Chapter 1019

Not just Feng Zichen, but by now, nearly all cultivators outside the arena had realized it.

They watched Mo Hua within the Sword Debate Arena, his figure light and fluid as water, moving effortlessly beneath the impenetrable storm of swordlight—yet not a single fold of his robe had been torn.

This shock choked their throats, leaving them speechless.

Top-tier body technique?!

Could this Mo Hua truly possess a body technique superior to the very best of Qian Xue's prodigies?

Could his body technique even surpass that of the prodigies carrying the pinnacle transmissions of Xiao Yao Men and the Feng Clan?

This… how is that possible?

Everyone found it unbelievable.

Especially the cultivators of Xiao Yao Men and the Feng Clan.

Their strongest disciples, their most refined body techniques, had been utterly outclassed by this mere Mo Hua—emotionally and rationally, they could not accept it, and felt their faces burned with shame.

Old Master Feng's expression turned even more grim.

At the same time, his face felt as if it were on fire.

Especially when he recalled the bold boasts he'd made before the Sword Debate—that the Feng Clan's youths possessed peerless body techniques and would surely cut Mo Hua down on the swordfield.

Old Master Feng's face nearly cracked under the pressure.

Grand Elder Zhang stared at the image of Mo Hua on the Sky Mirror, his heart trembling with awe.

Is this the Qian Xue Sword Debate?

Is this what a pinnacle prodigy truly looks like?

He had once thought Feng Zichen's body technique was already unimaginably strong among his peers.

Yet now he realized: beyond the heavens lie higher heavens, beyond people stand greater people.

There could still be a body technique even more formidable than this.

"Mo Hua…"

That name seemed to carry a kind of magic, etched deep into Grand Elder Zhang's heart.

Grand Elder Zhang turned his head again, looking toward Old Master Feng.

They had been old friends for decades; he naturally did not wish to see Old Master Feng humiliated, so he sighed and said:

"I won't hide it from you, Brother Feng—this child Zichen's body technique talent is the greatest I've ever seen."

"Such a prodigy's talent is far beyond anything our Zhang Clan's generation can match."

"His body technique lineage is also vastly superior to our Zhang Clan's ancestral transmission."

"But… both of us know the truth."

"This is Qian Xue Province, where prodigies gather thick as clouds, each more terrifying than the last."

"Brother Feng, there are always greater people out there…"

Grand Elder Zhang used his own clan as a cushion to flatter the Feng Clan, yet what he said was all true.

Upon hearing this, Old Master Feng felt slightly relieved; after a moment's thought, he sighed and bowed to Grand Elder Zhang:

"I was too attached to victory, too eager to compete, and underestimated the prodigies of other sects—that's why I spoke so rashly. I apologize for embarrassing you, Brother Zhang."

"Brother Feng, you overstate it," Grand Elder Zhang shook his head, then praised:

"This child Zichen carries two pinnacle body technique lineages from the same origin; the deeper he cultivates, the more exquisite they become—his future is boundless."

"Youthful brilliance often brings arrogance; this setback will help him temper his nature—it's a good thing. No need to rush."

"Yes…" Old Master Feng nodded, his heart considerably eased.

Yet at the same time, he remained deeply puzzled:

"Brother Zhang, this child Zichen carries both Xiao Yao Men's Treading Wind Step and our Feng Clan's Drifting Wind Step—these are already pinnacle body technique transmissions."

"This Mo Hua… what body technique is he using? How could it surpass even our Feng Clan's and Xiao Yao Men's transmissions?"

"This…"

Grand Elder Zhang frowned.

He looked up again at Mo Hua, fell into deep thought, then slowly murmured:

"It's a… unique water-element body technique lineage, but it's certainly not Flowing Water Step."

"Flowing Water Step is merely a disguise."

"This body technique… shifts and dodges within the narrowest space, the body like water, flowing with the current."

"In its slowness, it is like a stream rising from a mountain ravine; in its speed, it is like a river rushing away…"

"In its subtleties, countless transformations; in its flow, endless renewal…"

"Moreover, there is mist—hazy, indistinct, clinging, elusive…"

"Truly exquisite, brimming with countless refinements; its meridian patterns are archaic—I can't even discern its origin…"

Grand Elder Zhang frowned.

Old Master Feng nodded repeatedly.

The Zhang Clan was a body technique family; Grand Elder Zhang was Liu Yuhua—his insight and experience were exceptional.

Yet as he listened, he suddenly felt something was off.

"Brother Zhang…"

Old Master Feng studied Mo Hua, then turned back to Grand Elder Zhang, his expression strange, unable to help asking:

"Why do I feel this boy is using your Zhang Clan's 'Fading Water Step'?"

Even Grand Elder Zhang of the Zhang Clan was genuinely stunned.

Behind him, Zhang Lan stood rigid, face grim, his feet digging into the ground as if trying to claw out a hole to jump into.

"Fading Water Step?"

Zhang's senior elder frowned, momentarily stunned.

This was truly a possibility he had never imagined.

It was no wonder he couldn't think of it—indeed…

Even if he racked his brains, he could not fathom how a disciple of the Grand Void Gate, the leader of the Qianxue Array School, a prodigy of the Sword Debate Assembly, could possibly traverse thousands of miles to learn his Zhang family's Flowing Water Step.

And this Flowing Water Step had long surpassed the Wind-Treading Step of the Free and Easy Gate and the Eight Trigrams Wind-Walking Step of the Feng family.

Could his Zhang family's Flowing Water Step really be this powerful?

He wished it were, but was it possible?

"Impossible…" Zhang's senior elder shook his head slightly. "Though the boy uses a water-element body technique, the flow of spiritual energy in the details differs, and the variations are far greater—it doesn't resemble the Flowing Water Step at all."

"Moreover, the Flowing Water Step is our Zhang family's most secret art—how could an outsider possibly learn it?"

"Could it be…" Feng's elder worried, "that one of your family's supreme techniques has been leaked?"

"Absolutely impossible!"

Zhang's senior elder said solemnly: "This is the legacy passed down by our Laozu. To steal from our ancestors and leak it outside—our Zhang family would never have such a traitorous disciple!"

"If such a disciple truly existed, even if I didn't flay his skin or rip out his tendons, I would surely punish him to kneel for a hundred years before our ancestors' ancestral hall, eating bran and choking on coarse vegetables…"

It was like a thunderclap in a clear sky.

Zhang Lan felt his scalp go numb, his head buzzing, his heart turning cold.

From the very beginning, all his worries about the Flowing Water Step had, at this exact moment, come true without warning.

Mo Hua had used the Flowing Water Step—and been seen.

To be seen was bad enough, but it happened at the Sword Debate Assembly, on the massive Fangtian Huaying projection, witnessed by nearly every cultivator in the Qianxue Province…

Most importantly, it had been seen directly by his own Zhang family's senior elder.

That wasn't all—what was worse…

Someone from outside had learned the Zhang family's body technique.

This outsider had learned it better than the Zhang family.

So well that the senior elder himself had not even realized it was his own family's art…

If this matter remained hidden, fine—but once the senior elder found out…

Zhang Lan dared not think further.

He could only grit his teeth, sit upright, stare straight ahead, and hold his breath.

He pretended to be a "stone statue," not daring to breathe.

Afraid that even one extra breath might reveal his guilt to the senior elder.

And Zhang's senior elder, for the moment, truly did not suspect him.

After all, in his mind, Mo Hua could not possibly be using the Zhang family's Flowing Water Step.

And on the Fangtian Huaying, the Sword Debate continued.

But the battle's outcome had already become clear.

Feng Zichen, the strongest disciple of the Free and Easy Gate, had been outmaneuvered in body technique, and thus delayed a fraction in his swordplay.

Once a wind-element fast-sword technique slowed, its power naturally plummeted.

He could not possibly slay Mo Hua within a short time.

Theoretically, he could miss countless times—so long as he landed one strike, Mo Hua would die.

Mo Hua could succeed countless times—so long as he missed once, failed to dodge one slash, he too would die.

But that single, seemingly simple yet impossibly remote strike filled Feng Zichen with utter despair.

On the surface, Mo Hua was not the strongest disciple of the Grand Void Gate—the strongest was the sword prodigy Linghu Xiao.

Mo Hua had first concealed himself, then used the Flowing Water Step, then switched to the Flowing Water Step again and again, wasting vast amounts of Feng Zichen's time.

That time was bought for Linghu Xiao.

The other Free and Easy Gate disciples, though able to temporarily overwhelm Linghu Xiao with their fast swords, could never truly defeat him.

As time passed, their swords would grow slower and slower.

And Linghu Xiao, finally, seized the opening granted by Mo Hua's delay, activated his Chongxu Sword Qi, and shattered the Free and Easy Gate's Wind Sword formation.

Once the Wind Sword formation broke, Linghu Xiao burst forth like a tiger from its cage, and under the cover of Cheng Mo and the others, began slaughtering indiscriminately.

The Free and Easy Gate disciples naturally fell back step by step.

And Feng Zichen, the Free and Easy Gate's prodigy, abandoned all thoughts of victory, focused solely on killing Mo Hua—indeed, even just stabbing him once.

Just one stab.

Even if he couldn't kill Mo Hua, just stabbing him would suffice.

Even if he could only tear a corner of his robe.

As long as he could truly, tangibly touch that water-like, mist-like, ghostly figure.

Beyond that, he asked for nothing else.

But he could not strike him.

No matter how fast his body technique, how swift his blade, no matter how close his meridians were to exhaustion, how densely he swung his sword like wind—he could not land a single hit on Mo Hua.

Linghu Xiao, joined by Ouyang Xuan and the other three, slew four Free and Easy Gate disciples, then gathered around to surround Feng Zichen.

Mo Hua, having been hunted the entire match, now had a chance to catch his breath, and turned to use spells to "discipline" Feng Zichen.

The outcome was inevitable.

This Free and Easy Gate prodigy, the Feng family's jewel, lost.

Not just lost.

Before his defeat, Feng Zichen's face turned pale, his spirit shattered, his Dao heart visibly cracking.

The scene moved everyone to pity, and sighs and groans rose up.

"This Mo Hua is deeply guilty!"

"Another prodigy, just ruined and humiliated by him…"

"Just watching this makes me ache…"

"It's not Feng Zichen's fault—who could have imagined this damned Mo Hua has such a superb body technique?"

"Where on earth did he learn this terrifying body technique?"

"Which damned bastard helped him, enabling him to learn this shameless body technique?"

Some had realized the truth:

"This Mo Hua's body technique is so good—was all his earlier frantic fleeing just an act?"

"Hss—"

Everyone drew in a sharp breath.

"It's not a cat playing with a mouse—it's a mouse playing with a cat?"

"He's mocking Feng Zichen?"

"No," someone shook their head, "he's not just mocking Feng Zichen—he's mocking all of us…"

At the time, everyone had been gleefully waiting to see Mo Hua humiliated.

In the end, they all became the joke.

Everyone had been toyed with by Mo Hua.

Thinking of this, everyone fell silent. Their faces burned, and a fire of rage surged in their chests.

In silence they raged, but could only remain silent in rage, choking on words they could not speak.

But regardless, Mo Hua's "reputation" had grown again.

Of course, this reputation was steeped in controversy.

…

Afterward, the Sword Discussion Assembly continued, and disciples from other sects began their matches.

But Elder Feng was distracted.

With Mo Hua and Feng Zichen's miraculous body techniques fresh in mind, the subsequent Sword Discussion matches felt dull and lifeless.

Elder Zhang also watched half-heartedly.

In this bland, tedious stretch of time, only Zhang Lan remained rigid as a statue, his heart burning like oil over fire, each second dragging like a year.

After what felt like an eternity, Zhang Lan's nerves were numb, and today's Sword Discussion finally ended.

The surrounding audience began to disperse.

At that moment, Elder Zhang suddenly turned and glanced at Zhang Lan, his gaze deep.

Zhang Lan shuddered, nearly losing his soul to fright.

"Return to the mansion…" Elder Zhang said.

Zhang Lan stared blankly for a long while, then held his breath and nodded, "Yes, Elder Zhang."

His mind was unsettled, his voice unsteady.

Elder Zhang found it odd, but did not suspect—he assumed Zhang Lan, having witnessed the Qianxue Sword Discussion and seen so many top prodigies clash, had been emotionally overwhelmed.

Elder Zhang did not blame him; instead, he felt reassured.

Beyond the sky lies higher sky; beyond the person lies greater person.

This saying applies to everyone.

Sometimes, unless you step out and look, you never realize how vast the world is, how many extraordinary talents exist.

Sitting at the bottom of a well, gazing at the moon, clinging to your own limits—there is no future in that.

Cross this mental barrier, acknowledge others' greatness, recognize your own shortcomings, remain humble and calm, neither arrogant nor discouraged, and only then can your Dao path stretch farther.

The Fangtian Painting Shadow dimmed, turned pure white, and the image vanished.

Everyone rose and left the Dao Discussion Mountain in orderly fashion.

Zhang Lan blended into the crowd, walking down the Dao Discussion Mountain.

His legs were stiff, and unease still lingered in his heart.

But since Elder Zhang had not grown suspicious, it was a stroke of luck amid misfortune.

Zhang Lan finally exhaled in relief.

After walking a while longer, he turned back to gaze at the blank Fangtian Painting Shadow, and involuntarily recalled the scene of Mo Hua clashing with Feng's top prodigy—body and water as one, passing beneath ten thousand sword tips without a single blade touching him—his chest filled with awe.

He still found it hard to believe.

That little brat he'd met ten years ago in the remote backlands of Heishan Prefecture, in Great Heishan, had now risen to become one of the brightest stars among thousands of sects in the entire fifth-rank Qianxue Prefecture.

He was now a "child of heaven," capable of turning the tide before the eyes of countless spectators, clashing with the most famed geniuses of every sect without yielding.

Even thousands of cultivators hated him to the bone, yet none could touch him…

"Mo Hua…"

That familiar name had suddenly become utterly alien.

Zhang Lan stood frozen for a long while, as if in a dream.

…

Back at the Feng family, Elder Zhang instructed the Zhang family members:

"I have urgent matters to discuss with Elder Feng. You may all go your separate ways—explore the scenery, make Daoist friends, whatever you like."

"But Foundation Establishment disciples must be accompanied by a Golden Core."

"And this is the fifth-rank Qianxue Prefecture—clans abound, prodigies like clouds—nothing like our Zhang family's Canglan Prefecture."

"You must be cautious in your actions, treat others kindly, and avoid causing trouble."

"You must return before the hour of Hai, or face family discipline."

The disciples bowed their hands: "Yes, Grand Elder."

"Mm." The Grand Elder nodded, brushed his sleeves, and departed.

All the Zhang family disciples sighed with relief.

The atmosphere grew lively.

The Zhang disciples began discussing where to go, who to visit among relatives and old friends; some called out to Zhang Lan.

Zhang Lan was lazy by nature but easygoing and approachable, and enjoyed good standing among his clan.

Moreover, he was a Jin Dan.

After some thought, Zhang Lan joined them.

Leaving the cave dwelling, they wandered through the nearby Xiao Yao City, experiencing the customs and scenery of Qianxue Zhou.

The sights were dazzling, golden streams and jade cascades—truly breathtaking.

The Zhang family youths marveled inwardly.

Only Zhang Lan remained distant in thought, burdened with worries.

As they wandered, one disciple suddenly sighed:

"Qianxue Zhou is wonderful, but I can't come here to study—my parents won't let me."

"Exactly. This trip is only because the Grand Elder took pity on us and brought us here to observe. After we return, when will we ever come again?"

"Qianzhou is too far—perhaps we'll never get here again..."

"What a pity..."

Hearing this, Zhang Lan's heart stirred, and he couldn't help thinking: "Should I find a chance... to see Mo Hua?"

Coming to Qianxue Zhou was sheer coincidence.

After the Sword Discussion, they would return to Kanzhou—then it would be ten thousand miles apart, with no hope of meeting again.

In the future, they would be separated by heaven and earth; where Mo Hua would go, whether they'd meet again—no one knew.

But...

Zhang Lan hesitated.

Mo Hua's Flowing Water Step was taught by him; logically, he should now "avoid suspicion," or else the Grand Elder would notice—and he'd be in deep trouble.

Besides, Mo Hua is busy with the Sword Discussion; he shouldn't be disturbed.

Moreover, Mo Hua is no longer what he was—he's now a celebrated prodigy, and may not even remember who I am...

And I don't even know where to find Mo Hua...

Zhang Lan was weighed down by doubts, uncertain what to do.

Yet even as he hesitated, he recalled the Grand Elder's frequent reflections.

The path of cultivation is long; partings are easy, reunions hard.

In a lifetime, karmic encounters are unpredictable—many have already seen the last face of each other without realizing it.

And right now, this moment might be the only chance he'd ever have to see Mo Hua again.

If he missed it, they would be forever separated, each pursuing their own cultivation until death and the Dao's end.

A boundless sorrow welled up in Zhang Lan's heart.

He thought for a moment, then said to the others: "You go on ahead—I'll visit a fellow cultivator."

The others were startled, but didn't press further; they nodded, calling out, "Brother Lan!" and "Uncle Lan!" and said:

"Hurry back, and stay safe."

Zhang Lan nodded, then took leave of the Zhang family group.

He intended to find Mo Hua, but didn't know where he was; after a moment's thought, he reasoned that since Mo Hua was a disciple of the Grand Void Gate, he would surely return there after the Sword Discussion.

"Grand Void Gate..."

Zhang Lan hired a carriage, asked for directions, and set off for the Grand Void Gate.

Xiao Yao Gate and Grand Void Gate, both among the Eight Great Sects, were not far apart.

Moreover, major sects maintained dedicated express roads, with carriages and horses flowing like dragons, making travel convenient.

About half an hour later, Zhang Lan arrived at Grand Void City, consulted a map, passed through its streets, climbed stone steps, and reached the Grand Void Gate's mountain gate.

But he was stopped at the gate.

The Sword Discussion was underway; Qianxue Zhou was packed with people, cultivators flooding in, a mix of true and false.

With so many people, trouble was bound to arise.

Thus, most Qianxue sects enforced strict gate controls, refusing all outside visitors.

Without a sect token or a letter from an elder, no one could enter the gate.

Zhang Lan was barred outside.

Of course, he wasn't alone—other cultivators seeking relatives or friends, or hoping to witness the sect's grandeur, were also turned away.

Some pleaded with the gate guards, claiming to know certain elders or guest masters—but it was useless.

This was sect law; no explanations allowed.

Zhang Lan stood outside the gate for a long time, then sighed helplessly.

Human fate cannot be forced.

Perhaps this, too, was karmic destiny.

The sky darkened; the sun set behind Luoshan, the evening glow faded.

Zhang Lan's gaze dimmed; he turned and walked slowly back down the long mountain path.

Step by step, he moved farther away from Grand Void Mountain.

……

Meanwhile, within Grand Void Mountain.

Mo Hua had finished a day of sword discussion, and was walking back to the disciples' quarters with Sister Situ and a few others, but as they walked, his heart suddenly skipped a beat.

An inexplicable sense of familiarity welled up in his chest.

Mo Hua stopped in his tracks.

Situ Jian asked, "Little Senior Brother, what's wrong?"

Mo Hua shook his head, stretched out his palm, and calculated briefly with his fingers, then said to Situ and the others:

"You all go back first, I have something to attend to."

Situ Jian and Cheng Mo exchanged glances.

Mo Hua waved his hand, and without waiting for Situ and the others to reply, he headed toward the mountain gate on his own.

When he reached the mountain gate, quite a few cultivators were blocking the entrance, making quite a racket.

Mo Hua stood at the top of the tall steps and looked into the distance, and just happened to see a gradually receding, somewhat forlorn figure.

That figure, dressed all in blue, looked very familiar.

Mo Hua was stunned. At first he could hardly believe it, but then his gaze grew brighter and brighter, a brilliant smile bloomed on his face, and he called out excitedly:

"Uncle Zhang!"

This clear, crisp shout crossed over the tall steps, carried down the mountain, and reached the ears of Zhang Lan, who was descending the mountain.

Zhang Lan froze, slowly turned around, and looked back, only to see Grand Void Mountain vast and boundless, shrouded in clouds and mist, an ethereal air drifting about.

The mountain gate was broad, the mountain platform antique and elegant.

And at the end of the mountain platform, a youth as fair as a painting was beaming and waving at him.

By now it was dusk, the rosy light of sunset hanging low.

But in the youth's eyes, there was a brightness like the stars, and his smile was as clear and dazzling as the morning sun.

Compared to the child in his memory, he seemed to have changed a great deal, yet at the same time, it seemed as if nothing had changed at all.

A warm current flowed from within his heart.

The joy of reunion, like sweet rain after a storm, sprouted in his heart.

Zhang Lan could not help but smile as well, his gaze both carefree and full of feeling:

"Mo Hua, it's been so long…"

(End of chapter)