Chapter 335: The Dao Is Different

Qian's Ancestor suddenly understood, yet dared not believe it:

"How could it possibly be you? You're just a child…"

Mo Hua stubbornly denied: "It's not me."

But his denial was utterly useless.

Qian's Ancestor looked at Mo Hua, his gaze now utterly certain, yet seemingly not angry.

Mo Hua, tense yet puzzled, wondered:

He had tricked Great Heishan and tricked Qian's Ancestor—yet Qian's Ancestor's eyes held not a trace of hatred. Could his temper really be this good?

"Are you wondering why I'm not angry?" Qian's Ancestor asked.

Mo Hua nodded.

Qian's Ancestor's gaze grew deep: "If you were an ordinary cultivator—whether a beast hunter, a Dao Ting Si cultivator, or a clan cultivator—I would have carved you into eight pieces for destroying a century of my work."

The boar demon chewed Qian's Ancestor's lower half whole, swallowing it down in one gulp.

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then chose an unimpressive excuse:

Without Mo Hua's array assistance, given time, rebuilding a Great Baisan stronghold would be no great feat.

Time erodes the mind; Mo Hua is young, his Dao heart unlikely to have much hesitation.

"No place is impossible for Great Baisan—so long as there are people, there can be a Great Baisan stronghold."

"The Dao is different; we do not conspire together!"

He forced himself to calm down, wondering if there was still any way out.

Qian's Ancestor thought Mo Hua was pretending and didn't care.

"When you grow up, leave Xiancheng, see the world's suffering, witness its chaos, taste the despair of cultivation—you'll realize I was right…"

Qian's Ancestor merely found Mo Hua shrewd and sneered:

Mo Hua retorted defiantly: "Aren't you just delaying time?"

Mo Hua's gaze sharpened: "You want to kill me?"

"These matters, you could have thought about quickly before—but now, you can help me first. Whatever you want, I'll find a way to give it to you."

Either way, once my cultivation breaks through, I'll use Mo Hua's parents as leverage—I don't believe he'll disobey me.

"That clan head? He's dead because of you…"

Between human hearts, great desires exist.

Qian's Ancestor's gaze darkened slightly: "Hong er lacks talent, character, and skill—he has no value except his bloodline. I carry your blood in me."

But his thoughts were chaotic; he couldn't think of a single plan.

Qian's Ancestor frowned in thought, then his eyes lit up: "Ah—it doesn't matter if he's not a Qian clan member. He has that skill; his bloodline is irrelevant."

It was dead, its eyes white, its body emitting not a single breath.

Mo Hua was stunned—everything had been within Qian's Ancestor's calculations.

Even if I help Qian's Ancestor, I'm merely the eighth or ninth chief.

"So what if I'm a Qian clan member?" Mo Hua asked, puzzled.

"But you're different," Qian's Ancestor said, slightly surprised: "You're merely a child of ten or so, yet you've achieved all this—your courage and wit are extraordinary, beyond my expectations."

Qian's Ancestor still hadn't realized, but Mo Hua's expression of fear was too genuine to be feigned.

"I'm not killing you," Qian's Ancestor said. "But you must have parents, friends, right?"

Qian's Ancestor's gaze sharpened: "If you were a Qian clan member—even a distant branch—with even a drop of Qian blood, I could make you an Elder…"

Qian's Ancestor said calmly:

But Qian's Ancestor wasn't angry; he smiled faintly: "Use men to their full potential, use things to their full utility."

"Those who act unjustly will surely perish—you'll reap what you sow."

"What's your name? They're all just empty titles."

Qian's Ancestor, seeing Mo Hua was unmoved, lost interest in persuading him.

The boar, radiating a lifeless aura, stepped soundlessly before Qian's Ancestor.

Qian's Ancestor's gaze toward Mo Hua grew even more appreciative, yet held a hint of something unreadable: "You guess I'm not yet absorbing the medicinal power, aren't you?"

"So I'm just the perfect medicine ingredient?" Mo Hua retorted dryly.

He doesn't even treat his own grandson as human…

Qian's Ancestor's tone carried a faint regret.

"Great Baisan's Great Baisan stronghold is gone," Qian's Ancestor's gaze grew sharper. "But this world isn't just Great Baisan, nor is it just one Great Baisan stronghold."

Qian's Ancestor thought to turn and look—but it was already too late.

Mo Hua raised an eyebrow: "Dare you!"

Compared to Mo Hua, the ninth chief's array skills were far inferior.

Mo Hua was about to speak, but saw Qian's Ancestor smile faintly:

Qian's Ancestor said: "Everything in the Qian clan is decided by me. If I make you clan head, then you will be clan head!"

I can still rebuild Great Baisan stronghold, still raise heretical cultivators, still use arrays to hide and conceal myself.

That seventh bite swallowed Qian's Ancestor whole—the old schemer, entirely consumed!

Mo Hua opened his mouth, but couldn't speak.

"If true retribution truly existed, you'd have been punished long ago—you couldn't possibly still be alive."

"Aren't you still trying to buy time?"

Use them when useful, discard them when useful.

Qian's Ancestor's aura was gradually weakening!

Mo Hua's heart tightened slightly.

After all, it was unlikely another Great Cultivator could, like Mo Hua, both conceal himself and wield formation arts, yet lack courage and wit enough to sneak into Great Baishan Shanzhai and eavesdrop on Bai's hidden secrets.

That Qian Clan Ancestor really dared to think…

Knowing he had persuaded Mo Hua, the Qian Clan Ancestor pressed further.

Mo Hua glanced at me with disdain. "What does he say?"

By then, Mo Hua would have no choice but to serve me willingly.

"Then let it be decided by him," said the Qian Clan Ancestor coolly.

I saw that the dead pig had risen to its feet—alive and breathing!

Those who feed men to pigs end up feeding the pigs themselves.

A chill rose in Mo Hua's heart; panic surged.

"Why?"

Mo Hua smiled bitterly inside.

"How could it be…"

"If he steps forward, he becomes the leader of Great Baishan Shanzhai, beneath only a thousand others—these evil cultivators must all obey his orders, follow his lead!"

"As long as he helps you, you won't make things hard for us."

"You knew he rang the bell and summoned others, but that lair's labyrinthine layout meant by the time we arrived, you'd just finished refining the medicine's power, breaking through to Foundation Establishment's early stage—and perfectly timed to wipe us out and avenge last time's ambush."

Mo Hua understood the Qian Clan Ancestor's plan, and said with approval:

"It doesn't matter what Dao it is—as long as it's not his Dao," said Mo Hua.

Just as he was at a loss, Mo Hua suddenly froze, then his face twisted in terror as he stared past the Qian Clan Ancestor—as if witnessing something utterly horrifying.

The Qian Clan Ancestor's expression slowly faded, coldly saying:

Mo Hua froze, sent out his spiritual sense, and his heart jolted.

All I need do is devise a way to lure Mo Hua onto the evil Dao—even one step forward, and he can never turn back.

The Qian Clan Ancestor sensed nothing at all.

He even kills his own blood relatives—clearly devoid of feeling or righteousness; everything he says is nonsense, not a single word trustworthy.

But Mo Hua truly saw something terrifying!

The Qian Clan Ancestor said: "You doubt me?"

"Great Baishan Shanzhai is already in place," Mo Hua reminded me.

But this time, without Mo Hua's formation enhancements, Great Baishan Shanzhai would be even weaker—and forever impossible to discover.

That Qian Clan Ancestor's ambition is greater than I thought, his schemes truly far-reaching, and he cares nothing for short-term gains or temporary grudges.

Mo Hua sneered. "Even your lies need to be plausible."

Mo Hua had no patience for empty words with him, and declared bluntly: "I will never join forces with you!"

"I could even, if I wished, override all opposition and make you head of the Qian Clan!"

The Qian Clan Ancestor looked at Mo Hua and said: "You can join me, serve me—we'll rebuild a Great Baishan Shanzhai, and I'll make you its junior elder!"

The Qian Clan Ancestor murmured.

The Qian Clan Ancestor pleaded.

The Eighth Chief is locked in the Dao Prison; I need a formation master.

If Mo Hua helps me, whether the Eighth Chief lives or dies, I couldn't care less.

"More importantly, you're a formation master—and your formation skill is even deeper than the Third Chief's, who's at Foundation Establishment…"

As he struggled to turn his head, he saw the dead pig staring at him with pale, hollow eyes—coldly.

The Qian Clan Ancestor blinked, then shook his head. "You and I are not the same!"

It's just a matter of spending more time.

If I truly succeed, he will one day become a demonic warlord.

The Qian Clan Ancestor smiled faintly. "You're young—what do you know of Dao?"

The pig demon, eyes rolled back, opened its bloody maw—and with one bite, severed half the Qian Clan Ancestor's left body.

"What if you're willing?" Mo Hua said coldly.

Mo Hua's gaze toward the Qian Clan Ancestor grew even more contemptuous.

Before the Qian Clan Ancestor could speak again, the bloody maw opened once more.

Qian Niu Huan feared angering Mo Hua, feared resentment taking root—he wanted Mo Hua to serve him willingly, so he spoke softly:

Shock remained frozen on Qian Niu Huan's face—he had no idea what had happened.

"It's a pity… you're not a Qian Clan scion…"

"Then wait until I've seen it myself," Mo Hua didn't believe a word the Qian Clan Ancestor said. "Nothing's real unless you've seen it with your own eyes."

I've been refining the power of the Life-Transmutation Pill all along, talking to myself—just playing with myself!

"Being clan head isn't such a bad thing," Mo Hua pointed at Qian Hong lying on the ground: