Chapter 295: Evil Thoughts

After eating, Mo Hua practiced a formation for a while, then lay on the bed, closing his eyes to rest, waiting for midnight to enter his consciousness sea.

In the consciousness sea, the ethereal Dao Stele appeared.

Mo Hua carefully examined the Dao Stele and found no abnormalities—it was exactly as usual.

Mo Hua was slightly disappointed.

He had thought that after eating the Green-Faced Imp and refining its spiritual thought, his spiritual sense had prematurely reached Foundation Establishment, and the Dao Stele would undergo some mysterious change.

But now it seemed he had imagined too much.

The Dao Stele was ethereal, ancient, profound, and silent—like the Dao itself, eternal and unchanging.

Mo Hua silently stared at the Dao Stele.

This Dao Stele had accompanied Mo Hua for over a decade in his consciousness sea; originally, he knew it intimately, but now, looking again, he felt it was unfathomable, as if hiding countless unknown causes and effects.

"I wonder if, when my realm advances further, my spiritual sense grows stronger, or my Dao cultivation broadens, I'll be able to uncover the secrets hidden within the Dao Stele?"

Mr. Zhuang said, "You ate the Great Ghost and refined it, so your spiritual sense suddenly surged?"

Mo Hua read while gazing at the scenery, and suddenly felt his evil thoughts vanish, his mood growing calm and relaxed.

Mr. Zhuang asked, his tone slightly icy.

Mo Hua immediately sat in meditation, discarding distracting thoughts.

During those days, Mo Hua came to visit me; I thought he had gone off to play somewhere and simply lost track of time, never imagining that in just a few days, his spiritual sense had already reached Foundation Establishment.

Mo Hua nodded, "I ate it."

Above was golden sunlight; before him, emerald-green mountains.

"I'll ask Mr. Zhuang tomorrow."

The sky was still early; Mr. Zhuang was still dozing.

"Why isn't it good to say?"

Cultivation demands daily, nightly effort and persistent practice; nothing can be achieved overnight, nor can one seek quick gains.

Mo Hua had assumed that spiritual sense manifestation was common, but seeing the Great Ghost's expression, he realized not every cultivator could manifest their spiritual sense within the consciousness sea.

"Because no one has ever done that…"

He recalled Lu Hezhen's words: the visualization chart was perilous beyond measure; the spiritual sense visualized might be some "non-human" entity…

"Who is he?"

"Yes, sir!" Mo Hua smiled shyly, his eyes sparkling with quiet pride.

Lu Hezhen studied Mo Hua for a moment, his tone slightly urgent, and asked, "Where did your spiritual sense come from?"

Mo Hua sat as usual on the steps of the room, picked up a formation book, and quietly read it on his knees.

Cultivation relies on gradual accumulation; formations rely on water dripping through stone.

"Yes," Mr. Zhuang looked at Mo Hua, his expression simple, "No one before you has ever eaten a Great Ghost—it's the first time."

"That…," Lu Hezhen's gaze darkened, "isn't good to say."

"It wanted to eat you; you didn't let it. You used a formation to injure it, and it turned into a few wisps of green smoke, which you swallowed into your stomach…"

Mr. Zhuang stood in place, expression calm, several times opening his mouth as if to speak, then stopping, finally asking urgently:

After cultivation, his spiritual energy was fuller; Mo Hua ate the breakfast his mother made, took some wine and meat, and went to visit Mr. Zhuang at the Seat of Forgetting.

"Wasn't the Green-Faced Ghost's spiritual thought purified clean? Why are so many evil thoughts still lingering?"

This was also the most difficult formation Mo Hua had learned so far.

"So now, your spiritual sense has already reached Foundation Establishment?"

Mo Hua focused on practicing the Reverse Spirit Formation.

Mo Hua blinked, "Has anyone ever eaten a Great Ghost?"

Every time he expended his spiritual sense, faint afterimages still surfaced in his consciousness sea.

At the hour of Mao, dawn broke; Mo Hua sat cross-legged, bathed in morning sunlight, as usual in his cultivation.

Among the afterimages were the Daoist temple hidden in Qingshan, a Daoist boy whose expression shifted between innocent and evil, Daoist priests who alternated between transcendent grace and greedy greed, and all manner of cultivators with hidden agendas…

"Mm." Mo Hua nodded.

Mr. Zhuang nodded slightly, "And then?"

Seeing Mr. Zhuang seemed lost in thought, Mo Hua voiced his concern:

As he looked, Mo Hua suddenly noticed silence in the room; he turned and saw Lu Hezhen had risen, watching him with a serious expression.

"Your spiritual sense can manifest?" Mr. Zhuang asked.

Mo Hua spoke briefly and clearly.

Mr. Zhuang, usually calm as clouds and wind, unmoved even if Taishan collapsed before him, could not hide his shock: "Ate it?"

Otherwise, lingering evil thoughts would subtly pollute the consciousness sea, leading one astray, even into error.

Moments later, Mo Hua opened his eyes and frowned.

Mo Hua hadn't visited his master in quite a few days.

In the mountain dwelling, the scenery remained unchanged—serene and tranquil, calming the heart.

Mo Hua learned from the Green-Faced Ghost that the manifestation of one's own spiritual thought within the consciousness sea was called spiritual sense manifestation.

This was an intricate formation pattern beyond the reach of ordinary first-rank formation masters; the formation composed of these intricate patterns was the First-Rank Ten-Stroke Reverse Spirit Formation.

At this moment, Mr. Zhuang's expression was also unsurprised; it seemed that though he had not asked before, he had already guessed Mo Hua's spiritual sense manifested naturally.

Mo Hua's inner state fluctuated frequently.

If true, the aftereffects of "eating" the Great Ghost might be even more dangerous than he thought.

Since evil thoughts remained, he must not use his spiritual sense to practice formations again.

It was the visualization chart…

Mr. Zhuang tugged at the corner of his mouth. "How did you eat it?"

Though it is said that for everything, if one prepares, one succeeds; if one prepares, one fails.

"There wasn't a big ghost in the diagram, it leapt into your Sea of Consciousness, so you just ate it…"

Mo Hua thought to himself.

For Mo Hua as he was now, there was only that one formation worth spending a little more time practicing.

Mo Hua gave a rough account of what had happened, only not mentioning the Dao Stele.

Sun Yi Leng scratched his head. "Mr., I am Mo Hua…"

Of course, Mo Hua only thought that in his heart; if he said it out loud, he would surely attract hatred.

Mo Hua had not expected that the well-traveled Mr. Zhuang would give such an ambiguous answer, so he asked:

Lu Hezhen sighed, slowly sat back down, her expression once again becoming leisurely, though her heart was clearly not as calm as she appeared on the surface.

"Too fast…" Mr. Zhuang muttered inwardly.

Mo Hua nodded, thinking to himself that he was indeed worthy of being Mr. Zhuang — he had only spoken a few words, yet Mr. Zhuang had already guessed the whole story, piece by piece.

Mo Hua stole a glance toward the outside of the room and saw that Mr. Zhuang was indeed still leisurely lying on the bamboo chair, eyes closed, resting his spirit, wandering beyond the heavens, so he decided not to disturb him.

Sometimes simple, sometimes irritable, sometimes dispirited, sometimes violent, and some even developed a greed for human flesh and blood.

But as he practiced, Mo Hua sensed that something was off.

But Mo Hua's divine sense was growing so fast it was simply impossible to predict; because of this, all the preparations and plans he had made before would have to be overturned and redone…

Even though Mo Hua's divine sense was already very strong now, formations still had to be practiced step by step, polished and consolidated over and over.

In fact, it was the aura of the Dao Stele that burned the green-faced little ghost into green smoke.

After all, his divine sense had already spoken-sensed Foundation Establishment; speaking-sensing a first-grade formation could not deepen any comprehension, nor could it temper his divine sense — drawing it was like drinking water, easy and effortless, yet also flavorful.

"Mr., I ate the little ghost in the visualization diagram, and it seems my Sea of Consciousness now has its memories. Speaking-sensing will give rise to many illusions and produce all sorts of distracting thoughts — will that be dangerous?"

"I saw a visualization diagram."

Afterward, Mo Hua set aside his distracting thoughts and, as usual, practiced formations on the Dao Stele.

Mo Hua then continued to sit in meditation, reflect on himself, overcome evil thoughts, and guard his original mind.

Mo Hua used his finger as a brush, drawing complex and profound formation patterns on the Dao Stele.