Chapter 552: Traveling Together

The morning sun rose.

Amidst the mountains and rivers of green hills and clear waters.

The sky was a deep, boundless blue; the forests stood lush as screens.

A small stream trickled gently.

Two figures walked, one ahead, one behind.

The man ahead was tall and thin, clad in an ill-fitting, blood-stained Daoist robe, his movements stiff and unnatural, like a puppet on strings.

The one behind was small of stature, with delicate features, stepping lightly.

These two were Guǐ Dàorén and Mo Hua.

They had walked through the night and into the morning.

Guǐ Dàorén walked slowly, as if he had no urgency.

Mo Hua had no choice but to follow at his pace, unhurried and steady.

The man he followed was Guǐ Dàorén…

Guǐ Dàorén was cruel and cunning.

Deeply calculating, skilled at manipulating hearts and minds.

The great demon Feng Xi of Xiancheng, the Dao Nie Corpse King of Nanyue City—all were the result of Guǐ Dàorén's schemes.

Just now, he had slaughtered twenty Jin Dan demonic cultivators using the "Seed of Demonic Heart" technique.

At first, Mo Hua had been tense and uneasy following him.

But after walking half a day and a night, he had grown numb, his mind at ease, gradually adapting.

He thought about it and decided he was probably safe for now.

Though he did not know Guǐ Dàorén's intentions, since the man wanted to take him to meet his master, he would surely not kill him before they reached his master.

And he likely would not implant the "Seed of Demonic Heart" in him either.

Once the "Seed of Demonic Heart" was planted, his master would surely notice—and realize Mo Hua was no longer his little disciple, leaving Guǐ Dàorén with no leverage.

Mo Hua exhaled softly.

At least before seeing his master, he would remain "unharmed."

What came after, however, was uncertain…

But first, he must see his master.

Mo Hua sighed again, deeply.

He wanted to see his master one more time; otherwise, he feared he might never see him again in this lifetime…

But he did not know what secrets his master carried, nor how many people or factions were plotting against him.

Now the Mo Sect had laid a killing trap.

Even the Liu Yuhua elders had intervened.

Jin Dan cultivators, once towering figures in his eyes, now sprouted like weeds everywhere.

His "uncle," Guǐ Dàorén, had used the "Seed of Demonic Heart" to cut down over twenty in one sweep.

Under such circumstances, Foundation Establishment cultivators were mere ants.

Not to mention he, a mere Qi Condensation cultivator.

Now demonic cultivators infested Dali Mountain; with his own strength, he could never return to Lishancheng, break the Soul-Refining Banner, enter the Five Elements Mountain Protection Array, or see his master.

Only by following Guǐ Dàorén could he slip inside.

Mo Hua nodded slightly.

Guǐ Dàorén wanted him to lead the way to find his master.

He, too, wanted this uncle to "protect" him so he could see his master one last time.

His uncle might kill him too.

But for now, as long as he stayed by his side, no one else could kill him.

After all, he was a Mo Sect "Daoist" who could raise Dao Nie…

Just thinking of seeing his master again,

Mo Hua's steps grew lighter.

Guǐ Dàorén, walking ahead, narrowed his eyes slightly.

He did not know what Mo Hua was thinking.

At first, his expression had been uneasy.

But after walking a while, he seemed to have figured something out—now he walked calmly, confidently, trailing behind him.

As if… he were just visiting him for a chat?

This brat… has guts…

Doesn't he know who I am?

Guǐ Dàorén said nothing, continuing to walk ahead as if alone.

Mo Hua walked behind, hands clasped behind his back.

As they walked, Mo Hua grew bored.

His "uncle" limped along—how painfully slow…

At this rate, they'd never reach Lishancheng before the Year of the Monkey.

Mo Hua wanted to ask, but dared not, afraid of angering his uncle.

Yet after walking further, he could no longer hold back—he stepped closer and whispered:

"Uncle, aren't you in a hurry?"

"Aren't you walking a bit too slowly…?"

"If we keep going like this, my master will be caught by those demonic fiends…"

"Aren't you going to walk faster?"

……

The Treacherous Daoist's steps faltered, but he said nothing, continuing forward.

Seeing no reaction, Mo Hua wasn't angry; he relaxed, his courage slightly bolstered.

"Probably I didn't ask the right question—so my uncle won't bother answering…"

Mo Hua then picked other questions to ask:

"Uncle, why are you going to find my master?"

"Uncle, do you and my master not get along?"

"Uncle, are Daoists really that powerful?"

"Uncle, does planting the Demon Seed in the Dao Heart always lead to death?"

"Uncle…"

……

Mo Hua chattered on, like a little gossip, never stopping.

The Treacherous Daoist finally couldn't bear it anymore; he stopped, turned, and his pitch-black pupils glanced at Mo Hua.

Mo Hua immediately fell silent.

For the rest of the journey, no one spoke; they passed through a small mountain village.

The village had few inhabitants; normally, it was home to poor, scattered cultivators who lived off spirit plants—remote and undisturbed.

On the right side of the road stood a small noodle shop.

Amid green mountains and clear waters, the scent of noodles drifted out.

Mo Hua stopped.

The Treacherous Daoist walked a few steps, noticed Mo Hua had halted, turned, and gazed at him with empty, cold eyes.

"I'm hungry—I can't walk anymore…" Mo Hua admitted honestly.

He had been walking for a full day and night.

He wasn't a body cultivator; his physical strength was weak. Throughout the journey, his tense mood had masked his fatigue.

Now that he'd relaxed, and the aroma reached him, his stomach growled loudly—he couldn't take another step.

The Treacherous Daoist looked at Mo Hua, his expression growing complex.

Kill him… but I can't kill him yet…

The Demon Seed in the Dao Heart… I can't plant it either…

If I don't let him eat, he won't be able to walk…

The Treacherous Daoist stood motionless for a long while; though he showed no expression or movement, he seemed, unmistakably, to sigh—then turned and walked toward the noodle shop.

Mo Hua's eyes lit up; he immediately beamed and followed.

The noodle shop was run by a married couple of Qi Condensation cultivators.

Their realms were low; they ran this roadside shop to make a living.

Mo Hua had already scanned them with his spiritual sense—this was truly just an ordinary noodle shop, and the couple were ordinary cultivators.

A few customers were present, mostly nearby scattered cultivators, no anomalies.

Mo Hua and the Treacherous Daoist entered.

The owner, plain-faced and dressed in coarse cloth, stepped forward with warm enthusiasm:

"Honored guests, what would you like to eat?"

He finished speaking and was about to glance at the Treacherous Daoist.

Mo Hua hurried forward, waved his small hand to draw the man's gaze away from the Treacherous Daoist, then pulled out two spirit stones, his voice crisp:

"Two bowls of noodles—hurry!"

Mo Hua had already calculated.

The spirit stones for noodles had to be paid by himself.

His uncle looked like he'd never treat him…

He dared not ask his uncle to pay…

His uncle was unpredictable.

If he angered him and planted the Demon Seed in the Dao Heart, killing everyone in this shop—that would be his own sin.

The owner, seeing the spirit stones, brightened—but then frowned:

"Young brother, two spirit stones are too much—two bowls of noodles don't cost this much…"

"It's fine…" Mo Hua waved his hand, "Just add more toppings."

The owner beamed, bowing and thanking him profusely.

Mo Hua watched the owner's expression, feeling a strange sense of reflection.

Two spirit stones meant nothing to him now—but for these lowly scattered cultivators, they might be a full day's earnings…

In this world, some possessed millions of spirit stones and squandered them freely.

Others lived each day in penny-pinching, calculating every coin…

Mo Hua sighed.

The Treacherous Daoist's expression shifted slightly; he glanced at Mo Hua in surprise.

Then the two sat down.

There were a few scattered diners in the shop.

Mo Hua deliberately chose a remote corner, using his small body to block the Weird Daoist, preventing the Weird Daoist from seeing others—and others from seeing the Weird Daoist.

The Weird Daoist's expression was indifferent, as if he didn't care at all.

These cultivators were merely ants; he paid them no mind.

Soon, the shopkeeper brought the noodles.

The noodles were plentiful, the toppings were plentiful, and there were even two slices of meat on top.

It didn't look like spirit meat—more like beast flesh, with a faint fishy, gamy odor, not too strong, not overcooked, but still edible.

It couldn't possibly compare to his mother's cooking.

But the flavor wasn't bad—the noodles were fragrant, the broth rich.

Mo Hua never picky about food, and he was starving, so he gripped the large bowl and slurped the steaming noodles.

After eating for a while, he looked up and noticed the Weird Daoist hadn't touched his chopsticks.

Mo Hua ate his noodles, pondering…

His "uncle," the Daoist who planted a demonic seed in another's body, was using someone else's form—technically, he was now a "dead man."

Dead men don't need to eat.

Mo Hua frowned and began pondering another question…

Uncle… where had he been hiding before?

Had he been following Master's trail all along?

When had he first calculated Master's location and begun laying his plans?

And…

His appearance at Dali Mountain had been far too coincidental…

When had he calculated the whereabouts of Young Master and Young Miss?

Mo Hua ate a few more noodles, then couldn't resist—he stole a glance at the Weird Daoist and whispered:

"Uncle…"

"At Dali Mountain, weren't you already watching from the side?"

"Watching as that Holy Son surrounded us."

"Only after Young Miss and Young Master shattered their Life-Extending Talismans and lost their self-defense, did you strike…"

"You couldn't handle the Life-Extending Talisman either, could you?"

…

As Mo Hua spoke, he nodded, convinced his deductions were reasonable.

The Weird Daoist finally couldn't hold back—he fixed his pitch-black eyes on Mo Hua and spoke his first words since the journey began:

"Eat your noodles."

His voice was flat, cold, and seemed slightly displeased…

"Oh."

Mo Hua obediently lowered his head and ate his noodles.

He didn't speak again until he finished every last noodle in the bowl.

Then he looked up, glanced at the Weird Daoist, then involuntarily stared at the Weird Daoist's untouched bowl of noodles, licking his lips.

Every grain of rice, every spoonful of porridge—think of how hard it was to come by.

Mustn't waste it.

Mo Hua silently reached out his small hand, pulled the Weird Daoist's bowl to his own, then buried his face in it and slurped it down—huh-huh-huh.

For an instant, the Weird Daoist's previously blank expression froze.

His pitch-black eyes fixed on Mo Hua, filled with disbelief…

…

After finishing both bowls, the two resumed their journey.

Mo Hua was full, his belly round and swollen, so he walked ahead, strolling to digest.

The Weird Daoist followed behind, puzzled by Mo Hua's back.

This little thing… was strange…

He couldn't figure him out.

It seemed his younger brother had cast some technique, hidden some secret, concealed some karmic thread…

What secret had his younger brother hidden in this child?

What karmic thread had he concealed?

And why had he hidden this child so deeply, so thoroughly, keeping him entirely from his knowledge…

Had the child not stepped forward himself, he wouldn't have even realized his younger brother had taken on such a tiny disciple…

The Weird Daoist studied Mo Hua again, frowning.

His spiritual roots were poor, his physical body terrible.

No special bloodline.

His spiritual sense… though obscured by something, faint and blurry, was still passably decent.

Beyond that, he was clever and mischievous, and his actions truly were…

Unexpected…

With such talent, what had his younger brother seen in him?

Moreover, the most puzzling thing was…

He always felt that the child's aura was both unfamiliar and familiar…

He had never met the boy before, yet it felt as if he had already crossed paths with him many times, accumulated countless karmic ties…

A flicker of confusion passed through the Weird Daoist's hollow eyes.

What kind of dealings could he possibly have had with a mere Qi Condensation cultivator?

What kind of karmic ties could there possibly be?

The Weird Daoist stared at Mo Hua, his pupils darkening further.

"It doesn't matter…"

"When I meet my younger brother, everything will become clear…"

…

On the road outside Shancheng, the two continued walking.

They walked slowly, but steadily, inch by inch, drawing closer to Shancheng.

The closer they got to Shancheng, the heavier the demonic aura became.

Outside Shancheng, there were almost no local cultivators left.

Most were demonic cultivators.

Besides them, there were some unfamiliar figures dressed in lavish robes, wielding unique spiritual artifacts, practicing varied and highly refined, rare Daoist methods—cultivators from the various noble families and sects of the Dao Court.

These cultivators were certainly from afar.

Some might even have come directly from Daozhou, where the Central Dao Court resided.

Their numbers were vast, and their realms were high.

None were Qi Condensation; all were either Foundation Establishment or Jin Dan.

The entire Da Lishan had become a chessboard, and every cultivator still present here was merely a pawn.

Mo Hua frowned involuntarily.

"Could my master's secrets really be this immense?"

What exactly did they want to obtain from my master?

Mo Hua shook his head.

He knew nothing of any of this.

He remembered his master's warning:

"Your master… has a heavenly opportunity, and even greater, earth-shattering secrets… but I cannot pass them on to you, nor can I tell you anything about them."

"If I tell you, it will bring you catastrophic disaster."

"Even knowing them will bind you with karmic ties."

"So you must know nothing, and you must want to know nothing…"

Not knowing is fine.

As long as I can see my master…

Mo Hua thought silently to himself.

But after drawing near Shancheng, the journey became increasingly perilous.

The cultivators on the outskirts still showed restraint.

But the closer they got, the heavier the killing intent became.

Following the Weird Daoist, Mo Hua saw nothing but blood and carnage—countless cultivators dead and wounded in battle.

On the surface, most were Dao Court cultivators fighting against Mo Sect cultivators.

Behind the scenes, Mo Sect members also slaughtered each other with bloody, cruel methods.

Even among the Dao Court side, some sought to murder one another for profit or old grudges.

After killing, they would fake the scene and frame the demonic cultivators.

This was a scene he had never witnessed before.

The righteous were righteous, the demonic were demonic—but now, righteousness and demonic seemed no different at all…

Mo Hua shook his head in disbelief.

Human hearts were indeed complex…

And his own situation had grown precarious.

Because he was with the Weird Daoist.

The Weird Daoist's aura was dark and eerie—no need to look, he was clearly a demonic cultivator.

Mo Hua was a child; though he appeared innocent and pure, here in this sea of blood and carnage, walking alongside a strange-looking Daoist, he stood out as deeply abnormal.

Almost no one present, from either righteous or demonic factions, recognized Mo Hua.

He was merely a lowly Qi Condensation cultivator.

No one cared whether he was righteous or demonic, which side he stood on, or whether he lived or died.

So along the way, people repeatedly tried to kill him.

The righteous were somewhat better—they still observed some rules and wouldn't kill lightly.

But the demonic were different.

Some saw Mo Hua's pale, tender skin and wanted to eat him;

Some sensed something off about him and wanted to eliminate him at once;

Some saw he was a boy and wanted to use him to brew pills;

Even some shameless female demonic cultivators, seeing Mo Hua's handsome, adorable face, wanted to drain his essence…

Whenever this happened, Mo Hua would immediately hide behind the Weird Daoist, seeking his uncle's protection.

And the Weird Daoist accepted all who came.

Any cultivator who dared stand before him, regardless of sect or alignment, had his Dao heart seeded with demons, his mind shattered—either killing himself or slaughtering his comrades…

Mo Hua hid behind, watching.

These scenes were perhaps bloody, perhaps cruel.

But he was born a Demon Hunter; he had seen far bloodier scenes in his hunts, so he was not afraid.

Mo Hua watched as the Weird Daoist stood against the wind, his gaze dark and cold, not a single finger moving, yet playing these cruel or powerful demonic cultivators like toys until they died, slaughtered to the last…

No matter how many times he saw it, Mo Hua found it deeply shocking.

But as he watched, a question arose in him unbidden:

"This Dao Heart Seeding Demons… is incredibly powerful…"

"Can I learn it?"

Thank you to chanso, San Qing, Lei Dashu, Chen Ge, Er Ting Wei Xu, Ran Shao Yu Ci, basa, Guoguo from overseas, Fen Dageng de Xiao Bing, and zsytssk for their rewards~

(End of Chapter)