The Overlord of Puluo-Chapter 15: The Peddler

Seeing Li Banfeng’s body go rigid and freeze in place, the rickshaw driver instinctively stepped back twice.
Li Banfeng felt that even breathing was becoming difficult. Before he could even figure out what was wrong with his body, two men emerged from a nearby alley. They wore shirts under vests and Gatsby caps pulled low over their eyes.
Noticing the two men heading straight toward Li Banfeng, the rickshaw driver was startled. He lifted his rickshaw and hurried to leave.
Li Banfeng had never seen these men before.
Who are they? Are they here for me?
They were indeed here for him. These were men sent by Xiao Zhenggong. Ever since Li Banfeng had left the train station, they had been tailing him. Their mission was simple: kill Li Banfeng and take the Arcane Crimson Lotus—the bronze lotus flower he carried.
Li Banfeng tried to reach for the strips of
latiao
in his pocket, but his hand wouldn’t budge.
One of the men in a Gatsby cap slipped a dagger from his sleeve. The other swept a cold glare over the bystanders, silently warning them not to interfere.
Li Banfeng could not fight back, could not defend himself, and could not run. He was frozen in place. Never in his life had he felt such desperation and hopelessness.
As he watched the two men draw closer, a voice suddenly spoke beside him. "Take the child to get something to eat, then wait for me at the clinic."
The lanky man with a height of 1.9 meters helped his wife into a rickshaw. Then he turned and walked up to Li Banfeng, keeping his left hand in his pocket while steadying him with his right.
Upon seeing the lanky man, the two men in Gatsby caps stopped in their tracks. Unsure of his strength or background, they didn’t dare approach recklessly.
One of the men in a Gatsby cap stepped forward. "Oi, cobber. Whose lot you chiv in with? Name your patch."
Li Banfeng was stunned.
What language is this supposed to be?
This wasn’t a foreign language at all;
it was gang slang! What the man in the Gatsby cap meant was: "Friend, which gang are you with? State your origin."
The lanky man understood well enough but didn’t respond, choosing instead to ignore the two men.
When the other guy wearing the Gatsby cap saw that this conversation was going nowhere, he started threatening, "Oi, lad, one o’ the trade, are ya? We are with the Jiangxiang Gang. You’ve heard of our turf, haven’t you? You know the rules. This one’s ours. Knives don’t blink, so keep your bloody boots off our patch."
This man was basically saying, "Friend from the same trade, this man’s life is ours. I can’t say where the blade might land, so it’s best you stay out of it."
The lanky man furrowed his brow and glanced at the two men in Gatsby caps. Suddenly, both felt a jolt in their chests. Their heartbeats slowed, each thump heavy and forceful.
Ba-dump! Ba-dump!
They felt as though their hearts could burst at any time.
One of them muttered under his breath, "A Hedonism Cultivator… and a high-level one."
"Screw this!" The other man realized they were in serious trouble and began to back away.
The lanky man’s strength was far beyond anything they could handle. Without a word, the two spun on their heels and bolted down the street, vanishing into the shadows.
The lanky man didn’t bother chasing them. Keeping his grip on Li Banfeng, he turned to another rickshaw driver and asked, "Is your rickshaw fast?"
"Not really," the rickshaw driver said, avoiding Li Banfeng. Clearly, he didn't want to take Li Banfeng.
This was someone who had been struck by Heavenly Light. Something bad could happen to him at any moment. And he was even mixed up with people from the underworld. Who would dare have anything to do with him?
"You got fire wheels on your rickshaw?" the lanky man asked.
"If I had fire wheels, you think I’d still be hustling for a few bucks?" the rickshaw driver scoffed, shaking his head.
"Anyone at the station got fire wheels?" the man asked, pulling out a ten-yuan bill and handing it over.
Immediately, the rickshaw driver took the bill and grinned widely. "Yes, sir. I’ll take you there."
Ten bucks for doing nothing. Of course he would take it.
The rickshaw driver led the way to the front. The lanky man followed, one hand in his pocket and the other carrying Li Banfeng as they passed through an alley.
At the mouth of the alley squatted a stocky rickshaw driver, puffing on a cigarette. The smoke was acrid, the kind that came from dry tobacco he had rolled himself.
"Sir, this is the guy with the fire wheels," the first rickshaw driver said before quickly leaving.
The lanky man stepped forward and asked the stocky rickshaw driver, "What kind of fire wheels are you running?"
The man looked up. "I’m pulling a rickshaw. What kind of fire wheels do you think I have? Obviously, level one of the Terranean Layer."
The lanky man nodded. "Do you know where the Peddler is?"
The rickshaw driver smacked his lips. "I saw him this morning. It’s a bit far, though, and I’m not sure if he’s still there."
"Distance isn’t an issue. Just name your price."
The rickshaw driver held up five fingers. "Five hundred Huan yuan. No bargaining."
The lanky man set Li Banfeng on the rickshaw, then reached into his coat with one hand and pinched out five one-hundred Huan yuan notes.
Noticing that the man was paying with only one hand, the rickshaw driver glanced at the left hand the man kept in his pocket. It struck him as odd, but he didn’t ask.
After counting the money and confirming the amount was correct, the rickshaw driver stubbed out his cigarette. He hooked his left wrist under the left shaft and pushed the right one down with his right wrist.
Li Banfeng found the way he held the rickshaw strange. One hand pointed up while the other pressed down. No matter how he looked, it seemed awkward.
The truth was Li Banfeng had no idea what this posture meant. It was the yin-yang grip, the proper way to pull a rickshaw. The rickshaw drivers Li Banfeng had seen on TV always lifted the shafts with both hands up. If their strength wavered, the passenger would sway and might even fall out. If a rickshaw driver tried to haul a rickshaw like that, the best he could hope for was losing his fare. The worst was a beating.
With the yin-yang grip, one hand up and the other down, the rickshaw driver lifted the rickshaw in a steady motion and shouted, "Let’s go!"
Before the words were out of his mouth, the rickshaw had already shot out of the alley.
At this point, Li Banfeng was still conscious. Wind roared past his ears as houses and trees blurred along the road. Maybe it was only the narrow alley and the buildings pressing in that created the illusion.
What kind of speed is this?
Li Banfeng thought.
The rickshaw driver actually made the rickshaw feel like a car.
In fact, the lanky man found the rickshaw driver unusual as well, and he asked, "With your skills, you don't seem like someone at the first level of the Terranean Layer."
The rickshaw driver chuckled. "You pay, I pull. We’re not marrying each other, so why ask so many questions? Let me be clear with you. The fellow with you looks like a Bleater touched by Heavenly Light. I’ll get you there, but whether he lives or dies isn’t my problem."
"Relax, he won’t die," the lanky man said. "This young brother’s got luck on his side. He wasn’t supposed to meet the Peddler, but the train got delayed three days. It just so happened that he arrived right when the Peddler arrived."
The rickshaw driver was stunned. "No way. He's that lucky? Did he bump into Lucky Star or something?"
By now, Li Banfeng couldn’t move his neck, so he had no way of seeing the rickshaw driver’s legs or how he ran. All he could do was watch the scenery race past from a fixed angle.
The buildings in this town looked kind of odd. The walls were a mix of brick and stone, neat and tidy with nothing falling apart, yet they still felt old in a way that stirred something in Li Banfeng.
It wasn’t a worn and crumbling antiquity but a distinct kind of weathered charm. Brick and stone walls opened into spacious courtyards, and the bold beams and sweeping eaves carried the elegance of ancient style. At times, the carvings and porthole-like windows on the walls gave the town a touch of Western flair.
Tucked between the streets and alleys were two- and three-story buildings with jutting balconies, arched doors and windows, and ivy climbing over roses. The sight of them made Li Banfeng feel as if he had stepped into a strange era caught in the seams of history.
However, he had no time to think about what era it was. His pounding heart and shallow breath left him feeling the weight of life slipping away.
Meanwhile, the rickshaw driver and the lanky man kept chatting as the rickshaw rolled on. Soon it carried them out of the town and into the open wilderness. There, the rickshaw driver finally stopped and wiped the sweat from his brow.
The rickshaw driver caught his breath, then turned to look at the lanky man and Li Banfeng. "The Peddler is still here! This fella is truly blessed with the fortune of living a long life!"
The lanky man lifted Li Banfeng off the rickshaw and spotted a handcart beneath a willow tree ahead. A large two-tiered wooden cabinet rested on it, with a red lantern set on top.
Beside the cart crouched a man in his thirties, dozing in the shade of the tree.
The rickshaw driver called out to him, "Hey! Still open for business?"
The man opened his eyes, got to his feet, stretched with lazy ease, and pulled out a rattle-drum, shaking it in his hand.
Ding-a-ling, clank-clank! Ding-a-ling, clank-clank!
"Foreign soap, snow moisturizing cream,
Silk scarves, handkerchiefs, sewing kits.
Leather buckets, iron ladles,
Foreign matches, candles, shovels.
Pickle jars, soy sauce pots,
Rice scoops, water ladles, kitchen knives.
A whole cart of fine goods from an old name,
All at fair prices, come take your pick!"
A peddler? This is the Peddler?
Li Banfeng thought.
The Peddler yelled at the lanky man and said with a yawn, "Monkey Qiu, what are you buying?"
It turned out the lanky man’s name was Monkey Qiu, and the Peddler actually knew him.
Monkey Qiu replied, "A Bleater was struck by Heavenly Light."
The peddler pulled out a key and unlocked the first shelf of the wooden cabinet. "If a Bleater struck by Heavenly Light doesn't want to die, he has to start cultivating. So how will you pay? Huan yuan or silver dollars?"
Monkey Qiu replied, "Huan yuan."
The Peddler opened a drawer in the cabinet. “I’ve got five types of powders left. The type for Agrarian Cultivator will cost thirty thousand. Hedonism Cultivator, fifty thousand. Gourmandism Cultivator, sixty thousand. Wanderlust Cultivator, eighty thousand. Homebody Cultivator, one hundred sixty thousand. Looks like he can’t talk anymore. Is he choosing himself, or are you picking for him?”