Chapter 1021: Yellow Springs

The Feng family cave abode.

In the night, Elder Zhang and Elder Feng sat facing each other, drinking, with solemn expressions.

"Brother Zhang, you mean… Yellow Springs?" Elder Feng's brows knit tightly.

The moment the words "Yellow Springs" were spoken, the atmosphere in the room chilled several degrees.

Elder Zhang nodded and said in a low voice, "It seems someone wants to open a 'Yellow Springs' path in Kanzhou…"

Elder Feng frowned. "Who?"

Elder Zhang shook his head. "Even the Old Ancestor and the others couldn't divine it…"

Elder Feng's expression grew even more solemn. After a moment, he asked in a hushed voice, "Does this thing called 'Yellow Springs' truly exist?"

Elder Zhang's face darkened, and he said slowly:

"In the ancient records of Kanzhou from ten thousand years ago, the words 'Yellow Springs' do indeed appear, described as a great catastrophe that would annihilate the state."

"But what exactly is this 'Yellow Springs'?"

"Is it a great demon, a great ghost, a great corpse?"

"Is it some demon's lair, an ancient Daoist, or a calamity of heaven and earth, a karmic disaster… No one knows at all."

"How exactly one opens the Yellow Springs path, and what it truly means, I'm still completely in the dark."

Elder Feng said, "Since nothing is known… Brother Zhang, how did you come to learn that Kanzhou shows omens of the 'Yellow Springs' path being opened?"

Elder Zhang said in a chilling voice, "Our ancestors sent a dream. In the dream there was an ill omen: the Canglan state was destroyed, and the ghastly waters of Yellow Springs flowed along the underground rivers through all of Kanzhou, twisting every living being."

"All of Kanzhou fell into an underworld of Yellow Springs where yin and yang were undivided, and the living and the dead could not be told apart…"

Just imagining that scene made Elder Feng shudder.

Elder Zhang sighed and said, "The calamity of Yellow Springs is recorded in the ancient chronicles of every state."

"The cultivation world is divided into nine states. Daozhou sits at the center, and the remaining eight states, following the principle of the Eight Trigrams, guard the center."

"My Zhang family resides in Kanzhou. Kan represents water."

"Yellow Springs is also the water of the Nine Underworlds."

"If we follow the principle of the Eight Trigrams, the calamity of Yellow Springs must begin in Kanzhou. This is the source of the Nine Underworlds, the place where Yellow Springs first springs forth."

"If the calamity of Yellow Springs arises in Kanzhou, my Zhang family will bear the brunt. Our clan's generations of foundation are here; we dare not spare any effort…"

Elder Feng pondered for a moment, his gaze worried, yet at the same time showing confusion:

"Brother Zhang, there is something I don't understand."

"Please speak, Brother Feng," Elder Zhang said.

Elder Feng said, "You and I observe this Qianxue state — its crowds of people, a scene of prosperity — and we can see that the world enjoys Zhao Chengping, the nine states flourish, all thriving…"

"But…" Elder Feng frowned, "as Brother Zhang says, Kanzhou has the calamity of Yellow Springs, Lizhou has the chaos of the Southern Wastes, and elsewhere there are also occasional…"

Elder Feng did not dare to mention those two words. After a moment's hesitation, he plucked up his courage and said in a lowered voice:

"Dao Calamities running rampant…"

"Therefore, is this world truly at peace, truly prosperous, or is it filled with injustice and disaster?"

Elder Feng's voice carried deep bewilderment.

Elder Zhang was silent. After a moment, he raised his eyes and looked deeply at Elder Feng. "Brother Feng, do you truly not know?"

Elder Feng's gaze flickered, but he still shook his head.

Elder Zhang spoke slowly, word by word:

"The aristocratic clans are prosperous. You are an elder of an aristocratic clan, so you feel the cultivation world is prosperous."

"But the prosperity of the aristocratic clans comes at a price."

"Whoever bears that price is the one suffering the injustice and disaster…"

Elder Zhang's gaze was deep, his tone laden with meaning.

Some enjoy prosperity; some bear the price. That is why the cultivation world is rife with chaos, and why his Kanzhou shows omens of Yellow Springs springing forth.

Elder Feng seemed thoughtful, but clearly did not quite understand.

Elder Zhang had no intention of dwelling further on this matter. What he was concerned with at present was still the matter of Kanzhou.

Elder Zhang sighed and said sincerely:

"I won't hide it from you, Brother Feng. The reason I personally came to Qianxue state this time is threefold. First, to attend the sword discussion ceremony, so that the disciples of our clan may witness the bearing of Qianxue's prodigies, understand that there are always greater talents beyond oneself, and not lose the heart of seeking the Dao and pressing forward…"

"Second, to visit old acquaintances;"

"Third, it is precisely for this calamity of Yellow Springs."

Elder Zhang looked solemnly at Elder Feng. "Qianxue state is a fifth-rank great state. Its aristocratic clans and sects have long lineages, and within their Dao repositories there must surely be many ancient books and old records."

"If there is a chance, I would like to go and consult them."

"Some seniors within Qianxue state, as well as learned fellow cultivators — if there is a chance, I would also trouble Brother Feng to introduce them."

"I wish to use this to trace the origin of the words 'Yellow Springs'…"

"The calamity of Yellow Springs is vague and elusive. If there is no such thing, that would naturally be for the best."

"But if it truly exists, it will surely be a great catastrophe. My Zhang family has lived in Kanzhou for generations; we have an inescapable duty and must seek a method of suppression, to resolve the calamity of one state, one realm."

Liu Yuhua realm cultivator Elder Zhang rose and bowed to Elder Feng, saying solemnly, "I ask Brother Feng to grant my request."

Elder Feng hurriedly rose and stepped aside, saying quickly, "Brother Zhang, there's no need for such formality. This little brother truly does not deserve it."

He thought carefully and said honestly, "To tell the truth, for a great matter like Yellow Springs, my meager cultivation and connections truly cannot help Brother Zhang."

"But if it's merely looking through ancient books and old records, and introducing some seniors and fellow cultivators, then this little brother would consider it a duty I cannot refuse."

Elder Zhang felt relieved in his heart and cupped his fists in salute. "Many thanks!"

The two took advantage of the night to discuss specific matters for a while longer, until the hour grew late, and only then did they rise and take their leave of each other.

Elder Zhang returned to the Zhang family's guest quarters and, as was customary, first took roll.

It was already the hour of Hai; most clan members and disciples had returned on time, but one was missing.

Elder Zhang's gaze darkened. "Where is Zhang Lan?"

The Zhang clan members exchanged uneasy glances, none daring to speak.

It wasn't that they wished to conceal it—they simply had no skill to hide anything before Elder Zhang; their petty schemes were nothing, and one word out of their mouths would be instantly exposed.

Better to speak the truth.

If they hid it, everyone would suffer.

As the disciples fretted inwardly, a green-robed cultivator hurried in through the door, bowing with clasped hands. "Elder Zhang."

Elder Zhang glanced at him. "Where were you?"

Zhang Lan lowered his hands. "I visited a… fellow cultivator…"

Elder Zhang, burdened with worries, didn't press further; he waved his hand. "Fine. Next time, return earlier—don't invite trouble."

"Yes." Zhang Lan exhaled in relief.

Afterwards, everyone dispersed, returning to their rooms to rest.

Elder Zhang returned to his chamber, sat in meditation to rest, but could not calm his mind; he rose, sat at the table, lit a candle, and flipped through ancient texts and fragmented jade slips, seeking an answer.

Yet the calamity of the "Yellow Spring" was hard to verify; its records were buried in ancient texts, regarded as strange tales, rarely seen.

Elder Zhang flipped through them again and again, still finding little—no trace of its origin, no method to suppress it; he sighed in frustration, murmuring to himself:

"May Liezulie Sect protect us—may this journey to Qianxue yield clues to suppress the 'Yellow Spring' and lift the calamity from Kanzhou…"

But he knew the hope was vanishingly slim.

Elder Zhang shook his head and continued reading, pondering. The more he thought, the more his spirit drained, his thoughts grew chaotic.

Just then, scenes from the sword-discussion assembly that day surfaced in his mind, for no reason.

On the Fangtian painting, that figure moved like a startled swan, coiled like a roaming dragon—calm and fluid amid Feng's heavenly prodigy's dense, impenetrable blade-light, not a single edge touching his body…

He remembered the name clearly:

Mo Hua.

Elder Zhang paused, momentarily not delving deeper, only feeling awe:

"No wonder he's a Qianxue prodigy—a mere boy, peerless in bearing, his movement surpassing even the Feng family's heavenly talent of Xiaoyao Gate; truly inconceivable…"

Especially his movement.

Elder Zhang was Liu Yuhua; his family had long passed down movement techniques.

He understood better than anyone the extraordinary subtlety of Mo Hua's water-style movement, the exquisite flow of each motion.

Such refined movement could never be forged without countless trials, immense toil, and boundless devotion.

High talent, high insight, willingness to endure hardship, movement of supreme elegance.

"If only this extraordinary boy were a disciple of our Zhang family…"

Even Elder Zhang felt a pang of admiration, envy burning in his heart.

Yet after a moment of envy, he suddenly froze.

The words of Elder Feng from that day surfaced again in his mind.

Now, deep in the quiet night, Elder Zhang's thoughts had cooled; he replayed Mo Hua's movement, again and again, in his mind.

Every gesture, he examined closely.

Every step, every halt, he pondered slowly.

Nothing is more dangerous than taking things seriously.

More dangerous still is deep analysis.

Elder Zhang turned it over and over, pondering it dozens of times—until finally, he drew in a sharp breath:

"This boy's movement… really does resemble… our Zhang family's Shi Shui Bu?"

But his technique was too refined.

More refined than any Zhang clan disciple's.

Even many maneuvers, controlled by powerful spiritual sense, were exquisitely precise—impossible for ordinary cultivators to execute.

Moreover, he had fused in fragments of other, obscure movement techniques.

Added to that, misty water vapor obscured the details; at first glance, it was nearly impossible to identify.

But now, Elder Zhang had dissected, crushed, and replayed the movement image repeatedly—and finally, he detected unmistakable traces of orthodox Shi Shui Bu.

"But… this is impossible…"

"He's a Tianxu Gate prodigy, utterly unrelated to us—how could he have learned our family's secret technique, Shi Shui Bu, never taught outside?"

Elder Zhang frowned, baffled.

"It makes no sense…"

"Could it be… that one of our own Zhang clan has truly become a traitor, violating ancestral edicts?"

Elder Zhang's gaze grew dangerously sharp.

…

Next door.

The latest novel is first published here!

Zhang Lan, who had been lounging lazily, suddenly felt a chill surge through him—his heart pounded, his flesh trembled, and he nearly leapt up.

"Danger?"

Zhang Lan's face paled; seeing the quiet night, the serene moonlight outside the window, no anomaly—only then did he relax slightly, pondering the cause.

"That boy, Mo Hua… is dangerous."

"He's already drawing hatred."

"Probably because I came into contact with Mo Hua during the day, so when he was hated by people, it dragged me in too…"

Zhang Lan nodded, felt it made some sense, then lazily lay back down.

Only this time, he was a little unable to sleep peacefully.

……

Grand Void Gate.

Old Mr. Xun was similarly unable to sleep that night.

The Sword Trial Grand Competition of Qianxue State — the Old Ancestor generally wouldn't appear in person, but that didn't mean he didn't need to toil behind the scenes.

Since the Sword Trial Grand Competition began, undercurrents had been stirring throughout Qianxue State, and matters were myriad and complex; this sect's Old Ancestor hadn't truly rested in a long while either.

And right now, what troubled him most was still the matter of Mo Hua.

The development of events had somewhat exceeded his expectations.

He hadn't expected that this child, Mo Hua, clearly had such a "handsome" face, yet was so capable of drawing people's hatred.

Using only basic, low-tier Five Elements spells, he could make a group of sect's prideful disciples hate him enough to gnash their teeth.

So many editions of the Sword Trial Grand Competition had been held, with so many prideful sword-discussants, yet Mo Hua could be considered an unprecedented one-of-a-kind.

This point, Old Mr. Xun truly hadn't anticipated.

Moreover, the situation was now gradually beginning to slip somewhat out of control.

Old Mr. Xun frowned, and after a long while, couldn't help sighing:

"Perhaps… this is fate?"

Back then, that lad surnamed "Zhuang" was dazzlingly brilliant, looking down on the world, provoking the jealousy and hatred of a host of prodigies, ending up with enemies on all sides.

He wondered if there was a lineage inheritance at play here…

This child, Mo Hua, was perfectly fine at the start, but as he walked on, he seemed to have gone astray.

Like "repeating the same mistake," he had strayed onto the very same path as his master.

Hated by people just like his master.

Of course, there were still differences between the two.

Zhuang Daoling was hated because his talent was peerless and he looked down on everyone.

Mo Hua was hated because he was sly and eccentric, and extremely infuriating.

The current Mo Hua was somewhat like… another style of "Zhuang Daoling."

Old Mr. Xun was utterly helpless.

He had pondered this matter for a long time, and truly had not a single solution; in the end, he could only heave a sigh.

"Enough — 'the whole world as an enemy' is perhaps also the path that this master and disciple lineage is destined to walk…"

"Some fates, in the unseen workings of heaven, cannot be escaped…"

Fortunately, Mo Hua right now was not truly "the whole world as an enemy."

Those who hated him were not few.

But those who liked him, who cared about him, were likewise not few.

Although the path he walked resembled another "Zhuang Daoling," after all, he was not the real Zhuang Daoling.

He was…

"Mo Hua."

Old Mr. Xun murmured softly, recalled Mo Hua's sincere face and childlike Dao heart, and gradually set his mind at ease.

……

The next day, the Sword Trial continued.

The progress of the Sword Trial Grand Competition was also advancing bit by bit.

More and more cultivators began to pay attention to Mo Hua.

Some cared about Mo Hua.

Some hated Mo Hua.

Most were simply so infuriated by Mo Hua that they wanted to see him suffer misfortune, so they could gloat and pile on.

Elder Zhang, while seeking friends and discussing the Dao, exploring the origins of the Yellow Springs, also began to keep an eye on Mo Hua.

Almost every one of Mo Hua's sword trials, he would watch.

He wanted to see whether the body technique Mo Hua used was truly his Zhang family's Passing Water Steps.

Zhang Lan naturally also wanted to watch Mo Hua's sword trials.

This way, he could be considered to have "reached the same conclusion by different paths" with Elder Zhang.

Of course, Zhang Lan was still uneasy in his heart.

The Grand Elder's eye was very sharp.

Some things, without any clues, he naturally couldn't guess.

But if there was even the slightest clue, and the Grand Elder seized on a "handle," then peeled back layer by layer, and figured something out…

Then it would definitely be finished.

Therefore, to avoid arousing the Grand Elder's suspicion, Zhang Lan only dared to behave himself properly, sit among the crowd, and silently watch Mo Hua's sword trials.

He didn't dare make a sound, didn't dare discuss, and certainly didn't dare reveal even the slightest hint that he knew Mo Hua.

He was merely a traveler from out of town, passing through, an unknown onlooker.

As for Mo Hua?

Truly didn't know him.

……

On Lundao Mountain, the atmosphere among the spectators grew increasingly tense.

Resentment was building, and more and more prodigies were "whetting their blades" against Mo Hua, eager to cut him down.

But the Tian Xuanzi sword tournament had already entered its final stage.

Most of the matches had already been fought.

The situation was largely settled.

They had little chance left to target Mo Hua.

Moreover, Mo Hua's later opponents were not particularly strong.

After a few exchanges, Mo Hua won them all, and won fairly smoothly, without being singled out too much.

The overall situation was clearly somewhat grim, yet there was also a strange calm, like the stillness before a storm.

In this somewhat peculiar atmosphere, the Tian Xuanzi sword tournament drew to a close without incident.

Grand Void Gate unexpectedly held onto third place.

This third place was not only thanks to Mo Hua and Linghu Xiao's group remaining undefeated.

The disciples of the other sects had also put in a great deal of effort.

In fact, within Grand Void Gate, a batch of disciples who had originally been unremarkable underwent a "metamorphosis" after being tempered by the sword tournament.

And some of these disciples even successfully advanced to the "Di" (Earth) tournament.

Mo Hua found it astonishing.

The sect elders and higher-ups were even more pleasantly surprised.

With the Tian Xuanzi sword tournament concluded, after a brief rest and adjustment, the "Di" (Earth) tournament officially began.

The prodigies of the Si Sect began to make their moves.

The true formidable opponents finally officially revealed their "loftiness and grandeur"…

(End of chapter)