Chapter 1020: Reunion

The peaks of Tai Xu Mountain, wreathed in dense rosy light and swirling mist.

Mo Hua was strolling with Zhang Lan through the mountains, telling him about Tai Xu Gate's history, ancient Daoist ruins, time-worn pavilions, and breathtaking landscapes.

Zhang Lan felt a deep shock.

What shocked him was not entirely Tai Xu Gate's long history, profound heritage, the elegant bearing of its disciples, or its magnificent scenery and wonders…

Those were astonishing, too—but what truly stunned him was that he had actually, truly, entered the gates of Tai Xu Gate?

It was the Sword Debate Assembly; outside the gate, countless cultivators had gathered.

Those cultivators, some of high cultivation, some of illustrious origins, some with noble bearing, were all barred from entering.

Zhang Lan had been one of them too.

The sect rules were strict; the elder guarding the mountain and the inner-disciples were impartial, allowing not the slightest argument.

But when Mo Hua arrived at the gate, he merely smiled and called out a few times, "Elder," "Senior Brother," saying, "This is an uncle of mine, a very close one."

The guards said nothing and let them pass.

The guards at the gate bowed to Zhang Lan.

Even the elder guarding the mountain nodded in greeting to Zhang Lan.

Inside Tai Xu Gate, it was even more absurd.

Every disciple along the way, upon seeing Mo Hua, nearly all called out, "Senior Brother," or "Little Senior Brother."

Every elder along the way greeted Mo Hua warmly with a nod.

Some elders even greeted Mo Hua first, and only then did Mo Hua smile in return.

Zhang Lan almost thought he was dreaming.

Had he not known Mo Hua's background, he would have almost believed Tai Xu Gate was owned by the Mo family.

In a powerful fifth-rank sect, only a Xiaozu could enjoy such treatment—or at the very least, a junior sect master.

Zhang Lan silently glanced at Mo Hua.

He had long known Mo Hua had good connections, was skilled at networking, and could always "fit in" wherever he went.

But to "fit in" this thoroughly still stretched the limits of his imagination.

As they walked, Mo Hua suddenly remembered something and asked, "Uncle Zhang, you haven't eaten yet, have you?"

Zhang Lan nodded.

Mo Hua was generous: "I'll treat you!"

The place in Tai Xu Gate where disciples ate was the dining hall in the disciple quarters.

But the disciple quarters were strictly for disciples only—truly off-limits to "outsiders."

Even Mo Hua didn't have that much authority.

His greatest privilege was bringing the sect master's white dog into the dining hall to beg for food.

But that was the sect master's dog.

For Uncle Zhang, he couldn't make an exception.

So Mo Hua went to the dining hall, bought some wine and meat, brought them out, and led Zhang Lan to a quiet, scenic peak on the right side of Tai Xu Gate.

He found a large stone, laid out fine wine and meat on a cloth mat.

The two sat on the ground, facing the vast evening clouds and sunset mountains, enjoying meat and wine, chatting and catching up.

In this moment, Zhang Lan felt a dreamlike daze—as if he were still in Tong Xian City, in Mo Hua's tavern, carefree, skipping work, drinking and eating meat with Mo Hua, listening to demon hunters recount mountain tales, waiting for the sun to set and the rosy light to stain the tavern's gate.

But in an instant, the scene before him was Tai Xu Gate again.

The one drinking and eating meat with him was Tai Xu Gate's Sword Debate prodigy, the Array Art champion—a slender, extraordinary young boy.

Ten years apart, it felt like yesterday; Mo Hua's appearance had changed, but his gestures and demeanor remained sincere, natural—as if nothing had changed.

Cultivators, their original intent unaltered, their childlike hearts unchanged.

Zhang Lan sighed inwardly.

Influenced by Mo Hua's aura, he himself felt far more relaxed and at ease.

Mo Hua was no longer the Mo Hua of before, yet somehow, he still was.

Mo Hua also glanced at Zhang Lan.

He noticed that his lazy Uncle Zhang seemed much more "serious" now—no longer idle and aimless as in Tong Xian City, grown up considerably…

Mo Hua nodded with quiet satisfaction.

But at the same time, he was slightly surprised:

"Uncle Zhang, you've formed a Golden Core?"

Zhang Lan nodded. "Yeah, lucky."

Mo Hua frowned, deeply confused.

He remembered clearly: when he was in Tong Xian City, Uncle Zhang was still at Qi Condensation.

Later, when fighting the great demon, Uncle Zhang had been forced to break through to Foundation Establishment.

But now, after so many years apart, he'd already formed a Golden Core?

That was just absurd.

Mo Hua couldn't help asking: "Uncle Zhang, is your cultivation level… a bit off?"

Zhang Lan was slightly irritated. "What's wrong with my cultivation level?"

Seeing Mo Hua still didn't believe him, he sighed and explained:

"Didn't I tell you before? I have excellent talent. Back then, I resisted my family's arranged marriage, so I stalled at Qi Condensation, took a post as Gu Diansi in some remote place just for peace."

"After I broke through to Foundation Establishment, I had to return to my clan."

"Once back, my father arranged another marriage for me. I refused. He's old-fashioned—he said unless I formed a Golden Core and gained independence, the marriage was non-negotiable."

"I could only go into closed-door cultivation, training hard day after day, breaking through one realm after another, all the way to the peak of Foundation Establishment, and then form a Golden Core. I was lucky too — I succeeded on my first try…"

Mo Hua was utterly stunned.

Uncle Zhang, just to dodge a marriage, was willing to remain at Qi Refining in his thirties.

And then, still to dodge that marriage, he managed to form a Golden Core in his forties?!

For a moment, Mo Hua regarded Zhang Lan as nothing short of a divine being.

He couldn't help asking, "Uncle Zhang, what if your father made you cultivate all the way to Liu Yuhua, or else you'd have to go through with the marriage? Wouldn't that mean you could ascend to Liu Yuhua on the spot?"

Zhang Lan was momentarily choked with anger and couldn't help glaring at Mo Hua:

"You brat, there you go talking nonsense again. Do you think Liu Yuhua is that simple a matter?"

"My father is my father — he's stubborn, sure, but he's not actually devoid of common sense. How could he possibly force me to ascend to Liu Yuhua?"

"He himself cultivated for an entire lifetime, enduring bitter torment for several hundred years, and only then, by a stroke of luck and a flash of spiritual insight, barely managed to reach Liu Yuhua."

"Once you reach Liu Yuhua, you're a True Person."

"He knows the difficulty of the Liu Yuhua realm better than anyone — how could he possibly really force me…"

At this point, Zhang Lan paused slightly, both relieved and a little wistful:

"Actually, forget Liu Yuhua — even forming a Jin Dan is extremely difficult. To a large extent, it all depends on whether the Heavenly Dao favors you."

"Once your luck turns bad, no matter how you try to form a Golden Core, you'll fail. Many people get stuck right here, stuck for an entire lifetime."

"That was me before — I worried the Jin Dan would be too hard, that once I couldn't break through, I'd be at the mercy of others, so I just lay flat at the Qi Refining realm."

"If Xiancheng hadn't been in trouble, I wouldn't have broken through to Foundation Establishment so easily."

"But fortunately, every cup has its match — it's all fated by Heaven. I suppose I turned misfortune into a blessing, forced myself, and pushed myself all the way to Jin Dan…"

Zhang Lan rested his head on his arm, propped up his leg, lay on the boulder, and visibly began to look "lazily listless" again, his tone languid:

"Forming a Golden Core at thirty makes you an older cultivator."

"Forming a Jin Dan at forty makes you a proper young prodigy — and you've got plenty of time to spare."

"I can finally live a more leisurely life for a while…"

Mo Hua mimicked Zhang Lan, resting his head on his arm, propping up his leg, lying there languidly, and said enviously:

"How nice… I still don't know when I'll be able to form a Jin Dan…"

Zhang Lan didn't think much of it. "You're a prodigy of the Grand Void Gate now, backed by a sect, lacking neither inheritance nor senior guidance, with so many elders looking after you — do you still need to worry about forming a Jin Dan?"

Mo Hua sighed, "That has nothing to do with inheritance, Uncle Zhang. You said it yourself — forming a Jin Dan depends on personal fortune."

"Whether your luck is good or bad all depends on whether the Heavenly Dao looks after you. If the Heavenly Dao doesn't favor me, then it'll be very hard to manage…"

Zhang Lan nodded, "That is true…"

His own luck was good, but that didn't mean Mo Hua's luck would be good too.

He did hope Mo Hua's luck would be good as well.

But such things were in the Heavenly Dao's hands, and the Heavenly Dao wasn't about to listen to him.

Zhang Lan thought it over carefully, then sighed helplessly, "There's nothing I can do to help you with this…"

"If it were before, I could still get some cultivation insights from the Zhang family and bring them over for you to reference…"

"But now, you're already a disciple of the Grand Void Gate. The Grand Void Gate has deep foundations and a long lineage — you probably don't need those bits of inheritance from my Zhang family…"

At this point, Zhang Lan suddenly felt a jolt in his heart, sat up straight at once, and lost every trace of his leisurely mood.

He'd almost forgotten!

Flowing Water Steps!

That was the real important matter!

Mo Hua found his sudden startle a little strange.

Zhang Lan's face turned solemn as he went over their "story" with Mo Hua: "Mo Hua, do you still remember how you got your Flowing Water Steps?"

Mo Hua nodded, "A kind uncle passing by left them for me."

"Whatever you do, don't say it wrong. If you say it wrong, I might die." Zhang Lan's face was taut.

Mo Hua was puzzled, "Is it really that serious?"

Zhang Lan nodded, "Originally it wasn't, but now it is — very serious!"

Originally, he had just been serving as Gu Diansi in a remote little Xiancheng, and by chance had taught an ordinary little rogue cultivator a tiny bit of his Zhang family's ultimate movement art.

But now the meaning was different — he had "betrayed" his Zhang family's ultimate movement art to the top prodigy of this generation of the Grand Void Gate.

And it was right under everyone's eyes, witnessed by the Grand Elder.

That was a death sentence.

And during the day, Zhang Lan had heard the conversation between Elder Feng and the Grand Elder from start to finish.

At the time, the Grand Elder, in front of Elder Feng, had praised and elevated the Feng family's prodigy, lauding how his Wind-Treading Steps and Wind-Wandering Steps were utterly unique.

And then, right before everyone's eyes, the Carefree Gate's Wind-Treading Steps and the Feng family's Wind-Wandering Steps were outshone by Mo Hua.

And what Mo Hua had learned was his Zhang family's Flowing Water Steps.

If Elder Feng didn't know about this, it would be fine.

If he found out, he would surely think the Grand Elder was being "passive-aggressive" toward him.

On the surface, praising how outstanding the Feng family's prodigy was, how extraordinary his movement art was — and then, in the next breath, letting his Zhang family's ultimate movement art be passed on to a Grand Void Gate disciple who outshone the Feng family's prodigy.

Elder Feng would be furious.

Even if he didn't say anything openly, he would surely hold a grudge in his heart.

And by extension, there might be a rift between the Zhang family and the Feng family.

Therefore, the secret of the Flowing Water Steps absolutely could not be revealed.

It wasn't that he, Zhang Lan, didn't want to eat chaff, choke on vegetables, and kneel in the ancestral hall.

But truly, it was for the two-hundred-year friendship between the Grand Elder and Wind Elder, and the generations of goodwill between the Zhang and Wind families.

Zhang Lan's expression was as steadfast as the stones of Tai Xu Mountain:

"Whatever you do, don't tell anyone!"

Mo Hua felt the heavy weight of karmic consequence in this, and nodded seriously: "Don't worry—I'll die before I say a word."

"Good!"

Seeing Mo Hua's resolute gaze, Zhang Lan finally relaxed, slipping back into his "laid-back" mode, sipping wine as he gazed at the mountain scenery.

Afterward, the two chatted about old memories of Xiancheng.

Zhang Lan also asked about Mo Hua's recent situation.

He learned that aside from daily cultivation, practicing Dao arts, and drawing arrays, Mo Hua was busy but otherwise fine…

The sect was fine, fellow disciples were friendly, elders were kind, and the Sect Master and Ancestor were both gentle.

Zhang Lan was now completely at ease. Of course, he also took the chance to ask other questions he truly cared about, such as:

"Is your spiritual sense really at the peak of nineteen patterns?"

"Did you really, while in Foundation Establishment mid-stage, overpower the Sida Sect and win the Array Art championship?"

"Are you really the personal grandson of the Tai Xu Ancestor?"

"Are you the Sect Master's illegitimate son?"

"I heard you used Fireball Technique to blow up the Purple Cloud Sect's number-one beauty's head?"

…

Mo Hua answered most of these questions truthfully.

For instance, he really was the Array Art champion.

He truly won first place in the Array Debate through pure strength, overpowering the Sida Sect—no favoritism, no backroom deals.

Also, he was not the Tai Xu Sect Master's illegitimate son.

He was not the Tai Xu Ancestor's personal grandson.

Besides, it wasn't intentional—he didn't deliberately use Fireball Technique to blow up the Purple Cloud Sect's number-one beauty's head.

He was focused on the Sword Debate, utterly absorbed—he genuinely didn't recognize her.

He wasn't trying to attract the immortal's attention with his coldness…

Of course, Mo Hua did tell a few small lies.

For instance, his spiritual sense was no longer at the peak of nineteen patterns—it had clearly reached the twenty-pattern Jin Dan-level spiritual perception.

But such a thing was too shocking. Moreover, the Ancestor had repeatedly warned him, so Mo Hua couldn't reveal it.

…

The two talked like old acquaintances, like close friends, until the sun set behind Luoshan, the evening glow faded, night descended, and lanterns lit up across Tai Xu Mountain—ethereal and bright, like a celestial paradise.

Zhang Lan rose to take his leave.

Mo Hua tried to persuade him to stay.

Zhang Lan shook his head: "If I return late, the Grand Elder will scold me. Besides, you must focus on the Sword Debate—you can't be disturbed."

Mo Hua hesitated a moment, then nodded.

Uncle Zhang spoke the truth.

The Sword Debate was indeed busy.

Especially given his special status—his full arsenal, once exposed to public view, would draw targeted attacks. Every debate required vast time to strategize, plan, and prepare in advance.

Only then could he win one after another.

"Then, Uncle Zhang, will you stay in Qian Xue Province for a while?"

"Mm," Zhang Lan nodded, "Until the Sword Debate ends."

Mo Hua smiled: "Then good—I'll treat you to wine and meat after the debate ends."

Zhang Lan smiled too, nodding: "Alright."

The night grew deeper. Zhang Lan departed, and Mo Hua saw him all the way to the Tai Xu Mountain gate.

Just before leaving, Zhang Lan suddenly remembered something and said: "Mo Hua, you… be careful…"

Mo Hua froze, puzzled. "Be careful of what?"

Zhang Lan hesitated a moment, then asked: "Do you… tend to use low-tier techniques in the Sword Debate?"

Mo Hua nodded, utterly matter-of-fact: "I only know low-tier techniques—I can only use low-tier techniques."

"Then you use Fireball Technique to finish them off…"

"Saves time and effort—fast and convenient."

"What about your Concealment Technique…"

"They're trying to kill me—I have to use Concealment Technique to escape, or I'll be dead."

"What about using Concealment Technique to play hide-and-seek…"

"To buy time—so when Xiao Xiao and the others are free, they can slaughter everyone, and we win…"

Zhang Lan froze.

Mo Hua's reasoning was sound—but he had no idea how much psychological trauma his "obvious" actions inflicted on the debate disciples.

How many spectators had been driven to rage, even to the point of spitting blood.

The spectator stands were filled with cries condemning "the deeply sinful" Mo Hua.

But Zhang Lan didn't know what to say.

After a moment, he sighed inwardly:

Never mind—those who aren't envied are mediocrities.

If one wishes to achieve something on the path of cultivation, if one wishes to receive the praise of others, then one must inevitably endure the slander of others.

One who accomplishes great things cannot possibly avoid jealousy and hatred, and cannot possibly avoid slander even more so.

"I will always be down in the audience, watching you display your divine might in the Sword Debate!" Zhang Lan's expression was gentle as he looked at Mo Hua and offered encouragement.

Mo Hua also smiled and said, "Thank you, Uncle Zhang."

Afterwards, beneath the night sky, the two bade each other farewell.

Zhang Lan walked down the mountain.

Mo Hua stayed on the mountain.

The one descending the mountain felt his heart full of grateful emotion and wonder, and of disbelief.

The one staying on the mountain also had warmth and joy drifting through his heart.

On the long road of cultivation, there are always some warm encounters.

In the vast sea of people, there will always be someone quietly caring for you.

Mo Hua watched Zhang Lan growing farther and farther away, a kindly smile on his face, his eyes brilliant and bright.

He waited until Zhang Lan's figure vanished into the distance, then only then turned around and returned to the Grand Void Gate…

Of course, there were people who cared about Mo Hua.

Naturally, there were also people who hated him.

Those who cared about him were not few, but those who hated him were naturally even more.

Within the various sects of the Qianxue State boundary.

A mysterious "organization" was quietly being formed.

A special message-transmitting token was secretly circulating.

This message-transmitting token had a name that reeked of killing and warfare—

"Mo-Slaying Token."

Any disciple who obtained this "Mo-Slaying Token," provided they possessed a certain karmic tie and reached a unanimous covenant, could join this mysterious organization.

And all disciples holding the "Mo-Slaying Token" could, through the token, communicate with the same magnetic-formation base array.

Among the allied disciples, they could exchange messages with one another.

At this moment, one member after another, filled with anger and hatred, joined the alliance anonymously.

Within the Mo-Slaying Token, line after line of magnetic patterns manifested into text…

"A Single Canglang Sword joins the alliance…"

"I and Fireball Spell Are Mortal Enemies joins the alliance…"

"Nameless Nobody joins the alliance…"

"Water Prison Spell Must Die joins the alliance…"

"Zixia's Number One Fairy joins the alliance…"

"Anyone Who Learns Concealment Is a Dog joins the alliance…"

"Youth Like the Wind joins the alliance…"

……

"Big Fool joins the alliance…"

Everyone: ……

This name brought an instant silence within the Mo-Slaying Token.

Someone asked: "Shi Tiangang?"

Big Fool: "Yes."

Everyone: "……"

Water Prison Spell Must Die: "You don't have to be so direct, you could be a little more subtle, at least use an anonymous name…"

Big Fool: "I did use an anonymous name."

Everyone: "……"

Water Prison Spell Must Die: "What I mean is, you could change the way you go anonymous, no need to be so… blunt?"

Big Fool: "No need."

Big Fool: "I will use this name, taking it as my resolve, to spur myself on, to sleep on brushwood and taste gall, never forgetting the blood-deep hatred…"

Big Fool: "Until Mo Hua is slain, I swear I will not rest!"

Nameless Nobody: "Good! I admire you!"

Youth Like the Wind: "Count me in."

A Single Canglang Sword: "I can contribute strength."

Zixia's Number One Fairy: "If you're short on spirit stones, tell me."

I and Fireball Spell Are Mortal Enemies: "Swear to kill Mo Hua!"

……

For a moment, emotions ran high, everyone was spamming:

"Mo Hua must die!"

"Swear to kill Mo Hua!"

"I and Mo Hua are mortal enemies!"

"Without killing Mo Hua at least once, this life is lived in vain!"

"Without killing Mo Hua at least once, I shall never marry in this lifetime!"

……

After a while, the magnetic currents suddenly fluctuated, and the ink patterns failed.

For a moment, no one could speak.

A completely anonymous person, whose name was a blob of pitch-black magnetic ink, sent a message to everyone in bold magnetic ink, the wording solemn:

"The Tumo Alliance is hereby founded today.

Alliance covenant: Mo Hua must die!

Purpose: Sworn to kill Mo Hua!

Token of faith: Tumo Order.

Condition for joining the Ru Alliance: Sharing an irreconcilable enmity with Mo Hua!

Current mission:

At the Sword Discourse Assembly, before the eyes of all, kill Mo Hua once.

No restriction on identity, no restriction on cultivation, any means whatsoever — just kill him once!

Whoever slays Mo Hua with their own hand may be elected as this Alliance's 'Alliance Master,' to be revered by ten thousand people.

Their deeds shall be engraved upon the hearts of all, everlasting and imperishable!"

……

For a moment, in the hearts of every holder of a 'Tumo Order,' a great blaze of Xiong Xiongliehuo flared up.

(End of this chapter)