Chapter 548: Leaving the City

The Soul-Refining Blood Banner sealed the city, under the sweeping tide of a monstrous sword.

Lishan City had become ruins.

Yesterday's carved beams and painted rafters, today's broken walls and shattered pillars; once-golden splendor now reduced to a litter of debris.

Bai Ba pulled the cart, walking ahead.

Mo Hua, Young Master Xiao, Little Sister Xiao, and Snow Aunt followed behind, joining the main group of Wuxing Sect cultivators as they left the Wuxing Sect, passed through the protective mountain array, and entered the desolate Lishan City.

Mo Hua, seeing the surroundings, realized that Lishan City had long been an empty shell—its merchants were mostly hidden demonic cultivators.

There were few genuine cultivators.

When disaster struck, most of these cultivators either died, were wounded, or fled.

The merchant cultivators were not native to the area.

They came for profit, and left when profit vanished.

No one wished to perish with Lishan City, and no one cared about its survival or fall.

A flower without soil blooms in splendor, then withers in an instant.

Lishan City, where every inch of land was worth its weight in gold, saw its prosperity end, revealing its true, barren, earthen form.

But Mo Hua did not care about any of this.

He walked along the road, occasionally glancing back, hoping that one day, turning around, he would see his master again.

Yet in the end, he saw nothing.

Mo Hua lowered his head in sorrow.

Bai Zisheng was also deeply saddened; he patted Mo Hua on the shoulder.

Bai Zi Xi held Mo Hua's hand.

Snow Aunt looked at them with surprise, her expression complex, sighing faintly but saying nothing.

Everyone walked together toward the outskirts of Lishan City.

The Grand Elder and the Wuxing Sect elders led the way ahead.

Though blood seas loomed above and sword qi filled the air.

Inside Lishan City, everything was crimson, demonic energy seeping everywhere.

Yet along this path, there was no wind, no waves.

No demonic cultivators, no killing intent, no danger.

Just as Mr. Zhuang had said—it was a path to life.

The Grand Elder found it hard to believe, yet also felt immense relief; he sighed inwardly:

"Mr. Zhuang is truly a master—he has done the Wuxing Sect a great favor…"

As the group walked, moments passed, and before them stood the great gate of Lishan City.

Passing through the gate meant leaving Lishan City.

It meant leaving this place of chaos, this hell.

The Grand Elder exhaled in relief.

But as he looked up, that breath he had just released surged back into his chest.

A chilling dread rose in his heart.

Ahead of them, the city gate had suddenly been engulfed by a sea of blood, blocking their path.

Upon the gate stood a group of bizarrely shaped cultivators.

In the center, a man in a black robe, white-haired yet youthful-faced, with deep, sinister eyes.

It was Xuan Mo Lao Zu!

On either side of him stood a withered elder bearing a demonic sword case, a pale, beardless youth whose face resembled an exquisitely crafted corpse mask, and a giant with fangs and blood-red eyes.

Behind these four stood a crowd of demonic cultivators, radiating foul energy, all at least Foundation Establishment.

The Grand Elder's eyes widened in terror, his heart and gall shattered.

All the Wuxing Sect cultivators turned ashen-faced.

Xuan Sanren smiled with a sinister softness: "Beneath the Blood Banner, the vengeful souls and hungry ghosts cannot transcend—no fragment of a spirit shall remain. How could I possibly let you go?"

"The Dao Court enforces strict rules—I haven't sacked a city in centuries…"

"Today's opportunity is rare; let me feast…"

…

The Grand Elder's heart grew bleak.

A Nascent Soul-level demonic elder!

The Wuxing Sect is doomed!

His face twisted in anguish as he opened his mouth to speak—when suddenly, Xuan Sanren's sinister smile faded, as if he had seen something, his expression turning solemn.

The Grand Elder followed Xuan Sanren's gaze and saw, not far to the west, atop a rooftop, an old man with a withered face, his body like a dead tree.

It was the unfathomable old man by Mr. Zhuang's side, known as "Kui Lao."

A flicker of hope rose in the Grand Elder's heart.

Xuan Sanren stared at Kui Lao, his face like stone, and bowed respectfully:

"Who are you, noble one?"

Kui Lao glanced at him coldly: "You are not worthy to know my name. I spare your life—go."

Xuan Sanren, furious, sneered and prepared to strike—then froze, as if recalling something, his expression drastically changed, and he cried out:

"You are…"

Kui Lao's gaze turned icy and sharp.

Xuan Sanren quickly fell silent, trembling with fear and daring not to speak.

He suppressed his dread, his face quivering, and bowed to the Puppet Elder before his figure gradually faded from atop the city gate and vanished.

All the demonic cultivators behind Xuan Sanren were also stunned, their hearts shaken:

"Just who is this old man?"

"Even Xuan Sanren must yield to him?"

But none dared to ask aloud.

They feared offending the mysterious old man, and feared provoking Xuan Sanren's wrath.

Xuan Sanren dared not block him; they dared even less—so all the demonic cultivators had no choice but to withdraw.

The demonic cultivators retreated in droves.

The Grand Elder exhaled in relief, gazing at the Puppet Elder and bowing from afar.

All the Wuxing Sect cultivators also grew solemn, bowing to the Puppet Elder.

The Puppet Elder lightly tapped his finger, and a jet-black fireball shot forth.

The great gate of Shancheng shattered; the demonic qi was utterly burned away, the blood banner torn open with a gaping hole, and the sea of blood seemed ripped apart, revealing an opening.

"Go."

The Puppet Elder spoke only this one word, then closed his eyes again to rest.

The Grand Elder felt profound gratitude, bowed once more from afar, glanced back, waved his hand, and led the Wuxing Sect disciples through the opening the Puppet Elder had made, walking out of Shancheng…

Mo Hua also glanced at the Puppet Elder, unable to help murmuring:

"Grandpa Puppet…"

The Puppet Elder seemed to hear Mo Hua's voice; slowly he opened his eyes, looked at Mo Hua, and a faint smile curled at his lips.

This was the first time Mo Hua had ever seen the Puppet Elder smile.

Like the smile of a puppet.

Though stiff, though oddly out of place, it was gentle.

On Mo Hua's ear, the Puppet Elder's hoarse, kind voice echoed:

"I came to see you off…"

Mo Hua's nose grew sharp with emotion; he waved hard, bidding farewell to the Puppet Elder.

The Puppet Elder "smiled" again, then whispered: "Go now…"

"Yes!"

Mo Hua nodded, cast one last look at the Puppet Elder, then reluctantly tore his gaze away and walked toward the city's outskirts.

The Puppet Elder watched Mo Hua's small back recede, feeling a pang of regret.

What a pity…

He would never get to eat the pine nuts this child roasted for him…

Nor would he ever again have the chance to guide him in spells, or play chess with him…

Then he scoffed at himself:

"Even my Dao heart has begun to waver…"

The Puppet Elder shook his head, closed his eyes once more, and sat motionless, withered.

…

And Mo Hua kept walking, passing through the city gate, leaving Shancheng, leaving the blood-sea-shrouded, demonic-qi-filled, perilous and murderous Shancheng.

He also left the Shancheng where his master dwelled…

When Mo Hua looked back once more.

The Soul-Refining Blood Banner was complete, having utterly obscured the entire Shancheng.

Before his eyes: a raging sea of blood, grotesque demonic swords, and a sky thick with bloody sword qi.

Mo Hua etched every detail into his heart, his gaze chilling.

"Daring to scheme against my master…"

One day, I will slaughter every last one of you demonic fiends, tear apart this soul banner, crush these demonic swords into dust, and obliterate the entire demonic Dao's fate and karmic threads…

All you Profound Demon Ancestors, all you Golden Core demonic cultivators, all you demonic treasures…

You'll all wait…

…

At this moment, Xuan Sanren in Shancheng had just recovered from the Puppet Elder's intimidation when another jolt of dread struck him.

He immediately pulled from his robe a bone compass.

Within the compass was sealed a lock, soaked in black blood, inscribed with ancient, crude array patterns, and at its center embedded a demonic eye, fierce and unceasingly blinking.

This was the demonic Dao's ultimate treasure of fate: the Dark Dao Heaven's Secrets Lock.

Xuan Sanren frowned:

"Just now… this Tianji Lock trembled?"

"What does it mean?"

"What is it afraid of?"

"What could possibly frighten it?"

Xuan Sanren bit his finger, wiped the blood across his forehead, leaving a crimson streak that writhed on its own; his spiritual sense grew sharper.

He formed a hand seal, carefully calculating—after a long while, his face remained confused.

He could calculate nothing…

A complete mystery.

But faintly, there seemed to be a hint of ill omen.

Like having accidentally released a batch of fish fry into the river.

Yet among those fry, there appeared to be a small, ferocious "crocodile."

But upon closer inspection, the river stretched vast and endless, waves glinting faintly, all blurred and indistinct—nothing could be seen.

Xuan Sanren stared blankly, then shook his head. "An illusion…."

What are the odds…

…

Dozens of li beyond Shancheng, a forked road appeared.

Mo Hua and the Wuxing Sect members were to part ways here.

The Grand Elder glanced at Mo Hua, his expression complex.

The true legacy of the Wuxing Sect lies within this child.

And the Wuxing Sect's future fortune may also lie within this child.

Although he did not know what the Wuxing Sect's true legacy was, nor what its future fortune would be, Zhuang Mr. had told him this, and he could only believe it.

But…

Whether the Wuxing Sect will still have such fortune in the future is uncertain…

The sect has suffered this calamity; morale is shattered.

In the future, they will live as dependents under others' roofs—surely not easy.

These disciples will likely leave one by one.

How many will remain in the end is even harder to say.

If I live on, perhaps it will be better—I am a Jin Dan cultivator after all—but what of a hundred years, two hundred years from now? If I die and the Wuxing Sect has no successor, will it vanish from the cultivation world's history…

The Grand Elder sighed, deeply troubled.

He looked at Mo Hua, bowed, and said: "Young Master, take care!"

Mo Hua also bowed and replied: "Grand Elder, preserve yourself!"

"I hope we may meet again someday…"

The Grand Elder sighed inwardly, then bowed once more to Mo Hua, before leading the Wuxing Sect members, in a grand procession, onto the uncertain road ahead…

…

Mo Hua, meanwhile, walked down the other path.

It was a wide mountain road.

Da Bai pulled the cart; seeing Mo Hua seemed downcast, he affectionately nudged his head against Mo Hua, as if trying to comfort him.

Mo Hua also hugged Da Bai, but his expression remained somewhat gloomy.

Bai Zisheng and Bai Zixi were also saddened.

As they walked, Bai Zisheng suddenly asked Xue Yi: "Xue Yi, can you find Mother and ask her to save Master?"

Xue Yi replied bitterly: "Someone of Zhuang Mr.'s realm is involved in matters far beyond our ability to interfere…"

"Even Lady, many things are beyond her power to change."

Moreover, Lady… is herself plotting against Zhuang Mr. …

Xue Yi did not say this aloud.

Bai Zisheng grew dejected.

Bai Zixi asked: "Xue Yi, where are we going now?"

Xue Yi pondered, then said: "First, meet Lady—she is worried about your safety. After that, we should return to the Bai Clan…"

"Return to the Bai Clan…"

Bai Zixi murmured, glancing involuntarily at Mo Hua.

Bai Zisheng suddenly remembered something; his melancholy lessened slightly. He looked at Mo Hua and asked:

"Younger brother, will you come back to the Bai Clan with us?"

"The Bai Clan?" Mo Hua froze.

"Yes," Bai Zisheng nodded. "Come with me to the Bai Clan. I'll protect you—you won't have to worry about cultivation. You'll have access to legacies, arrays, everything…"

"Though it's nowhere near as good as Master's, it's still quite good."

Mo Hua remained silent.

He turned back, gazing once more at Shancheng.

He still wanted to see his Master.

But he couldn't…

Jin Dan, Liu Yuhua…

This level of cultivation was far beyond his reach.

He was merely a Qi Condensation cultivator…

Mo Hua sighed dejectedly, hesitated a moment, then said: "I want to return to Tongxiancheng, to see my parents…"

He had been away from home a long time; he wanted to go back.

"That's fine," Bai Zisheng nodded. "I want to go back too, to see Uncle Mo and Aunt Liu. Then, after that, you can come with me to the Bai Clan…"

"Your talent is so high, your array studies so advanced—even in the Bai Clan, no one would dare look down on you…"

Mo Hua hesitated. "But… that wouldn't be right…"

He wasn't part of the Bai Clan…

Bai Zisheng frowned. "What's wrong with that? You're my junior brother. You're family. As your senior brother, it's my duty to look after you!"

"At the Bai family, anyone who looks down on you is looking down on me! Anyone who bullies you is bullying me! I'll knock out their front teeth!"

Mo Hua was moved inside, but still shook his head.

Bai Zisheng said, "No rush—take your time to think."

Bai Zi Xi glanced at Mo Hua, her voice clear and decisive:

"At the Bai family, no one dares bully you!"

Mo Hua blinked slightly, then smiled: "Thank you, Senior Sister..."

Mo Hua's smile was like a clear spring, pure and transparent, gently flowing through his heart.

Bai Zi Xi subtly turned her gaze away.

Xue Yi saw it all, her eyes holding both relief and tenderness, yet also a trace of sorrow.

Some beauties are simple and pure.

But this cultivation world is cold and cruel...

Mo Hua still shook his head. "I'll go back and see my parents first, then decide..."

He hadn't yet figured out what came after.

To establish his Foundation, he must unravel the Mi Tian Great Array.

This array is hard to solve.

It might take one or two years—or perhaps ten or twenty...

But no matter what, he must unravel the array, then step by step, as his master instructed, refine his spiritual sense to its utmost limit, and with supreme spiritual sense, attain the Great Dao!

This process will surely be difficult, and surely arduous.

He still harbors many secrets...

Though he hated to leave Little Brother and Little Sister, the Bai family... might not be a good place to go...

The Dali Mountain Province is vast.

Beyond Lishan City lies the endless, rolling Dali Mountains, layered peaks and ridges, winding mountain paths.

Mo Hua and his group walked along the mountain trails, growing ever farther from Lishan City.

The mountains gleamed like jade, clouds rose in radiant hues.

The magnificent scenery softened the sorrow of parting, yet left behind boundless melancholy.

All three of Mo Hua's hearts felt hollow.

After several days, Xue Yi frowned.

Bai Zisheng asked, "Xue Yi, what's wrong?"

Xue Yi pondered a moment, then shook her head. "Nothing."

After another five or six days, Xue Yi's expression grew increasingly solemn.

Now all of them sensed something was amiss.

Bai Zi Xi said, "Xue Yi, what's happened?"

Xue Yi hesitated, then spoke honestly:

"Ten days ago, I sent a jade slip to Lady, explaining everything—but even after all this time, the message never reached her. It seems not just Lishan City, but the entire Dali Mountains, have had their heavenly patterns sealed and all communication cut off..."

Their expressions all turned solemn.

Mo Hua looked up and indeed felt the sky was hazy—he could see the heavens, yet could not "see" the true heavens.

As if something had sealed them off.

"Xue Yi, what's covering the sky?" Mo Hua asked.

Xue Yi frowned. "Possibly... the Ming Dao Heavenly Pattern Lock..."

"Heavenly Pattern Lock?"

"Yes." Xue Yi nodded. "A Heavenly Pattern Lock is a type of heavenly artifact—it can conceal heavenly patterns, lock fate and cause, even sever communication, making other cultivators unable to see, sense, or calculate..."

"Both orthodox and demonic sects possess such artifacts."

"But to seal heavenly patterns over such a vast area—cutting off the entire Dali Mountains—such an artifact must be extraordinary. It's very likely one of the demonic sect's supreme treasures: the Ming Dao Heavenly Pattern Lock..."

"Demonic supreme treasure: Ming Dao Heavenly Pattern Lock..."

Mo Hua nodded, silently memorizing the name.

"What do we do now?" Bai Zisheng asked.

"Keep moving outward—leave the Dali Mountains..."

Xue Yi frowned, though her expression remained deeply solemn.

After several more days, just as they were about to leave the Dali Mountains, a group of cultivators suddenly appeared before them.

This group appeared without warning, yet seemed to have been waiting there for a long time.

Some wore black robes, others blood-red robes, each differing in appearance.

There was a gaunt Daoist Priest with half his face scarred by fire; a fat monk with smiling, half-closed eyes; a seductive female cultivator with lips like fresh blood and fangs bared; and a corpse-handler carrying a corpse...

These dozen or so individuals exuded a sinister, thick, yet restrained aura.

They were all, unmistakably, Golden Core stage demonic cultivators!

Among the crowd, the only one Mo Hua recognized was a cultivation expert at the late Foundation Establishment stage, wearing a golden crown and a five-colored Daoist robe.

He was none other than the former sect leader of the Wuxing Sect—Liao Tiande.

Once a sect leader, he now bowed low, his face full of obsequious smiles.

Liao Tiande pointed at Mo Hua and the others toward a young man clad in blood-red finery, strikingly handsome, with a strange blood-red mark between his brows:

"Holy Son, these people are the direct disciples of Master Zhuang..."

(End of Chapter)