Chapter 148

"Old Mo… Mo Shan—no, Brother Mo!" a hunter grabbed Mo Shan's shoulder.

"Tell me, given our friendship, if I beg on my old face for your son to draw me a formation, would he agree?"

Before Mo Shan could speak, another hunter chimed in:

"Your face is big?"

"At your age, stop trying to live off your looks."

Someone nearby laughed and joined in the teasing.

"Mo Shan, just tell us—how many spirit stones to draw this formation? Give me something to look forward to."

Mo Shan smiled bitterly. "I'll have to ask my son. This formation isn't easy to draw."

Everyone thought for a moment and nodded.

A formation capable of withstanding a single strike from a first-grade late-stage beast was indeed not easy to draw.

Another hunter whispered to Mo Shan: "Your son—has he settled on a bride yet?"

Mo Shan nodded. "He's still young."

"Not too young—not too young. This sort of thing should be planned early."

"What are you scheming?"

The hunter chuckled. "I have a daughter—beautiful as can be. How about we become in-laws?"

"Mo Shan, don't listen to him—he's full of nonsense. My niece is the one who's beautiful."

"Brother Mo, don't rush this. I say wait—by next year, my daughter will be born…"

"How old is your daughter? Shameless!"

…

Mo Shan watched them chatter endlessly and smiled helplessly.

This hunt had its twists, but overall went smoothly and didn't take long.

After descending the mountain, they sold the beasts, divided the spirit stones, and went home.

Night fell; lanterns along the street flickered on one by one.

Mo Shan walked down familiar streets, pushed open the familiar courtyard gate, and returned home.

Liu Ruhua had already prepared the meal: greens, beef, and steaming rice porridge on the table.

Over dinner, Mo Shan asked Mo Hua: "Did you draw a formation on the vine armor?"

"Mm-hmm." Mo Hua nodded, holding a Bai Bai bun in one hand, his mouth stuffed with meat.

"I drew the Jin Jiazhen!"

"Jin Jiazhen? Is it higher rank than the Iron Armor Formation?"

"Yes. Its effect is much stronger than the Iron Armor Formation."

Mo Shan thought for a moment, then asked:

"Some of the hunters in your team want you to draw this formation for them too."

"Sure. But I'll need to wait a while."

Mo Hua needed time to study a new first-grade formation; once his formation skills stabilized, he could return to drawing the Jin Jiazhen to improve his proficiency.

Mo Hua thought again and added: "If they want me to draw the Jin Jiazhen, they must prepare some metal-element ink and brushes. Spirit stones are just a token—consider it payment for the effort."

After all, free cultivators aren't wealthy.

Mo Shan relaxed and smiled.

"I'll tell them to get ready. When you're free later, you can draw them then."

"Alright!" Mo Hua agreed, then asked curiously:

"Dad, how well does the Jin Jiazhen on the vine armor work?"

He wanted to know what a first-grade Jin Jiazhen could do.

Mo Shan was about to say "it works well"—after all, the first-grade late-stage Kuimu Wolf hadn't torn the vine armor apart.

In his entire life, he'd never worn armor this tough.

But the words stuck in his throat.

Saying "it works well" would mean admitting he'd faced danger in the mountains.

He had never told his wife or son about the dangers he'd encountered, to spare them worry.

After a moment's hesitation, Mo Shan said: "It should work well. But today's hunt went smoothly—we didn't encounter any real danger. We'll talk about it next time."

Mo Hua nodded, slightly disappointed.

But then he thought again: not encountering danger was always better.

Whether it was the vine armor or the Jin Jiazhen, their purpose was to reduce danger—but no matter how much you reduced it, danger still existed.

The best outcome was to encounter no danger at all.

Thinking this, Mo Hua relaxed and ate his meal happily.

As he ate, Mo Hua remembered another question: "Dad, how's Uncle Zhao?"

Mo Shan frowned. "Not good. He hasn't woken up yet."

Old Zhao entered the mountains and was pursued by an unknown cultivator. During his escape, he fell off a cliff, got caught on tree branches, and was later found by Mo Hua's spiritual sense.

Barely clinging to life, Old Zhao survived—otherwise, he'd likely have been dead.

"Was it the Qian family?"

"No solid proof—but nine times out of ten."

Mo Hua thought for a moment. "Did the Qian family target Uncle Zhao to vent their anger—or to cover something up?"

"Elder Yu is investigating, but has found no leads. We'll know more once Uncle Zhao wakes up," Mo Shan sighed.

Mo Hua looked worried. "When will Uncle Zhao wake up?"

Mo Shan stroked Mo Hua's head and said:

"Don't worry. Master Feng checked him—he'll wake up in the next couple of days. If you have time, you can go see him."

"Mm." Mo Hua nodded.

The next day, Mo Hua went to Xinglin Hall.

The severely injured, comatose Old Zhao was placed in a side room of Xinglin Hall.

Old Zhao's wife was pregnant and too frail to tire herself—she could only spare a little time each day to visit her husband.

Elder Yu often came by and frequently arranged people to help care for Old Zhao, but though his life was no longer in danger, he remained unconscious.

When Mo Hua arrived, he found Elder Yu there too.

Elder Yu, who had been expressionless, instantly softened upon seeing Mo Hua. "Mo Hua, you've come."

"Mm, I came to see Uncle Zhao."

Mo Hua walked to the bedside and saw Uncle Zhao still lying pale as paper; he felt worried. Then he asked Elder Yu in a low voice:

"Elder, have you found out anything about the Qian family?"

Elder Yu hesitated, then lowered his voice:

"I sent people to investigate. For over a month, someone from the Qian family has been sneaking into Great Heishan—quietly, suspiciously—no one knows what they're doing."

Mo Hua frowned. "I went into the mountain too, but I never saw them."

"They mostly go under cover of night, slipping in and vanishing immediately—of course you wouldn't run into them. Not just you—even other demon hunters noticed nothing," Elder Yu explained.

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then suddenly said: "Uncle Zhao ran into them?"

Elder Yu nodded. "He went up the mountain that evening—perhaps he happened upon the Qian family. Maybe he learned what they were doing. So they decided to kill him to silence him…"

Kill to silence!

Mo Hua's heart leapt.

What were the Qian family doing in Great Heishan that they had to kill to cover their tracks?

At that moment, Master Feng entered. Elder Yu and Mo Hua fell silent.

Master Feng carried a tray: on it lay pills, acupuncture needles, and a small stove steaming with heat.

"Grandpa Feng, what are you going to do?" Mo Hua asked.

"I'll use acupuncture to unblock his meridians and stimulate the medicine's effect—he should wake up soon."

"Oh oh." Mo Hua nodded repeatedly, watching curiously from the side.

Master Feng heated the herbs over the stove to extract their essence, then quenched the golden needles with the medicine before inserting them into Old Zhao's acupoints.

Old Zhao's skin gradually flushed red, dark blood seeped out, and the chaotic Qi within him slowly stabilized—then his eyes suddenly opened.

Everyone rejoiced.

Elder Yu's expression eased slightly; he was just about to tell him to rest well when Old Zhao suddenly gripped his arm with fierce strength.

Old Zhao's breath was unsteady; he could not speak.

But he still clutched Elder Yu tightly, gritted his teeth, and poured every ounce of strength into uttering those words:

"Great Heishan… has a spirit vein!"

Upon hearing this, Elder Yu's pupils dilated in shock.