Chapter 336: Lost Cultivation

A Funeral Cultivator? I’ve never heard of that sect.

Li Banfeng wanted to get a closer look at the person, but Qiu Zhiheng immediately shut the window shutters. “Brother, the less you see, the less bad luck you’ll attract.”

“What kind of sinister sect is that? I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s normal you haven’t heard of it. I’ve lived in Puro State for over forty years, and including this time, I’ve only encountered a Funeral Cultivator three times. Practitioners of this sect don’t usually travel around; they have fixed residences. A Funeral Cultivator only moves when they can no longer find a way to live or cultivate in their original dwelling.”

Li Banfeng didn’t quite understand. “What do you mean by ‘can no longer find a way to live’?”

“It means the people in their original dwelling reached their breaking point and fought them to the death, leaving no way for them to survive there.”

“And what about ‘can no longer find a way to cultivate’?”

“It means they’ve driven all their neighbors mad, forced them to leave, or even killed them. At that point, they have to move somewhere else to continue harming others.”

As the two spoke, Caoye continued to cry beside them. The Mistress comforted her, “Don’t cry, don’t cry. That old scoundrel is wailing for his own ears; you don’t need to pay attention to him!”

The Mistress knew deep down that her comfort wasn’t doing much good.

Qiu Zhiheng explained to Li Banfeng, “This girl has been hit by the Funeral Cultivator’s ‘Tolling Bell’ technique. Every word that old man says is like a knife, stabbing at the most painful spot in her heart, making people lose their will. She might not recover for a month or two.”

Caoye cried for a while, then stared at Li Banfeng. “You, you are... Brother Baisha?”

She had long found Li Banfeng familiar, but having been separated for over a year, Caoye hadn’t dared to recognize him.

The Mistress was startled. “You two know each other?”

Li Banfeng nodded slightly and smiled.

They had thought seeing a familiar face would cheer Caoye up, but after a brief exchange of glances, Caoye began to cry even more miserably.

“I’m just useless, a good-for-nothing. Brother Baisha, you shouldn’t have saved me back then. Letting me die would have been a release.”

Before Li Banfeng could reply, the old Funeral Cultivator, who had somehow moved from the doorway to outside the courtyard wall, overheard Caoye’s words and specifically added:

“You said death would be a release, and I think that makes sense. What’s the point of living a lifetime? It’s just to accomplish something. What can a person like you accomplish? Deliver medicinal herbs from Sanpu Village to Ligou, then drive an empty cart back? Does that even require a human? Train your two donkeys well, and they’ll do it better than you! What’s the point of you being alive?”

The Mistress could no longer bear it and shouted, “Shameless old dog, spew your nonsense elsewhere!”

Qiu Zhiheng pulled the Mistress, signaling her not to be reckless.

But the Mistress had already cursed; it was too late.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” A very loud smacking sound came from outside the gate.

Those three smacks of the lips were a prelude to the Funeral Cultivator employing his technique.

The old man began, “Listen, listen, all you neighbors, everyone passing by, listen! This apothecary opened for business, yet they curse people! Did you hear how nasty her words were just now?”

The Mistress retorted, “Why don’t you talk about how nasty your own words are?”

“What did I say? What did I say?” From his tone to his expression, the old man feigned utter innocence. “I didn’t say anything! All I said was that the young girl’s words made sense, and this woman just started cursing! You all heard it! I came to the apothecary to buy medicine, and they closed the door when they saw me. I hadn’t even said a word, and their woman just opened her mouth and cursed me!”

What now?

Should they continue to argue with him?

Of course not.

Firstly, ordinary people couldn’t win an argument against them.

Qiu Zhiheng understood Funeral Cultivators. “This is one of their techniques, called ‘Portent of Doom.’ To master this skill, all Funeral Cultivators undergo special training. No matter how much you argue, a Funeral Cultivator can always present their logic, and the longer the argument, the more they gain the upper hand.”

If a quarrelsome old woman were here, I wonder if she could out-argue this old scoundrel.

Monkey Qiu continued, “Besides that, arguing with a Funeral Cultivator brings us no advantage, win or lose. He’s just passing by, arguing right at our doorstep. What’s damaged is our reputation and business, while he suffers no loss. Furthermore, the longer we argue with him, the greater our losses. It’s not just our reputation; it’s our *feng shui* too. Under the criticism of onlookers, the *feng shui* of our apothecary will be ruined by him.”

The Mistress sighed, “Zhiheng, this is all your fault. If only you had listened to Manager Feng, we could have avoided this disaster.”

Caoye, with tears in her eyes, said, “Brother Qiu, Sister-in-law, that old man came for me. I’ll just leave; I absolutely cannot implicate you.”

“Silly girl, where would you go? Being entangled by a Funeral Cultivator means someone will die.” The Mistress pulled Caoye and led her into the house.

The old Funeral Cultivator continued his rant outside the wall.

To be honest, Li Banfeng still hadn’t grasped what made this Funeral Cultivator so formidable.

Qiu Zhiheng was usually a serious person; otherwise, Li Banfeng would have suspected he was joking.

When in doubt, ask. Li Banfeng said, “Brother Qiu, is this Funeral Cultivator very strong in a fight?”

Why keep such a shameless old scoundrel around?

Just as Li Banfeng was about to step out, Qiu Zhiheng stepped forward to stop him. “Brother, don’t!”

If it were that simple, Qiu Zhiheng would have gone out already.

Li Banfeng asked, “Do they have a sect backing them? Are you worried about retaliation? Don’t worry, I’ll handle it cleanly.”

Qiu Zhiheng shook his head. “If it were about a backing sect, I truly wouldn’t fear him. After all, I’ve stumbled and fought my way through the underworld for many years.”

The Mistress said, “Brother Li Qi, you don’t know, there’s an old saying: ‘Better to drink a bowl of soup from a Gold Cultivator than to inflict the slightest injury on a Funeral Cultivator.’”

A bowl of soup from a Gold Cultivator?

Li Banfeng was stunned for a moment. “Mistress, when you say ‘a bowl of soup from a Gold Cultivator,’ you don’t mean that...”

“Yes, exactly, that stuff from the barrel! Drink one bowl, and you’ll only feel sick for two days at most.”

Li Banfeng waved his hand. “Two days isn’t enough; it’d be many days of misery.”

The Mistress said, “If we harm a Funeral Cultivator, we’ll suffer for a lifetime. They’ll cling to us forever.”

“Then kill him.”

“Kill him, and his spirit will still haunt us.”

“Then collect his spirit too.”

“If you collect his spirit, other Funeral Cultivators will sense it and continue to harass us.”

“Then kill them all, until their sect is exterminated!” Hearing the curses from outside, Li Banfeng grew increasingly infuriated.

Qiu Zhiheng shook his head. “Funeral Cultivators ruin luck. If you really fight with them for a lifetime, how can you live? Let me think of a way to deal with this.”

Li Banfeng looked beyond the wall, gritting his teeth slightly. “If only General Genzi were here, to feed this old scoundrel a few spoonfuls, then we’d see how rampant he could be.”

Ma Wu disembarked from the train at Kudaikan. Two flamboyantly dressed women in their twenties immediately approached him.

“Sir, have you found a place to stay? Our inn is the most affordable.”

“A single room is one hundred and fifty, a shared dorm room is fifty.”

“You have no eye for detail. Look at this gentleman’s attire; you can tell he’s not one to stay in a shared dorm. We have superior rooms for three hundred yuan a night, and my sister and I will warm your bed together.”

Ma Wu politely declined the two young women. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to conduct his business. Someone once lingered near Kudaikan Station for a month and couldn’t manage to leave.

Leaving the station, Ma Wu hailed a rickshaw. The rickshaw puller asked, “Honored guest, would you like to find a place to rest then come again, or come first then rest?”

Ma Wu chuckled, “Is there anywhere I can ‘come’ and rest at the same time?”

The rickshaw puller nodded. “Oh yes, too many to count.”

Ma Wu loved the atmosphere of Kudaikan; he could never get enough of the place, even after visiting a hundred times.

“Take me to a cinema first.”

The rickshaw puller was surprised. Guests who went to watch movies immediately after getting off the train were rare.

“Which cinema would you like to go to?”

“Recommend one.”

“Would you prefer to watch lying down or sitting up?”

This was a unique custom of Kudaikan: watching a movie lying down meant lying on a large bed in a private box, with someone accompanying you.

Ma Wu was there for serious business, so naturally, he couldn’t watch while lying down. He first had the rickshaw puller take him on a tour of the town, then chose a cinema where one could watch while sitting.

Before long, Ma Wu arrived at the cinema, bought a ticket for "Blood Blade Detective," and settled into his seat.

Then a young woman came and sat on Ma Wu’s lap.

This was what “watching while sitting” entailed.

In Kudaikan, "Blood Blade Detective" had rather average attendance. There were fewer than ten people in the entire cinema, which made it convenient for the young woman to carry out her actions.

However, "Blood Gun Detective" was selling extremely well; afternoon and evening tickets were all sold out, and anyone wanting to buy tickets had to wait until the midnight show.

Halfway through the movie, Ma Wu occasionally glanced at the young woman’s eyes but saw no ‘roots of passion’.

This was somewhat different from the situation at Heishipo.

In Heishipo, as soon as one entered the cinema, ‘roots of passion’ would definitely appear in their eyes.

But as soon as they left the cinema for three to five hours, these ‘roots of passion’ in their eyes would slowly disappear.

In other words, the movie "Blood Blade Detective" only made money from one wave of audience. This group of viewers, influenced by the ‘roots of passion,’ would watch one show after another in the cinema.

However, once they left the cinema, they would find it dull and uninteresting, just like Aqin and Huoling, who had no desire to return to the cinema the next day.

But what was the purpose of doing this?

Just to earn a few more ticket sales?

Upon closer inspection, it indeed yielded a considerable profit. In Heishipo, according to information Ma Wu had, "Blood Blade Detective" sold three times more tickets than the previous installment.

According to Ma Wu’s deduction, "Blood Blade Detective 6" was likely the first time they added ‘roots of passion’ to a movie.

Who were ‘they’?

How much risk did this entail?

If people found out they were tampering with the movies, could they continue this business?

Was there a way to break this?

As Ma Wu pondered, the young woman on his lap wiped her lips and suddenly stood up and left.

It was good that she left; Ma Wu was starting to feel a bit weary, so he simply decided to watch the movie properly.

A moment later, another woman sat on Ma Wu’s lap and said with a smile, “Wulang, you came to my territory to have fun, but you didn’t even let me know.”

Ma Wu chuckled, “It was precisely to let you know that I took a stroll around town.”

He handed the bloodstained handkerchief to Feng Daiku, who was in front of him, and whispered, “Take a look. Do you recognize this?”

Feng Daiku smiled, thinking the blood was from the bed. “Which girl did you ruin this time?”

But after smelling the blood, Feng Daiku’s smile instantly vanished.

“Wulang, this is a fake ‘root of passion.’ Where did you get this?”