Chapter 249: Winning Half

The Saint held his teacup, gently swirling its contents. Li Banfeng's imposing aura swept over him, arousing both surprise and a sense of familiarity in the Saint.

“Have you been on a battlefield?” the Saint inquired.

“Something like that,” Li Banfeng replied vaguely, seeing no need to be more specific. Besides, it was a truthful statement; whether he had been on a battlefield depended on the specific definition of such a place. By all accounts, the battle between Autumn Falling Leaves and Water Gushing Spring could be considered a proper battlefield.

The Saint then asked, “How old are you?”

Li Banfeng pondered for a moment. “I can’t recall,” he said. “Perhaps I'm about your age.” This was a half-truth. While Li Banfeng’s age couldn’t possibly match the Saint’s, he genuinely couldn't remember his own age, being an orphan.

As the Saint's imposing presence continued to contend with Li Banfeng's aura, a disciple, overcome by curiosity, yearned to see the kind of person who could stand as an equal to his master. He lifted his gaze to peek into the room, a subtle movement immediately noticed by the Saint. With a flick of his sleeve, the face of the disciple outside the door contorted. The veins on his head suddenly bulged and then burst, spraying blood. In an instant, the disciple lay lifeless.

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 is my rule. If he doesn’t kneel well, he isn't obeying my rule, and he deserves to die. Do you understand now?”

Li Banfeng glanced outside the door, pointing to another disciple. “He isn’t kneeling well either. Look at his posture—slack and clearly lacking sincerity. Kill another one for me to see; perhaps after a few more times, I’ll understand.”

The tea in the cup sloshed again. The Saint was furious, but he restrained himself. Li Banfeng took a sip of tea. He was deeply nervous, but he showed no trace of it on his face.

The Saint placed the teacup on the table, looking at Li Banfeng. “Do you know who I am?”

Li Banfeng retorted, “What do you think?”

“Do you know that peddlers rarely dare to enter my territory?” The Saint wasn't lying; peddlers indeed seldom came.

Li Banfeng seized the opportunity to continue, “That’s precisely why I’m here. As an elder martial brother, I must restore some dignity for my junior martial brother.” Even if he was bluffing, he had to make it convincing. Though bolstered by Hong Ying’s power, Li Banfeng would be in a dangerous position if he failed to intimidate his opponent.

The Saint suddenly laughed, his grim expression softening. “Do you think you can restore that dignity?”

Li Banfeng shook his head. “No, I can’t restore it. I’ve lost half, but I didn’t lose to you!”

Lost half.

The Saint fell silent for a moment, then burst into hearty laughter. He greatly approved of the statement: “You have a point; you truly didn’t lose to me. I can agree to your terms. Tomorrow evening, at this same time, you will leave with your people. From this fortress, you may take as many as wish to follow you. You must depart before ten o’clock, heading south, and continue until you find your way out. Once you are gone, this matter will be considered closed. Should you ever find a way to reclaim your dignity in the future, I will be here, waiting for you!”

Li Banfeng nodded. “It’s a deal.”

“Our encounter is a matter of fate. I have something else to give you.” With a wave of the Saint’s hand, a white-robed disciple, carrying a book box, shuffled on his knees to Li Banfeng’s side.

Li Banfeng took the book box, looking at the young man in white. “You can walk on your knees quite proficiently; it seems you’ve practiced. However, you weren’t fully focused just now. The steps of your two knees were clearly uneven, which I believe indicates insufficient respect. Walk back and forth a few more times, and let me see your sincerity.”

As Li Banfeng spoke, cold sweat streamed down the young man’s face. He truly feared his master would believe Li Banfeng’s words and take his life immediately.

The Saint did not trouble the white-robed disciple. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed him from the wooden house.

Li Banfeng accepted the book box but did not open it hastily. He weighed it in his hand, estimating it contained four or five books.

The Saint said to Li Banfeng, “These are historical records, genuine historical records. Don’t you want to open it and take a look?”

Li Banfeng shook his head. “There’s no rush to read. What if I come across some characters I don’t recognize and give you cause to mock me?” These historical books absolutely could not be opened in front of the Saint. Li Banfeng had claimed to be of similar age to the Saint, but if he was unfamiliar with historical records, or even unable to discern the authenticity of these books, it would inevitably expose his ignorance. The consequences of such a slip were clear.

The Saint chuckled. “Even if you dislike reading, you should know the value of historical records from Puro Province. These few volumes alone are enough to acquire immense wealth. This gift is far from insignificant.”

Li Banfeng thanked him and casually placed the book box aside.

The Saint stood up. “I have shown ample sincerity; I hope you keep your word. Tomorrow night at ten, I will come to observe your situation. If you deceive me, I will keep you here forever. Then we shall see who regrets it.” With that, the Saint departed.

Li Banfeng called out to the Saint’s retreating back, “Won’t you leave a written agreement?”

The Saint laughed. “A gentleman’s agreement requires no such thing.”

The imposing aura descended once more, and Li Banfeng forcibly restrained himself from trembling. Was Li Banfeng truly afraid of him? But was there truly no way to deal with him? Not necessarily. He could have continued to ambush and entangle, turning the entire Wretch’s Ridge upside down to gain more advantages. Even if the Saint intended to act ruthlessly, Li Banfeng could have escaped back to his Portable Abode for temporary refuge.

However, Li Banfeng decided to leave. As he had stated, he hadn't lost to the Saint, yet in this confrontation, he had already lost half. There were some things he simply couldn't change. He also understood one thing: why peddlers rarely came to Wretch’s Ridge.

After seeing the Saint off, Li Banfeng called for Xiao Yeci. “Have you decided whether you will come with me or stay here?”

Xiao Yeci puffed out her chest. “I will follow you, Benefactor; I won’t stay here.”

Li Banfeng confirmed again, “No hesitation, ready to leave at a moment’s notice?”

Xiao Yeci replied earnestly, “If Benefactor says to go, I will go, without the slightest hesitation.”

Lu Chunying, standing nearby, interjected, “Letting my mom change her pants first, that doesn’t count as hesitation, does it?”

Li Banfeng replied seriously, “Changing pants doesn't count. Once you’ve changed, go into the fortress and ask for me: how many want to stay, and how many wish to leave. You must tell me before eight tomorrow evening.”

Xiao Yeci naturally dared not delay in carrying out Li Banfeng's instructions. She went from door to door, asking everyone. She knew these people no longer wanted to engage in robbery or take risks. However, she believed that if given the chance to leave this place, they would surely agree without hesitation.

But she was mistaken. After going around, not a single person immediately agreed to follow their Benefactor. Their answers were vague. “Sister Xiao, I injured my foot while pushing the cart and need two more days to recover.”

“Madam Xiao, we can’t leave these two days. As the saying goes, ‘troops first, provisions second.’ If we’re to leave, we must wait until the next harvest is in.”

They didn't want to leave and tried every possible excuse to delay their departure. Upon closer inquiry, there were three main reasons. Firstly, those who had been abducted had nowhere to go, even if they left this place. Secondly, those sent by their families feared they would simply be sent back again, even if they returned home. Thirdly, those who didn't trust Li Banfeng believed he couldn't possibly be a match for the Saint and wouldn't be able to lead them out alive.

To Xiao Yeci, all three reasons held some validity. However, in Li Banfeng’s view, none of these three reasons were the main point. The crucial point was that they could continue to live their lives as they were. As long as life was bearable, they were willing to continue living it this way. This was within Li Banfeng's expectations. This place was different; unlike Medicine King’s Gully, Greenwater City, or Iron Gate Fort, people who had stayed here for a long time were entirely distinct from those elsewhere.

At eight o'clock the next evening, Li Banfeng set off immediately, without the slightest hesitation or delay. Upon reaching the fortress gate, Niu Guangda tied his ox aside, slung his bundle over his back, and walked behind Li Banfeng. “Benefactor, I went to graze the ox to avoid attracting attention. I am determined to follow you. Wherever you go, I will go. I don't want to stay here and suffer.”

Li Banfeng smiled; this young man still had hope. As they walked, more than twenty people joined them. They were all young, and they believed Li Banfeng could lead them out. The remaining people who didn't leave continued to live a stable life in the fortress.

Unfortunately, this stability was short-lived. Not long after Li Banfeng’s departure, a disciple of the Saint arrived. He demanded that seventy percent of the Benefactor’s Fortress’s yield—whether grain, livestock, or silk—be surrendered to Saint Peak.

Seventy percent? Wasn't that too high?

The residents of the fortress initially intended to refuse, but this disciple possessed cultivation. After killing several people in succession, he patiently explained to the crowd: “Your Benefactor has left, and no one is protecting you now. The Saint’s patience is also running thin. If you do not repent, you will truly lose your lives.”

Their Benefactor had left. Apart from him, no one dared challenge the Saint. Why had the Benefactor left just like that? Why couldn’t he have stayed with them? Handing over seventy percent… that was acceptable. They could barely survive on the remaining thirty percent, but back in their villages, they sometimes didn’t even keep thirty percent of their harvest. Life now was considerably better.

Outside the fortress gate, the Saint observed everything happening within. He watched with his own eyes as the residents of the fortress went from attempting to resist, to daring not to speak their anger, and finally, to not even daring to be angry. Soon, another village would appear here; such a scene had occurred before. They would forget the origin of this village, they would surrender more of their harvest, and the Saint’s disciples would soon come to lecture. Before long, the Saint would become the most important presence in their lives. As for their Benefactor, the people here would no longer mention him easily. A young man had just spoken, his tone full of contempt: “He just left, without looking back. He never wanted to take us with him at all.”

The Saint looked south and asked his white-robed disciple, “Do you think he will return?”

The white-robed disciple respectfully replied, “He has already lost to Master; he will never dare to return.”

The Saint shook his head. “I believe he will return, and he hasn't lost. He won half. To escape my territory so swiftly, apart from the peddlers, only he has done so. For that alone, he must be counted as having won. As for the other half, he did indeed lose, but not to me—he lost to these wretches, these incorrigible wretches.”

The Saint continued to observe every movement within Benefactor’s Fortress. He found Wretch’s Ridge to be so charming. He then turned his face south again and said to the white-robed disciple, “Pass a message to your second senior brother: this person’s identity must be thoroughly investigated.”