Chapter 134: An Encounter

Old Zhao was badly injured, his breath faint.

They rescued him, fed him pills to stabilize his heart meridian, then carried him down the mountain and knocked on the door of Xinglin Hall through the night.

Mr. Feng intervened and saved his life.

But his life was saved—he still had not awakened.

According to Mr. Feng, he had been targeted with lethal intent, chased for a long distance, his spiritual energy exhausted, and he had lost too much blood, hence his coma and inability to awaken.

He needs slow recuperation; once his qi and blood are nourished, he will awaken.

Fortunately, he was discovered early; if they had waited any longer, even Mr. Feng could not have saved him.

Upon hearing that Mo Hua had found him and rescued him, Mr. Feng paused, then smiled warmly, patting Mo Hua's head and saying:

"You child, you have great fortune."

Mo Hua felt a little embarrassed.

Old Zhao's wife, overcome with grief, had fainted several times; upon hearing her husband was unconscious but alive, her taut nerves finally relaxed.

She came to thank Mo Hua in her spare time, bringing several robes she had sewn herself, with two lines of small embroidery on the collars:

"Safe and sound, long and lasting."

It was the most heartfelt blessing.

Liu Ruhua sat with her inside, whispering words of comfort; by the time she took her leave, her expression had improved considerably.

Yet Mo Hua still had one matter weighing on him.

Mr. Feng said Old Zhao had been targeted with lethal intent—not hunted by beast-creatures.

Who in Xiancheng would kill a late-stage Foundation Establishment hunter?

Mo Hua could not understand.

Elder Yu had already sent people to investigate; there should be some leads. Even if they found nothing, once Old Zhao awoke, the truth would likely emerge.

But these matters were for Elder Yu and the others to worry about—they had nothing to do with Mo Hua.

He had done what needed doing.

He only hoped Old Zhao would awaken soon, and their family could be whole again.

In the following days, Mo Hua devoted more effort to his cultivation.

Each day, he added an extra hour to sit and meditate, refining spirit stones.

For cultivators, cultivation relies more on persistence; daily practice without interruption, accumulated over time, naturally leads to success.

You need not cultivate too long each day—just one hour daily is enough.

The extra hour Mo Hua added was not very efficient, and the spiritual energy he refined was minimal. But since he was just one step away from Foundation Establishment Level Six, Mo Hua wanted to push harder and cross the threshold sooner.

After several days, he indeed felt the threshold of Foundation Establishment Level Six.

Mo Hua took it seriously: he burned incense, bathed, prepared spirit stones, and focused his mind carefully, waiting for breakthrough.

Then he failed.

He did not cross that threshold…

Mo Hua's face darkened; he slung his storage bag and returned to Great Heishan.

This damn business of cultivation breakthroughs—let fate decide; he was too lazy to care.

He'd rather stockpile more beast blood for his array practice.

After entering Great Heishan, Mo Hua noticed fewer hunters in the mountains.

In the past, he'd meet many familiar faces within half a day; now, after wandering all day, he saw only one or two.

Mo Hua encountered a hunter team he didn't know well, borrowed their beast blood, treated them to beef, and asked around to learn the reason.

Old Zhao had been hunted; Elder Yu had concerns, sent people to investigate, and ordered everyone to avoid Great Heishan for a few days—hence the reduced number of hunters.

Mo Hua frowned; fewer people meant more beast-creatures.

That made staying in the mountains dangerous.

If beast-creatures chased him, he'd have no one to help.

"Should I go back down now?"

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then shook his head; his spiritual sense was already strong, not weaker than that of most late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators—he could detect beast-creatures from afar and avoid being chased.

But he should still remain discreet.

Mo Hua smeared plant juice on his clothes, stuck a few branches in his hair, and dirtied his face.

This way, beast-creatures couldn't smell his scent, and from a distance, with the grass and branches, they couldn't make out his shape.

As for his dirty clothes—his mother would wash them when he returned.

Mo Hua relaxed, then continued his original plan: "patrolling the mountain."

Mo Hua held his compass, wandering until noon; when hungry, he lay in the grass and ate the beef his mother had made.

As he ate, Mo Hua suddenly sensed movement; he lifted his head and peered through the grass to see several cultivators approaching from afar.

Their attire did not resemble that of hunters.

Mo Hua's expression sharpened; he lay flat and quietly released his spiritual sense.

His spiritual sense detected three people: two men and one woman, all late-stage Foundation Establishment, their spiritual energy subtly concealed, hard to probe, and seemingly arguing about something.

Mo Hua strained his ears, listening curiously.

"... We've searched for days, found nothing..." a man said intermittently.

"Be patient... that man is extremely cunning..."

"... Despicable... if I find him, I'll tear him into a thousand pieces..." This was a woman's voice.

Who were they talking about? Could it be Old Zhao...?

Mo Hua held his breath, listening intently.

As the three drew closer, their voices grew clearer. Among them was a voice that came faintly, and Mo Hua felt it sounded vaguely familiar.

"…If you still can't find him, you may go back first," said the man walking in front.

"I'm not going back!" This was a woman's voice.

"So this is the ability of your Xiancheng Dao Ting Si — you can't even find a single person?" said another man, his tone oddly barbed.

"That thief knows Great Heishan well and is hiding in the mountains. Searching like this is no different from fishing a needle out of the sea."

"Even if it's fishing a needle from the sea, we'll fish it out…"

"You aren't local cultivators, you don't understand — Great Heishan is overrun with demon beasts, it's extremely dangerous…"

"It's just a demon mountain in a second-grade prefecture, how dangerous could it possibly be?"

"The ignorant are fearless…"

"Hmph, I'm not like you, timid and cowardly! Whether it's demon beasts in this mountain or that thief, I'll cut down every single one I see…"

The man walking in front suddenly stopped and said with a cold laugh:

"Stop bragging. Someone's been watching us for a long time and you didn't even notice?"

"What did you say?"

"What watching?"

That man was silent for a moment, then suddenly drew his sword, pointing it from afar at the thicket where Mo Hua was hiding, and said coldly:

"Stop hiding. Come out!"

The other two were both startled at his words, then a flash of terror crossed their eyes. They each stepped back half a pace, drew their blades, and stood at the ready, looking solemn as they followed the direction of that man's sword point.

The mountain rocks were jagged, the wild grass thick and lush — nothing seemed out of place.

The more it was so, the more alarmed they grew.

The sword-bearing man's face was cold and stern, his heart on guard.

Had he not happened to use his divine sense and discovered a figure in the thicket so faint it was almost imperceptible, they would still have no idea that the three of them had been under observation the entire way!

The three of them, cultivators at the late stage of Qi Refining, had been spied upon with divine sense the whole way without the slightest awareness!

The stronger the divine sense, the deeper the cultivation, and on top of that, skilled at concealment, scheming and treacherous…

At this thought, the sword-bearing man felt a chill run down his back.

Mo Hua, hiding in the thicket, knew he had been discovered, so he slowly stood up at his leisure.

The three saw the grass sway slightly, and then a thin, small figure appeared.

Strange twigs grew from his head, and he wore what looked like a cultivator's Dao robe, but it was soaked through with grass stains. His face was grey-black, his features indistinguishable.

His spiritual power was also rather faint — no, it should be that he had deliberately concealed his aura.

"Is it a person? Or a demon beast?"

The sword-bearing man's expression grew even more tense, a chill rising in his heart, unsure whether to make a move.

Then he saw that thing — whether person or demon beast — wave at him and say in a clear, cheerful voice:

"Uncle Zhang, long time no see!"

The sword-bearing man was instantly dumbstruck.

That voice — he recognized it. That figure — he recognized it too…

"Mo… Mo Hua?!"

"Mm-hmm." Mo Hua nodded happily.

Zhang Lan was completely stunned. The sword in his hand clattered to the ground with a "clang."