Chapter 214: Zhou Zhangsi

Mo Hua's recent life had suddenly become much more exciting.

Always, Qian family cultivators or Qian family-hired cultivators sought to trouble him, but every move they made had long been watched by Mo Hua.

In most cases, as soon as they tried to act, the hunter-killers spotted them and beat them severely.

In rare cases, they hid well enough to evade nearby hunter-killers, but they could not escape Mo Hua's spiritual sense.

Mo Hua would call over several hunter-killer uncles, point his small hand, and identify each Qian family cultivator trailing him, after which they inevitably suffered another beating.

Mo Hua watched from the side like it was a show.

This made the days of Mo Hua practicing his cultivation art and studying arrays far less dull.

That day, Mo Hua chewed on wild fruits Jiang Yi had given him while talking with Young Master An.

Since that day Mo Hua had treated Young Master An to a meal, Young Master An had been coming here every few days.

Mo Hua was puzzled, "Aren't there dining halls in your home?"

"I got tired of that food. It's not as tasty as here, and it's livelier here," Young Master An said.

On his earlier visits, Young Master An had still been somewhat reserved.

Other cultivators, seeing his unusual attire, did not speak to him.

Later, as he came more often and grew familiar, and because he was Mo Hua's friend, the other cultivators began chatting with him.

Young Master An spoke knowledgeably about food, and he listened with great interest when others talked about Great Heishan or neighborhood gossip.

Bit by bit, Young Master An became less reserved than before.

Occasionally, he would bring some An family-brewed wine to share with everyone, and others would offer him wild fruits, pastries, or similar treats in return.

The flavors weren't necessarily good, but they were unique, and the goodwill was genuine.

Young Master An grew even fonder of coming here.

Staying at the An household always felt stifling to him.

Better to come to the eatery, chat with ordinary cultivators, drink some wine, and live freely and easily.

Seeing him so content, Mo Hua sighed with relief.

Young Master An heard strange and bizarre tales, then told Mo Hua them with omissions or embellishments; whether true or false, Mo Hua listened with great interest.

As night fell, Young Master An reluctantly headed home.

Mo Hua saw him off, then turned to see Zhang Lan walking over from the other side of the green stone path.

"Uncle Zhang? Why are you here now?"

Zhang Lan sighed, "Busy. Only now do I have time."

Mo Hua clearly didn't believe him.

Zhang Lan sighed helplessly, "Go, order me something to eat. Come back later—I have something to tell you."

"Should I order the most expensive things?"

"Yes, whatever you like."

Mo Hua didn't order anything truly expensive, just slightly pricier items—things he personally liked but rarely ate.

One kind of lamb had a slight muttony odor but was chewy and fragrant.

Another kind of dog meat was spicy and delicious.

Both these demonic beasts were herbivores; though they killed humans, they did not eat them, and their blood qi was relatively clean.

There were also some seasonal vegetables and pre-cut fruits.

Altogether, four or five dishes—meat and vegetables, colorful and neatly arranged—were placed on Zhang Lan's table.

Zhang Lan picked up a pair of chopsticks and handed them to Mo Hua first. "Sit down and eat too."

Mo Hua didn't refuse; he took the chopsticks and began eating.

The food was delicious—both because his mother made it and because he ordered it.

Mo Hua ate a few bites, couldn't help closing his eyes in pleasure, but remembering Zhang Lan would pay the spirit stones, he declared generously:

"I'll give you a twenty percent discount!"

Zhang Lan couldn't help laughing. "Fine, twenty percent off! Thank you, young shopkeeper!"

"You're welcome."

Mo Hua smiled, took another bite of lamb, and asked,

"You said you had something to tell me. What is it?"

Zhang Lan got straight to the point. "Zhou Zhangsi wants to see you."

Mo Hua froze. "Zhou Zhangsi? The Zhou Zhangsi of Dao Ting Si?"

"Correct," Zhang Lan said, tasting the meat and nodding. "He heard you draw arrays well, so he wants to meet you."

"Just because of that?"

Zhang Lan sighed.

It wasn't because he drew arrays well—it was because he drew them too well.

Zhang Lan had no idea when Mo Hua had learned to draw first-rank arrays; when Zhou Zhangsi mentioned it, he himself was stunned.

"Drawing arrays well naturally earns respect, especially when you're so young. Zhou Zhangsi certainly wants to meet you."

"There's another reason," Zhang Lan said. "You helped build the Swordcraft Workshop and the Pill Hall in Chengnan—those are the largest cultivation industries in Xiancheng."

"What does that have to do with Zhou Zhangsi?" Mo Hua asked, puzzled.

"Dao Ting Si also values achievements. Stability under jurisdiction, spirit stone tax revenue, and the construction of cultivation projects all count as achievements. The largest Swordcraft Workshop and Pill Hall in Xiancheng were built under his governance—these naturally count as his achievements."

Mo Hua suddenly understood.

Zhang Lan drank a cup of wine and continued: "The old Zhou Zhangsi worked diligently and humbly in his youth but achieved little. Now that he's old, his ambitions have faded, and he planned to retire. Yet, out of nowhere, this massive achievement landed on his lap."

Zhang Lan shook his head, laughing wryly. "It's a blessing, really. The old Zhou Zhangsi is deeply grateful to you."

Mo Hua smiled apologetically: "I didn't do much—just drew a few arrays."

Zhang Lan gave him a side-eye. "Enough with the modesty. Too much humility is just arrogance."

Did you really draw just 'a few' arrays?"

From the buildings to the alchemy furnaces and refining stoves—the arrays were all drawn by you, weren't they?"

Thinking of this, Zhang Lan couldn't help but sigh again.

He couldn't fathom how Mo Hua's little brain had grown to possess such immense spiritual awareness.

The entire refining and alchemy industries—so many arrays—and he did them all alone…"

Mo Hua said with some concern: "When I meet the Zhangsi, what should I watch out for? Does he have any taboos?"

Zhang Lan shook his head.

Mo Hua asked again: "By the way, isn't the Zhangsi surnamed Fu?"

Zhang Lan blinked in surprise. "What's wrong with being surnamed Fu?"

"If you're surnamed Fu, you automatically drop a rank—you become Vice Zhangsi. So if he were surnamed Fu, he'd only be called Zhangsi, never Fu Zhangsi."

Zhang Lan laughed bitterly. "Where on earth did you hear that?"

"It's part of Dao cultivation experience. Where I heard it—don't ask."

Zhang Lan sighed helplessly. "The Zhangsi is surnamed Zhou. He's a decent man, no taboos at all. You're young—even if you say something inappropriate, he won't scold you. Don't worry."

"Mm-hmm." Mo Hua nodded.

Two days later, Mo Hua followed Zhang Lan into the Dao Ting Si to meet Zhou Zhangsi.

The Dao Ting Si was still imposing, but clearly old; some rooms were tightly shut, their contents unknown.

The rooms that could be entered were mostly used by Ting Si cultivators for official duties—sparsely furnished, not luxurious, filled with various Dao scriptures, Juan Sect documents, and jade slips of different shapes.

It looked rather dull, different from what Mo Hua had imagined.

This was the upper structure; underground, it was said, lay the Dao Yu.

The Dao Yu was a prison for cultivators who had violated the Dao Code.

Mo Hua wanted to go see it, to broaden his horizons—but Zhang Lan wouldn't let him.