both men wore shirts, vests, and newsboy caps pulled down low over their eyes. Realizing they were heading for Li Banfeng, the puller was startled and quickly lifted his rickshaw, preparing to leave.

Who were these two men? Li Banfeng didn’t recognize them. Were they after him? Indeed, they were. These were Xiao Zhenggong’s men, who had been shadowing Li Banfeng since he left the train station. Their mission was to kill Li Banfeng and take the copper lotus from him.

Li Banfeng tried to reach for the spicy snack in his pocket, but his hands wouldn’t obey. One of the newsboy-capped men drew a dagger from his sleeve, while the other scowled and swept his gaze across the surroundings, signaling others to mind their own business.

He couldn’t resist, couldn’t defend himself, couldn’t escape. Li Banfeng couldn’t even twitch. Never in his life had Li Banfeng felt such despair.

As the two men drew closer, he suddenly heard someone speaking beside him:

“Take the child to get something to eat first, then wait for me at the clinic.”

The tall, slender man, who stood at 1.9 meters, settled his wife into another rickshaw. He then turned and approached Li Banfeng, his left hand in his pocket, his right steadying Li Banfeng.

Upon seeing the tall, slender man, the two men in newsboy caps did not immediately close in on Li Banfeng. They were unsure of the man’s capabilities or his background.

One of the newsboy-capped men stepped forward and spoke, “Friend, what’s your line? Give us your code name.” Li Banfeng paused, wondering if it was a foreign language. It wasn’t a foreign language; it was underworld slang. The newsboy-capped man’s words meant: “Friend, what’s your affiliation? Tell us your background.”

Monkey Qiu understood, but he ignored them completely. Seeing their attempts at communication fail, the other newsboy-capped man began to threaten, “Friend, we’re from the Jiangxiang Gang. You’ve heard of our name, and you know our rules. We’re determined to take this one. Blades have no eyes, so keep your distance.”

He meant: Friend of the underworld, we are determined to kill this person. Our weapons are indiscriminate, so stay out of it.

The tall, slender man’s brow furrowed slightly as he cast a glance at the two newsboy-capped men. The two newsboy-capped men suddenly felt a tremor in their chests; their heartbeats slowed but grew heavier. Thump! Thump! Their hearts felt as if they might burst at any moment.

One of the newsboy-capped men whispered, “This is a Joy Cultivator! Their level is not low!”

“Let’s go!” The other newsboy-capped man also recognized the gravity of the situation and prepared to retreat. The tall, slender man’s power was beyond their reach. Without a moment’s hesitation, they turned and vanished from sight.

The tall, slender man didn’t pursue them. Supporting Li Banfeng, he turned directly to the rickshaw puller and asked, “Is your rickshaw fast?”

“Not particularly,” the puller replied, subtly avoiding Li Banfeng, clearly unwilling to take him as a passenger. A person “illuminated by heavenly light” was always prone to major incidents, and this one was also involved with underworld figures. Who would want to be associated with him?

“Do you have ‘fire wheels’?” the tall, slender man asked again.

The puller shook his head. “If I had ‘fire wheels,’ would I still be trying to earn these few coins?”

“Is there anyone with ‘fire wheels’ near the station?” The man produced a ten-yuan banknote and handed it to the puller. The puller took the banknote and grinned. “Yes, sir, I’ll take you.” Earning ten yuan for no work at all was an offer he was happy to accept.

The puller led the way, while the tall, slender man, with one hand still in his pocket and the other carrying Li Banfeng, followed him through an alley. At the alley’s end, a short, stout rickshaw puller was squatting, smoking. The smoke was harsh, from hand-rolled tobacco.

“Sir, this is the one with ‘fire wheels’,” the first puller said before quickly departing.

The tall, slender man approached the stout puller. “What quality are your ‘fire wheels’?” he asked.

The puller looked up. “What quality could they be if I’m still pulling rickshaws?” he retorted. “Just the bottom tier!”

The tall, slender man nodded. “Do you know where the peddler is?”

The puller clicked his tongue. “I saw him this morning. It’s a bit far, and I don’t know if he’s still around.”

“Distance isn’t an issue. Name your price.”

The puller held up five fingers. “Five hundred Huan Kingdom notes. No bargaining.”

The tall, slender man placed Li Banfeng on the rickshaw, then fumbled in his inner pocket, producing five hundred-yuan Huan Kingdom notes for the puller. The puller noticed the tall, slender man extracted the money with only one hand, and glanced at his left hand, which remained tucked into his pocket. He found it odd but didn’t ask any questions.

After counting the notes and finding them all there, the puller extinguished his cigarette. He positioned his left wrist upward, supporting the left shaft, and his right wrist downward, pressing on the right shaft. Li Banfeng found his grip on the handlebars peculiar—one hand up, one down—it looked awkward. What he didn’t know was that this was the “Yin-Yang grip,” the standard hold for pulling rickshaws. The rickshaw pullers Li Banfeng had seen on television always lifted the handlebars with both hands. If their grip wasn’t steady, passengers would lurch back and forth, or even fall out of the vehicle. If a puller operated that way, they might not get paid, or worse, they could face a severe beating.

With the Yin-Yang grip—one hand up, one down—the puller lifted the rickshaw steadily and called out, “Let’s go!” Before the words left his lips, the puller had already sprinted the rickshaw out of the alley.

Li Banfeng was still conscious; the wind whistled past his ears as roadside houses and trees blurred into the background. Perhaps the narrow alley and close buildings created an optical illusion for Li Banfeng. What incredible speed was this? The puller was moving the rickshaw so fast, it felt like a car.

Monkey Qiu also found the puller unusual. “Your skills don’t seem to be at the lowest level of cultivation,” he commented.

The puller chuckled. “You pay, I pull. It’s not like we’re settling down together, so why fuss over details? Let’s be clear,” he continued, “the person beside you seems to be a ‘white lamb illuminated by heavenly light.’ My only job is to get you to your destination. Whether he lives or dies after that is no concern of mine!”

“Don’t worry, he won’t die,” the tall, slender man assured him. “This young man is lucky. He wouldn’t have met the peddler normally, but the train was delayed for three days, giving him just enough time to catch him.”

The puller was surprised. “Seriously? Such good fortune? Could he have met a lucky star?”

Li Banfeng couldn’t move his neck, so he couldn’t see the puller’s legs or how he was generating such speed. He could only observe the passing scenery from a fixed perspective. The town’s architecture was peculiar: interlocking bricks and stones, neat and clean, without any sense of decay or dilapidation. Yet, it possessed a unique ancient feel that deeply resonated with Li Banfeng. It wasn’t the wear of simple age, but a distinct kind of antiquity. The spacious gateways set within brick walls, the grand elevated beams, and the soaring eaves evoked a strong sense of classical elegance. However, the occasional carvings and porthole-like windows on the walls added a touch of Western influence. Particularly striking were the two and three-story buildings nestled among the streets, with their projecting balconies and corridors, unique arched windows and doorways, and walls adorned with roses and creeping ivy. They made Li Banfeng feel as if he had stepped into a unique era, one suspended in a historical crevice.

What era it was, Li Banfeng had no time to ponder. The arduous beating of his heart and his constricted breathing made him feel the stark threat to his life.

He listened to the puller and the tall, slender man chat casually as they raced through the town and out to the desolate outskirts. There, the puller finally stopped and wiped sweat from his brow.

“He really is lucky; the peddler hasn’t left!” The puller gasped for a moment, then looked back at the tall, slender man and Li Banfeng.

The tall, slender man carried Li Banfeng from the rickshaw. Ahead, beneath a willow tree, stood a pushcart topped with a large, two-tiered wooden cabinet. A red lantern was affixed to the cabinet. Beside the pushcart, a man in his thirties was squatting, dozing under the tree.

The puller called out to the man, “Hey! Still open for business?”

The man lifted his eyes, stood up, stretched, and then produced a rattle drum, shaking it vigorously.

“Ding-a-ling, clatter! Ding-a-ling, clatter!Foreign soap and vanishing cream,Silk scarves, handkerchiefs, sewing kits gleam.Leather buckets, iron water scoops,Matches, foreign candles, iron shovels for scoops!Pickling jars and soy sauce pots,Rice spoons, water ladles, vegetable knives for lots!A cart of fine goods, a name well-known,All for flat prices, pick your own!”

A peddler? This was *the* peddler?

The peddler yawned at the tall, slender man. “Monkey Qiu,” he drawled, “what are you buying?”

The tall, slender man was named Monkey Qiu; the peddler actually knew him.

Monkey Qiu replied, “A ‘white lamb’ has been ‘illuminated by heavenly light’.”

The peddler took out a key and opened the top tier of the wooden cabinet. “A ‘white lamb’ that’s been ‘illuminated by heavenly light’,” he said, “if he doesn’t want to die, he must be initiated. How do you want to pay? Huan Kingdom notes or silver dollars?”

“Huan Kingdom notes,” Monkey Qiu replied.

The peddler opened a drawer on the cabinet. “I have five types of medicinal powder left,” he announced. “Field Cultivation for thirty thousand, Joy Cultivation for fifty thousand, Food Cultivation for sixty thousand, Travel Cultivation for eighty thousand, and Home Cultivation for one hundred sixty thousand. He doesn’t seem able to speak; will he choose for himself, or will you choose for him?”