Chapter 280

The tall cultivator of evil was startled by the words and shook his head.

He dared not provoke the misfortune of the Fourth Chief.

"Then let the fat man die."

He then asked: "Should we just feed him to it, and save some trouble?"

"If this beast wanted to eat people, it would've done so long ago—why wait for us to feed it? It's picky; it won't eat human flesh."

"That's strange." The tall cultivator of evil was surprised.

"Exactly."

The two cultivators of evil tossed the fat man's corpse out and began cleaning the blood from the room.

Soon they noticed the array at the demon-binding chains—it seemed noticeably dimmer.

The tall cultivator of evil frowned and said: "Has this array broken? Or has someone tampered with it?"

Mo Hua, hidden on the beam, was slightly startled, wondering whether he should also trap and kill these two cultivators of evil.

He had tampered with far too many arrays in Great Heishan.

Generally, once an array master completes an array, unless it fails, they won't bother checking it again.

After all, Great Heishan had so many arrays, big and small—he couldn't possibly inspect them all.

But if these two cultivators of evil discovered the array had been tampered with and reported it to the Third Chief, the evil cultivators would conduct a thorough investigation and uncover the traces Mo Hua left behind when dismantling the array.

Even if they couldn't see Mo Hua, they'd increase their vigilance.

Mo Hua would no longer be able to gather information so easily.

Mo Hua weighed the two cultivators' strength in his mind, considering whether he could eliminate them right here.

He couldn't do it alone—but he had this great tiger.

With the great tiger's help, striking secretly, killing one first, then dealing with the other together—he estimated he could manage it.

The short cultivator of evil also stepped forward to inspect the array and asked: "Do you understand arrays?"

"No." The tall cultivator of evil shook his head.

"Then why are you talking like you do?"

"But this array really does seem different."

"What could possibly be different?" the short cultivator of evil said. "It's just an array—I can't tell any difference."

"How can it be the same?" The tall cultivator of evil still hesitated.

The short cultivator of evil muttered low: "Use your stupid brain— if this array had truly failed, would the tiger demon be lying here so calmly?"

The tall cultivator of evil paused, then nodded slightly. "That makes sense."

He glanced at the tiger demon.

The tiger demon hung its head, lying still and docile, appearing weak and listless.

The tall cultivator of evil couldn't help saying: "This beast seems so well-behaved—how could it suddenly bite that fat man to death?"

"Probably the fat man did something to provoke it, angering the beast and costing him his life. This sort of thing happens all the time—newcomers don't know their place…"

The tall cultivator of evil nodded.

After that, the two stopped talking and focused on scrubbing the blood from the floor.

Mo Hua, seeing they weren't dwelling on the array, relaxed.

Fortunately, these two cultivators of evil were "array-blind"—they knew nothing about arrays; otherwise, he'd have had to go through more trouble.

Mo Hua glanced again at the great tiger and thought: Do your best—I can only help you this far. Whether you escape or not is up to you.

The tiger demon lowered its head and let out a soft "hmm."

As if it had truly heard Mo Hua's inner words.

Mo Hua shook his head—this great tiger was far too clever.

Another day passed; most tasks were done, and Mo Hua began considering whether to return.

The fat cultivator was dead, Kong Sheng's jade pendant was in hand, the map of Great Heishan was nearly complete, and Mo Hua had gathered all the information he could.

More secret information might be unknown to the front-camp cultivators of evil, and Mo Hua dared not venture into the rear camp.

It was time to stop.

But before returning, Mo Hua still had one lingering dilemma.

That was the fireball technique manual of the pale-faced man.

He had watched the pale-faced man for days, hoping to steal the manual, copy it, and return it unnoticed.

But after days of watching, he found no opportunity.

The pale-faced man kept his storage pouch always on his person and treated the fireball technique manual as a priceless treasure.

And as for Kong Sheng—killing him was easy, but doing so without leaving traces was difficult.

Mo Hua sighed.

It seemed he could only find another way later.

That night, Scarface and the pale-faced man were still on watch, huddled around the fire, roasting foul meat and drinking bitter wine.

Mo Hua remained hidden nearby, listening.

He planned to return home tomorrow; tonight, he'd eavesdrop once more, hoping to pick up new information.

Scarface and the pale-faced man drank and chatted.

Either complaints, lewd jokes, or meaningless nonsense.

No new intelligence emerged.

Mo Hua grew weary; just as he considered leaving tonight, he heard Scarface and the pale-faced man begin discussing cultivation of evil arts.

The pale-faced man first sighed: "My 'spirit slave' died—what bad luck. I'll have to raise another one."

Scarface sneered: "Did you suck too hard?"

"How could anyone be harsher than you?" the pale-faced man grumbled. "What have you turned your 'cultivation vessel' into?"

"No matter what, she's still alive, isn't she?"

"Better dead than suffer like this."

"You feel sorry for her?" Scarface looked at him with a half-smile.

The pale-faced man said: "I'm not like you—I don't know how to cherish beauty. If I practiced cultivation through sexual absorption, I'd treat her tenderly…"

Scarface sneered: "What the hell are you pretending to be?"

The pale-faced man wasn't offended; he grinned lewdly, then suddenly frowned.

"This woman has a cultivation partner, doesn't she? How could she willingly let you drain her?"

Scarface laughed: "I threatened her husband—if she refused, I'd make him die a miserable death."

"For her husband's sake, she submitted to me completely, giving herself up each time, then begged me afterward not to harm him."

The pale-faced man chuckled: "You're truly a beast."

Scarface's gaze grew greedy as he grinned savagely.

The pale-faced man took a sip of wine, then suddenly exclaimed: "Huh?"

"Wait a minute—didn't you kill her husband with a single slash long ago?"

Scarface burst into loud laughter. "Didn't I?"

"You're really something…"

…

Mo Hua's expression gradually turned cold; he couldn't bear to hear any more.

Mo Hua rose and left, following a dark path to a corner of Great Heishan Shanzhai, where simple huts stood, housing imprisoned innocent cultivators.

Few female cultivators remained alive in Great Heishan Shanzhai; Mo Hua checked several rooms until he found the woman Scarface had mentioned.

The woman was held alone in one room.

The room was sparsely furnished, with basic food; no chains bound her, and she was free to move within the room—only forbidden to leave.

Night was pitch-black; a cold, mournful moonlight streamed through the window.

The woman lay numbly on the bed, her hair disheveled, clothes torn, her body covered in bruises—fragile and pitiful.

She didn't cry; her tears had long dried.

Suddenly, she slowly sat up, took a wooden hairpin from beside her bed, and pressed it to her heart—but then paused, her hands trembling, unable to thrust it in.

After a moment, she seemed to accept her fate, and lay back down numbly, yet clutched tightly in her fist a sachet, her knuckles white from gripping it.

The sachet was embroidered with a pair of brocade mandarin ducks.

Mo Hua remembered his mother telling him this was a token of affection between cultivation partners.

She must have been worried about her husband's safety.

Even through torment, even after losing her dignity, she clung to life.

But her husband was already dead; her future held nothing but endless torment and pain.

Her persistence was merely endurance of suffering.

Mo Hua wanted to save her—but he couldn't.

His cultivation was too low; his spells were still weak. Though he could conceal himself and trap enemies, he was not skilled in killing.

By the time he went out to call for help, it would be too late.

This woman wouldn't last until then.

Mo Hua's mood grew heavy; he sighed softly and spoke: "Your husband is already dead."

The woman stared blankly: "Really?"

Her voice was hoarse, yet not surprised—perhaps as husband and wife, she had long sensed it, but refused to admit it, still clinging to a sliver of hope.

"Scarface said it himself."

"So… he's dead…" The woman's tears, long dried, began to well again.

"He's… dead…"

The room fell silent; the woman's weeping made no sound.

"Thank you."

The woman spoke slowly; she didn't know who spoke, but the voice sounded young—perhaps a child.

How could a child be here?

In this filthy, terrifying place?

Perhaps an immortal's attendant, unable to bear my suffering, came to tell me the truth.

Do immortals truly exist in this world?

If immortals do exist, I don't ask you to save me from this hell—I only ask you to condemn the wicked to eternal torment.

The woman silently made her vow, then, left hand clutching the sachet, right hand gripping the wooden hairpin, drove it fiercely into her heart meridian.

Blood stained her clothes, like poppies in the night.

The woman closed her eyes slowly, her face peaceful, relieved.

"Husband, this life was too bitter. If there is a next life, let us become cultivation partners again."

Before closing her eyes, she whispered silently in her heart.

Mo Hua watched silently, his young face filled with sorrow, then ignited with boundless rage.

Those who deserve to die still live; those who deserve to live die in misery.

The moonlight was cold; Mo Hua's gaze, standing in the darkness, grew colder still.

He had decided — before going back, he'd kill that Scarface first!

Thanks to Fei Qi Yi Jian for the tip~ (PS: 飛起一劍 = "A Flying Sword Strike")

Also, there are a few things about the plot I want to mention.

This book leans toward traditional xianxia. In terms of plot, there will be both "immortal" and "chivalrous" elements — it won't be a story of just hiding away and doing Yiqi Xiuxian the whole time.

Also, the place Great Heishan — although it's dangerous, Mo Hua isn't exactly "weak" either.

His attacks are just a bit weak, but his utility is maxed out. Stealth, control, and movement — they're all basically the ceiling for the Qi Refining stage.

So actually, it's not as dangerous as it looks.

One last thing — this isn't one of those formulaic stories. The plot is actually interconnected front-to-back. Some things, halfway through being written, people already start complaining about — there's really no need for that, haha.

There will be three updates today, but I'll post them a bit earlier.

I got a recommendation recently, and subscriptions have gone up quite a bit — thanks, everyone~

Lastly, I wish everyone good health and happiness.