Chapter 2: Chapter Two: The Dao Stele

Since Mo Hua could remember, this Dao Stele had appeared in his mind sea, along with faint, elusive memories.

In those memories, Mo Hua had lived a brief life in another world devoid of spiritual energy.

In that lifetime, Mo Hua's family was ordinary, but he studied hard, achieved good grades, passed the college entrance exam, and majored in fine arts, favoring the study of traditional Chinese painting and calligraphy.

After graduation, he worked as a graphic designer at a large company, working overtime until he died of overwork in his twenties.

As a student he studied; after graduation he worked—spending his entire life in tension and anxiety.

When he came to his senses, he realized he had lived aimlessly and died unexpectedly.

In the final moments before death, his entire life flashed before his eyes like a spinning lantern.

In his entire life, he had never done a single truly valuable thing: he had not filially cared for his parents, never pursued his ideals, had no dreams, no love, and had never seen the sights of the Great Thousand Worlds…

These memories were vague, and sometimes Mo Hua could not tell if they were real or not.

Zhuangzi dreamed of a butterfly, unsure whether Zhuangzi dreamed of the butterfly, or the butterfly dreamed of Zhuangzi.

Over time, Mo Hua stopped obsessing over it.

The past was past; now he was ten years old, living in the cultivation world.

And he was a cultivator.

A cultivator capable of comprehending the Dao, soaring through the Nine Continents, plucking sun and moon with a gesture, burying stars with a flick of the wrist!

Or he could be one who spent his entire life stuck at Qi Refinement, unable to fly or fight, unable to cast more than a few spells, scraping by in humble survival…

Without the Dao Stele, Mo Hua guessed he would have been the latter.

The Dao Stele floated within Mo Hua's mind sea.

Broad, ancient, and crude, its surface was broken and incomplete; it seemed insubstantial, yet pulsated with vast, obscure energy—flickering, then suddenly silent, empty, void…

The insubstantial surface of the stele could be used to draw arrays, and each time he drew an array, Mo Hua's spiritual sense strengthened.

Among all cultivation arts, array art is supreme!

Array art is the most difficult discipline among all cultivation fields, and the most crucial for learning arrays is spiritual sense!

Arrays are composed of array patterns—ancient cultivators, after painstakingly comprehending the Dao, meticulously traced these patterns of the Dao.

The patterns of arrays resemble archaic script, yet also resemble minimalist paintings, containing infinite mysteries.

When drawing arrays, the mind sea connects with the Dao's mysteries, consuming enormous spiritual sense.

If a cultivator's spiritual sense is insufficient, he cannot draw arrays—otherwise he risks spiritual exhaustion, even the shattering of his mind sea and death with his Dao destroyed. To become an array master, one must continuously study various array diagrams and practice countless arrays.

Thus, arrays are hard to learn, hard to master, and array masters often die from overextending their spiritual sense, causing their mind sea to collapse.

When Mo Hua draws arrays on the Dao Stele, he consumes spiritual sense—but when he erases the drawn array, that spiritual sense instantly returns, replenishing Mo Hua's spiritual sense.

From existence to nonexistence, then from nonexistence to existence—like the Dao, profoundly mysterious.

Meanwhile, each time Mo Hua draws an array, his spiritual sense increases slightly, though minuscule, it truly increases.

According to Mo Hua's knowledge, the cultivation world has no cultivation methods to train spiritual sense; most spiritual sense growth relies on breakthroughs in realm.

Therefore, even this tiny increase in spiritual sense is extremely rare.

As long as Mo Hua keeps drawing arrays on the Dao Stele, he can improve his array skills, and as long as he keeps drawing arrays, his spiritual sense will continuously grow.

And with stronger spiritual sense, Mo Hua can learn more, higher-level, and more powerful arrays.

One day, Mo Hua will become a powerful array master through this.

Array masters hold esteemed status—even ordinary, ungraded array masters who draw arrays for others earn substantial spiritual stones.

Once he becomes an array master, able to draw various mysterious arrays, he gains a foundation to stand on, and can continue cultivating without being stuck forever as a Qi Refinement cultivator.

Mo Hua silently thought to himself.

But becoming an array master is fraught with immense difficulties.

Arrays are hard to learn; array masters are hard to become.

Among the cultivation disciplines set by the Dao Court, the certification of array masters is the strictest, even the harshest.

Arrays are composed of array patterns; basic arrays contain only one pattern—each additional pattern raises the array's rank and enhances its effect, while drastically increasing the required spiritual sense.

Drawing one to five patterns qualifies one as an array apprentice.

Drawing six to eight patterns qualifies one as an array master—but such masters are ordinary, not recognized by the Dao Court's grading system.

Only by drawing nine patterns and passing the Dao Court's grading examination can one become a true first-grade array master.

Becoming a first-grade array master is, for a Qi Refinement cultivator, nearly ascending to heaven in a single step.

First-grade array masters are treated as honored guests by every major clan and sect—even Foundation Establishment cultivators dare not offend them lightly. Even if they do nothing, they receive monthly spiritual stone subsidies from the Dao Court's Tian Shu Pavilion, and countless young, beautiful female cultivators will flood their doors, vying to become their cultivation partners.

But besides the extreme difficulty of the examination, each province has a fixed quota for first-grade array masters—becoming one depends not only on effort but also on Zhao Tianming.

If one is unlucky and the provincial quota is full, even with the skill of a first-grade array master, one will not receive a grading slot and must wait for the next examination.

Some array masters, while striving, waste their entire lives.

Countless low-level cultivators exhaust their minds and spirits, study until their hair turns white, yet never fulfill their lifelong dream of becoming a first-grade array master.

The Dao Court's所谓 "quota limits" are usually just an excuse concocted by major clans and Zuheda Sects—they need the title of first-grade array master to adorn their direct heirs or disciples, making them appear as prodigies admired by all.

Those low-level cultivators who sweat and bleed to become first-grade array masters are merely dust beneath their feet.

It was already night; Mo Hua lay in his disciple dormitory, his spiritual sense sinking into his mind sea, continuously drawing arrays on the Dao Stele.

The array Mo Hua drew was called the Dual Yuan Array, containing two array patterns—one of the basic arrays.

But Mo Hua had never successfully drawn this array before.

Qi Refinement beginners, due to insufficient spiritual sense, can usually learn only arrays with one pattern; among the early-stage Qi Refinement disciples of Tongxian Gate, few could master even a single pattern.

Yet Mo Hua had long mastered single patterns, drawing them effortlessly.

Mo Hua wanted to learn harder arrays, so every night he practiced the Dual Yuan Array with two patterns on the Dao Stele.

After dozens of nights of relentless practice and persistent effort, Mo Hua finally succeeded.

For array masters learning arrays, each pattern is a threshold—each additional pattern climbed is another step upward.

Being able to draw two formation patterns meant that Mo Hua's divine sense and formation mastery had already surpassed cultivators of the same age by a wide margin.

Among the outer-gate Qi Refining early-stage disciples of the Tongxian Sect, his formation mastery should be considered one of a kind.

Mo Hua let out a breath. When the Mao hour brought daylight, his divine sense left the sea of consciousness, and Mo Hua opened his eyes as well.

Even though he had drawn formations all night, Mo Hua's divine sense remained clear, and he did not feel weary, as if he had simply slept soundly through the night.

He pushed open the window, and the morning sunlight fell upon his fair, Bai Xi features.

Outside the window, the rising sun climbed, its rosy clouds draping across ten thousand miles.

Ten-year-old Mo Hua let out a soft breath, gazing at the horizon with resolute eyes.

As long as he kept practicing formations and tempering his divine sense without pause, the day would come when he could surely become a first-rank formation master.

When that day came, like a rising sun, he would surely take a great stride forward on the path of seeking immortality and asking the Dao.

Never again would he remain at Qi Refining for life!