Chapter 1: Chapter One: Mo Hua

In the 20,022nd year of the Dao Calendar, the tenth day of the ninth month.

Xiancheng, outside the Xiancheng Gate mountain.

Ten-year-old Mo Hua wore a plain outer-disciple robe, idly crouching behind a massive boulder at the mountain's base, holding a blade of grass root and sketching intricate patterns on the ground.

By the hour of Mao, disciples coming to study gradually ascended the mountain, pairing off in twos or threes, chatting and laughing.

A chubby boy, dressed in the standard outer-disciple robe and adorned with precious jade ornaments, his face round and eyes small, accompanied by two or three followers, found Mo Hua, who was happily drawing something behind the rock.

The chubby boy glanced left and right, saw no instructor nearby, then whispered nervously:

"Mo Hua!"

Mo Hua lifted his head, revealing a delicate, painterly face, his eyes clear as if holding a pool of pure water.

The chubby boy lowered his voice: "Did you finish it?"

Ten-year-old Mo Hua patted his chest like a seasoned adult, "You can trust me," and pulled out several arrays from his storage pouch—white paper with red ink—and handed them to the chubby boy.

"Check if anything's wrong."

The chubby boy took them solemnly, flipped through the copies, studied them carefully, then frowned:

"I don't understand…"

Mo Hua patiently explained:

"The instructor assigned a basic five-element array pattern. I drew it for you, and deliberately made six mistakes so the instructor won't suspect these patterns weren't drawn by you…"

"Six mistakes… isn't that too many?"

Mo Hua stared at him silently.

The chubby boy immediately realized his mistake and reflected:

"One shouldn't be greedy. Just handing in the instructor's assignment is already good enough. If I do it too well, I'll draw suspicion. If the instructor finds out and tells my father, he'll beat me senseless—it's not worth it, not worth it…"

Mo Hua nodded: "No wonder you're Young Master An—you figured it out so fast!"

The chubby boy shoved two spirit stones into Mo Hua's hands. "Mo Ge, you've got such good taste—you know I'm smart! Here's your spirit stones. Next time the instructor assigns an array assignment, I'll come back to you!"

He stuffed the arrays into his robe and sprinted up the mountain.

Mo Hua carefully tucked the two spirit stones away, pulled another blade of grass root, and resumed drawing on the ground.

Soon after, a thin young master arrived, waving a gold-dusted paper fan, his face sharp and cruel, his jade pendants more numerous.

Mo Hua handed him an array diagram. The thin young master glanced at it, then gave a signal to his servant. The servant stepped forward, took the diagram, and handed Mo Hua two spirit stones.

The thin young master took the diagram but didn't leave. Suddenly he snapped shut his fan and spoke haughtily: "I'm exceptionally skilled in arrays myself—just too busy to waste time on these basic patterns, so I hired you to do them for me."

Mo Hua ignored him, picked up the grass root, and kept drawing.

The thin young master grew annoyed and sneered: "They say among the Foundation Establishment cultivators of Xiancheng Gate, you're the best at drawing arrays. How do you compare to me? Got time for a contest?"

Mo Hua thought: You've already had me do your array homework—what do you think your own skill level is?

Still, following the principle of harmony brings profit, Mo Hua lifted his head and chose flattering words:

"Your array cultivation is far superior, of course. The Qian family is the foremost clan of Xiancheng—your array lineage is unmatched by any other cultivator."

The thin young master's expression softened slightly. He asked: "Then tell me, among Xiancheng Gate's Foundation Establishment cultivators, who can match my array skill?"

"There are a few…"

The thin young master frowned. "Who?"

"Like me…" Mo Hua would never be so foolish as to say that.

"Too many to count right now."

The thin young master clearly grew angry.

"That's a good thing!" Mo Hua lied with a straight face.

The thin young master sneered: "People with worse family background than mine, less spirit stones than mine, yet better array skill—there are many such people? Are you implying I'm stupid and inferior? What's good about that?"

Mo Hua said: "All cultivators of Xiancheng, no matter how talented or how well they study, eventually end up working in the Qian family's Ten Thousand Treasures Pavilion, crafting weapons, refining pills, and drawing arrays for your Qian family…"

"Think about it—you're only Foundation Establishment, yet you command Foundation Establishment cultivators; you're only a Rank One Array Master, yet you order Rank Two Array Masters around. How glorious! The stronger your subordinates, the greater your own prestige appears!"

The thin young master froze, then suddenly understood. "Hmm… there's some sense to that."

"Understood now?"

The thin young master nodded, gazed down at the sea of cultivators below, and lifted his chin higher:

"Excellent! Excellent! No matter how talented you are, how hard you cultivate—you'll still end up working like beasts for the Qian family!"

The sharp-faced Young Master Qian strode off, head held high.

After fooling Young Master Qian away, Mo Hua continued practicing arrays on the ground with the grass root.

Soon, several more wealthy cultivators came, paying in spirit stones for the arrays—Mo Hua sold them several. When the hand-copied array transactions were done, he held twelve spirit stones.

Twelve spirit stones were a considerable sum for a lone cultivator, yet still far too little for cultivation.

Mo Hua sighed, a trace of helplessness on his young face.

Low-tier cultivators have no hope of cultivation…

In the first year of the Dao Calendar—over twenty thousand years ago—the greatest power in the cultivation world, the Dao Court, unified the Nine Continents of cultivation, enfeoffed noble families and sects, established a unified ranking system, and standardized cultivation professions.

The Dao Court also issued the Dao Code, restricting cultivators from indiscriminate killing, plundering, or absorbing others' essence.

The cultivation world flourished under this peace for over twenty thousand years, reaching unprecedented prosperity, vast in territory, with countless cultivators.

Yet the Dao Court grew opulent, noble families feasted with bells and cauldrons, sects dominated their territories.

Only the lowly lone cultivators, with no patronage, suffered hardship and had no hope of advancement.

Over twenty thousand years of cultivation world evolution, mortals without spiritual roots gradually died out naturally; those remaining all possessed spiritual roots and could cultivate. But as cultivators multiplied, so did their consumption of spiritual energy—until the heavens and earth's spiritual energy was nearly exhausted.

Now, to cultivate, one needs both lineage and spirit stones.

Yet powerful clans monopolize spirit mines, leaving low-tier lone cultivators starved of spirit stones; major sects control all transmissions, leaving ordinary lone cultivators with no path to cultivation.

In Xiancheng, the vast majority of lone cultivators lack both lineage and spirit stones—and spend their entire lives stuck at the Foundation Establishment realm.

Qi Refining realm cultivators are nothing but humble ants beneath the vast Heavenly Dao.

And Mo Hua is one of those countless ants.

And very likely, he will remain one his whole life!

A touch of bitterness crossed Mo Hua's youthful face.

The Heavenly Dao may be equal, but cultivation absolutely is not…

Mo Hua is a loose cultivator at the second layer of Qi Refining, born into a loose-cultivator family of the Qi Refining realm—both his parents are Qi Refining cultivators.

His father, Seeing Mo Shan, makes a living hunting yao, spending every day fighting demon beasts, his body covered in scars. His mother works as a kitchen helper at a dining hall, where the fire-heat of the stoves invades her body, leaving her with frequent lung pains and dry coughs.

And yet his parents scrimped and saved, hoarding every spirit stone, just so Mo Hua could enter the outer sect of the Tongxian Sect to cultivate.

But no matter how hard Mo Hua cultivated, his mid-low grade spirit root—though slightly better than an ordinary person's—still destined him to be only an ordinary talent in a cultivation world brimming with geniuses like Li Yunyun.

No matter how much he cultivated, he might still only ever be a Qi Refining realm cultivator.

With his family's straitened circumstances and no spirit stones, Mo Hua could only cultivate like an ordinary disciple, reaching the sixth layer of Qi Refining before leaving the sect, then finding some trade to make a living.

But Mo Hua was also born with a weak body!

The trades that Qi Refining cultivators rely on to survive—artifact forging, yao hunting, and the like—generally require a sturdy physique. With his innate weak constitution, Mo Hua might not even be able to find a job to put food on the table.

If he later took a wife and had children, the burden would only grow heavier, and every spirit stone would go toward supporting the family.

Without spirit stones to cultivate, Mo Hua's cultivation would be forever stuck, and he would remain a Qi Refining cultivator his whole life.

Just like all the poor loose cultivators in this Xiancheng.

Just like the countless bottom-tier cultivators of this cultivation world.

A Qi Refining cultivator his whole life!

Ten-year-old Mo Hua sighed, gathered his spirits, and headed into the sect for class. After a day of cultivation, Mo Hua returned to the disciples' quarters, read through some cultivation texts for a while, and lay down on his bed when it reached the hour of the Rat.

The moment Mo Hua closed his eyes, a broken stele appeared within his Sea of Consciousness.

There were no words on the broken stele, but from the very first glance, Mo Hua somehow knew its name:

Dao Stele!