Chapter 867: Monster

Chapter 867: The Strange

"Peng!" The heavy sack crashed heavily onto Feng Bawan's soaked back, causing his legs to tremble instantly.

"Another bag! Another bag!" Beads of sweat streaming down his face, Feng Bawan shouted with his neck stretched forward.

As another sack pressed down on his back, Feng Bawan exerted all his strength to carry the load forward toward the construction site.

Though it was exhausting, he did not slacken in the slightest—here, work meant real meals.

"Clang clang clang!!" The sound of gongs rang out. "Dinner time! Dinner time!"

All workers immediately dropped their tasks and looked expectantly at the heavy baskets carried by the bamboo poles. This was their only hope now.

The quilt covering the food was lifted, revealing golden soy sauce fried rice that made everyone’s mouths water.

This wasn’t just soy sauce fried rice—it contained wild vegetables and mushrooms, and even more surprisingly, bits of meat.

Not rice and meat, but genuine pork—something that had become rare as famine had diminished.

Without even wiping the sweat from his forehead, Feng Bawan picked up his chopsticks and began scooping the tender, fragrant, and delicious rice into his mouth.

It was merely a bowl of soy sauce fried rice, yet it tasted like dragon liver and phoenix marrow.

He scooped half a bowl before lifting the soup bowl assigned to him and drinking it down.

Looking down at the vegetable soup in his bowl, he noticed a thin layer of pork fat floating on top, prompting him to drink it with delight.

A sip, and his whole body shivered. A flavor beyond description danced across his tongue, lingering long after. Truly, a feast.

"Hah," Feng Bawan wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve and let out a long breath. "This is what real life should be like."

At that moment, whispers from nearby workers reached his ears.

"Hey, things are getting better every day. Look at how much soy sauce they're using—it's so rich. When my wife was alive, she never spared this much soy sauce."

"Yeah, this food is better than anything I've eaten before."

"This is all thanks to the Bodhisattva. All this grain came from him."

"I heard it took days and nights to deliver. The Zhengde Temple has piled it up into a mountain of grain!"

Feng Bawan didn't join in the conversation—he knew more. He had seen the red-robed Bodhisattva himself.

Although the Bodhisattva had a temper, in his heart, he was a savior of suffering.

In that moment, the vague stories he'd heard from elders suddenly took shape.

He even set up an altar at home—a clay statue crafted by the master Liu, with the Bodhisattva's sword and red robe looking remarkably authentic.

Before the statue stood a plaque inscribed with “Zhuge Yuan’s Seat.”

Though there were no incense sticks now, he still paid homage daily, offering prayers both day and night. On the first and fifteenth of each lunar month, he would save some rice to offer as tribute.

"Ssshh," Feng Bawan clutched his stomach in pain. It hurt again. Ever since eating the mushrooms he grew himself, he suffered these spasms periodically. He couldn’t figure out why.

Just then, a flash of red swept across the horizon from the corner of his eye.

"Zhuge Bodhisattva?" Feng Bawan ignored his stomachache and stood up, but the red streak was already far away.

Meanwhile, Li Huowang was completely absorbed in the city defenses below, paying no attention to the insignificant gaze.

The once-rotten and collapsed walls were slowly rising again. Even if nothing lay within them, the foundation must be built first.

Facing possible attacks from the Tianchen army anywhere, Li Huowang dared not relax.

If his teleportation speed and range allowed him to send people over, he shouldn’t have too many. But better safe than sorry—better to prepare in advance.

The newly established Heavenly Observing Bureau of Great Qi had already learned about the origin of Tianchen. They not only began patrolling the surrounding areas but also expanded their numbers.

Yet not everyone could possess such talent. Few sects or schools could join, and Great Qi’s overall strength hadn’t improved much.

Only the military arts could expand rapidly. As more citizens enlisted, the martial arts sects were slowly reestablishing themselves.

Yet strangely, Tianchen seemed unpressured. Despite Great Qi’s quick recovery, no one came to attack or strike secretly.

Li Huowang didn’t rush. Time was on his side. The longer it dragged on, the stronger Great Qi would become.

If Great Qi truly regained its former power, Tianchen’s chances of borrowing passage would vanish entirely.

But something unsettled Li Huowang recently. Though he hadn’t deceived anyone, non-corporeal beings kept appearing in increasing numbers.

Not just a few, but many—and growing.

While such beings might prove useful in future battles, it was simply too strange.

"What’s going on? Could it be a plot by the Forgetful Dao? Is the dice involved too? Or perhaps North Wind’s doing?"

But upon reflection, it seemed unlikely. North Wind lacked such ability. And after reviewing all the tricks of the Forgetful Dao, he’d never seen them give non-corporeal beings to others.

They always tricked others, never gave.

"Could it be a new scam? Using non-corporeal beings to trick other non-corporeal beings?"

"When I get back, I’ll let Sui Sui stir up some trouble for the Forgetful Dao. That way, they won’t come and mess with me."

As he thought, Li Huowang arrived at the inner palace of Youdu City. He floated directly downward.

The imperial city of Youdu had been rebuilt by the Mohists, but now there was no emperor—only the Heavenly Observing Bureau had taken full control.

"Master, the Qian family and our colleagues skilled in divination have not predicted where they will emerge," said the envoy.

Li Huowang didn’t blame them. In this world, no matter how much people calculated, they could only see within the world itself. How could they possibly predict the existence of the Vacuum Homeland?

Besides, Great Qi’s feng shui had come to a standstill. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t calculate anything anymore. Choosing auspicious dates or observing stars was out of the question.

"Since they can’t calculate, tell them to stop trying and focus on preparing for war."

The military arts sect had just left when the abbot of Zhengde Temple stepped forward. "Namo Amitabha. Master Li, I have something to say."

"Are you sick? Isn’t this the time for politeness? Just spit it out."

After careful consideration, the abbot spoke: "Master Li, I believe we’re not at that point yet. Perhaps we can negotiate further with them."

"There’s something in what you said. Li Huowang looked at him seriously, a faint cold smile spreading across his face. What? Are you thinking that the grain offered by Tianchen is better? That cooperation between Great Qi and Tianchen would be better?"

"Master Chan Du, you’re a monk, not a businessman counting pennies."

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