Chapter 579

Mo Hua exclaimed excitedly: "Spiritual sense forming a sword? How is it done? What does the sword look like? How do you control it with spiritual sense?"

Huang Shanjun's expression was complex. "How would I know…"

I'm the one who got killed by 'Spiritual Sense Forming a Sword,' not the one who used it to kill others…

Mo Hua added: "So, is 'Spiritual Sense Forming a Sword' really powerful?"

Huang Shanjun nodded. "Just look at me now, reduced to this pitiful state after being slain—that's how powerful it is…"

Mo Hua glanced at Huang Shanjun, slightly skeptical. "You don't seem that powerful…"

How does that prove 'Spiritual Sense Forming a Sword' is powerful?

Huang Shanjun flushed with shame and anger. "That was then, this is now!"

"Back then! I was Huang Shanjun! Every peak in this range answered to me!"

"But I made a misstep, gave in to evil, lost all my cultivation, and ended up like this—defeated by you, a tiger fallen onto flat ground, bullied by..."

Mo Hua frowned, his gaze turning dangerous.

Huang Shanjun immediately swallowed the three words: "bullied by a 'dog'."

It wasn't quite right to say "a tiger fallen onto flat ground, bullied by a dog…"

This young cultivator is no ordinary force—he's at least a 'little tiger,' and a 'little vicious tiger' at that…

A 'man-eating' vicious tiger…

Better not provoke him if you can help it…

Mo Hua still didn't fully believe it. "You were really that powerful before?"

"Naturally…"

Mo Hua mused: "This is Qianzhou, a second-rank small state. Even if you were strong, you were just a second-rank mountain god—how powerful could you possibly be?"

"You wouldn't understand… Back when I…"

Huang Shanjun's face was long and proud, but halfway through, he abruptly fell silent, forcing a embarrassed laugh:

"... I was just a second-rank little mountain god…"

Mo Hua eyed him suspiciously.

Huang Shanjun felt guilty under Mo Hua's stare, lifting his eyes to the sky as if nothing had happened.

Mo Hua thought there was something deeply wrong with it, but since it had submitted, he didn't want to go too far—and after all, it was still a mountain god; he couldn't be too disrespectful.

Mo Hua was still more preoccupied with 'Spiritual Sense Forming a Sword'…

"What does a sword cultivator who can form spiritual sense into a sword look like? What's his name? Do you know?"

Huang Shanjun shook his head. "I don't know. I only remember he wore white robes, floating like an immortal, and that terrifying sword intent—but I didn't dare look closely at his face, and I never dared ask his name…"

"Which sect or clan did he belong to?"

Huang Shanjun shook his head again.

Mo Hua sighed helplessly, glancing at Huang Shanjun with disdain. "How can you know nothing?"

Huang Shanjun was equally helpless.

What could I do?

I was cut down by one sword—I fled from him in terror, how could I dare ask questions?

"White-robed sword cultivator, slaying an evil mountain god…"

Mo Hua could only memorize this clue, and after joining Ru Sect, he'd find a way to investigate.

See if he could uncover who used 'Spiritual Sense Forming a Sword,' find the method to master it, and learn how to project spiritual sense and manifest it as a sword…

Then, when encountering other evil spirits or spiritual entities like Huang Shanjun, he could form a sword from his spiritual sense outside his dantian and cut them down in one strike…

Mo Hua muttered silently to himself.

Huang Shanjun immediately shivered.

He didn't know what the little cultivator was plotting in that tiny head of his, but he didn't need to think—he knew it couldn't be good, and likely something terrifying…

Otherwise, his neck wouldn't feel so cold…

"Little Mr. …" Huang Shanjun forced a smile, overly kind and almost fawning. "The mountain wind is chilly—please rest early. Tomorrow morning, you'll need to continue your journey…"

He wanted to get rid of this little Xiaozu Sect member as soon as possible…

"I'm not tired!" Mo Hua said.

He had a stele in his spiritual sea—he didn't feel sleepy even without sleep.

Huang Shanjun felt miserable.

Little Xiaozu Sect, just sleep a little, will you?

If you're not tired, this long night is going to be unbearable for me…

Mo Hua had many other things on his mind.

For example: how does one become a mountain god? What is good fortune?

If a mountain god gives rise to evil, does it become an evil god? Why must it consume incense offerings? Why must it be worshipped?

And so on and so forth…

Dawn was still far off, and Mo Hua wanted to keep questioning Huang Shanjun one by one—but just as he opened his mouth, he froze, his gaze turning toward the door.

Huang Shanjun, seeing Mo Hua's sudden stillness, was surprised.

A moment later, he too was stunned.

"Someone's coming outside…"

Mo Hua nodded.

Huang Shanjun's expression turned bewildered.

He now understood—this young cultivator's spiritual sense must be extraordinary.

In his own mountain domain, he sensed the rustle of wind and grass even before himself.

"We need to hide…"

Huang Shanjun glanced timidly at Mo Hua, seeking Mo Hua's approval.

Mo Hua nodded, and only then did Huang Shanjun exhale in relief, transforming into a wisp of white smoke that drifted gently into the mountain god statue.

Mo Hua erased the warm-fire array on the ground, then activated the Flowing Water Step, walking vertically up the wall and onto the rafters, hiding behind the massive but half-broken Liang Mu, and activated a concealment technique to hide properly.

Soon after, faint footsteps sounded outside the temple.

Though muffled, in the silent mountain night—and especially under Mo Hua's perception—they were clearly audible.

Two unfamiliar cultivators hid outside the temple door, crouching low, peering inside while releasing their spiritual senses to scan the area, then lowered their guard and called to those behind:

"Big brother, there's no one inside the temple…"

Voices followed from behind.

"It's too late, this damn path is too hard…"

"We've been tired for days…"

"Let's rest inside the temple…"

"May Huang Shanjun protect us…"

"Your head's on your own shoulders, your life's in your own hands—what good is Huang Shanjun's protection?!"

…

A group of people chattered as they entered the ruined temple.

Through the gap in the Liang Mu, Mo Hua peered by moonlight and saw the ruined temple now crowded with over a dozen newcomers.

Most were Foundation Establishment cultivators.

Some carried knives, others swords, and a few pushed mountain carts laden with storage boxes whose contents were unknown.

The lead cultivator wore a green robe, carried a sword, and was of middle age, appearing refined and scholarly.

He seemed to be the group's leader.

Though also at Foundation Establishment, his cultivation was clearly deeper, and his steps bore clear discipline.

Mo Hua heard others call him "Jiang Laoda."

Jiang Laoda entered the temple, glanced around, and nodded:

"We've traveled day and night—everyone's exhausted. Rest here tonight; we'll hit the road again at dawn. Deliver the goods, and we'll all earn some Spirit Stones, live a little easier…"

His voice was gentle and cultured.

The other cultivators nodded, set down their luggage, and sat cross-legged on clean spots inside the temple.

Some took out dried rations to eat, others drank to relieve fatigue, and a few, utterly exhausted, collapsed and slept.

A few others whispered among themselves, and Mo Hua strained his ears to listen.

"Big brother, how many more days…?"

"Three or four days' journey…"

"How much can we make?"

"Don't think too much—just take what's in hand…"

"The others…"

"It's just us now…"

…

They chatted for a long while.

Mo Hua listened, puzzled, unsure what they were discussing; he was about to listen closer when Jiang Laoda's expression suddenly changed.

"Wrong!"

The other cultivators looked startled.

"Big brother, what's wrong?"

"What happened?"

Jiang Laoda stood, slowly scanned the surroundings, his gaze sharpening: "Someone is here!"

Mo Hua was startled.

The others in the ruined temple were even more alarmed, leaping to their feet, releasing their spiritual senses in overlapping sweeps, then frowning.

"Big brother, there's no one…"

Jiang Laoda wiped his hand across the ground, his eyes alert: "The ground is still warm—clearly, a cultivator took warmth here not long ago…"

He looked around further and found the leftover peel of a mountain sweet potato.

He pinched the peel, his expression puzzled.

Suddenly someone cried out: "Big brother, look!"

Jiang Laoda immediately walked over; following the man's gesture, he saw chaotic, crisscrossed patterns on the ground—as if freshly erased…

Jiang Laoda's heart jolted: "This is… an array?!"

His gentle gaze instantly turned sharp; he barked: "Everyone, on guard!"

All cultivators present lost their drowsiness at once, drawing blades and swords, activating their spiritual energy, their expressions utterly solemn.

Yet after a moment, the ruined temple remained utterly silent.

Whether by sight or spiritual sense, they detected no trace whatsoever.

Someone hesitated: "Big brother, could you be mistaken…?"

Jiang Laoda frowned, thought for a moment, then shook his head:

"No—the array was just erased; the residual warmth proves someone was here in this ruined temple not long ago…"

"This is a desolate mountain, far from any road—only this broken temple remains. That person won't have gone far; he's probably hiding because he saw we're many."

"Or perhaps... he's lying in wait for us..."

The other cultivators all grew solemn.

"Boss, what do we do?"

Jiang Laoda pondered for a moment, then stared at the temple and called out loudly: "Whoever you are, friend, why not show yourself?"

"To meet is to be bound by fate..."

"We bear you no grudge, and we mean you no harm. Meeting here in the wilds—let's become friends..."

Jiang Laoda spoke politely, but Mo Hua remained unmoved.

Hearts are hidden behind ribs—he had no way of knowing whether this group was good or evil.

Jiang Laoda's lips wore thin; seeing no movement around him, his gaze turned cold and he spoke low:

"Friend, if you won't take the hint, don't blame me for being uncivilized..."

"I'll tear down this temple, smash this idol, and level this place to the ground—then see where you hide!"

Tear down the temple?

Mo Hua froze, looked down—and saw Huang Shanjun, residing within the idol, wearing a look of anger, yet helpless.

He was now fallen, utterly unable to oppose this band of Foundation Establishment cultivators.

If his temple were torn down and his clay form destroyed, his roots might truly be severed.

Mo Hua didn't care.

The mountain was vast, the night deep—even if they tore down the temple, he could still flee. But Huang Shanjun? He could flee the mountain god, but not the temple.

He still had many questions he wanted to ask this fallen mountain god.

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then withdrew his concealment technique and called out clearly:

"I'm coming out!"

Jiang Laoda froze at the sound—he had assumed that anyone daring to settle here in the dark, deep mountain must be a seasoned cultivator accustomed to night travel.

But why did this voice sound so young?

Before he could recover, a small cultivator leapt down from the rafters: a petite frame, a handsome face, utterly innocent.

Jiang Laoda stared, then a chill ran through him—he couldn't help asking:

"Are you human... or a ghost?"

Mo Hua rolled his eyes. "You're the ghost?"

Jiang Laoda saw Mo Hua's voice and appearance—lively, vivid—clearly not a ghost, but a living little cultivator. He exhaled slightly in relief.

But then he frowned. "You're alone?"

Mo Hua naturally wouldn't admit he was alone—he said:

"I got separated from my master, senior brother, and senior sister. I'm just resting here temporarily in the broken temple—I'll find them tomorrow."

He has a sect...

Jiang Laoda frowned slightly, but didn't dwell on it.

Yet one thing puzzled him deeply—he spoke low:

"When we entered, why didn't we sense you?"

Mo Hua replied confidently:

"How should I know?"

"If you didn't sense me, shouldn't you look for the reason in yourselves?"

"Is your cultivation too low? Is your spiritual sense too weak? Are you not alert enough?"

"What does that have to do with a child like me?"

The group's faces flushed with shame and anger at Mo Hua's words—but they seemed unable to refute him.

They could only... blame themselves for their incompetence...

They couldn't possibly blame the child for hiding well...

Seeing their "self-awareness," Mo Hua nodded slightly.

A big man leaned close to Jiang Laoda, lips barely moving, whispering in a thread-thin voice:

"What do we do?"

"Should we...?"

The big man's gaze turned cold; he formed his fingers into a knife.

His motion was slight, his voice faint—but Mo Hua's spiritual sense was strong; he heard it all, yet pretended not to.

Jiang Laoda spoke low:

"Not yet—let's see how things develop..."

He couldn't fathom this little cultivator's true nature, couldn't discern the boy's identity.

Jiang Laoda frowned in thought, then his eyes flickered—he asked:

"Young brother, did you draw the array inside this temple?"

The Warm Fire Array...

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then nodded. "I drew it!"

Jiang Laoda was surprised—and more than that, delighted.

"You can draw arrays?!"

"Hmm..."

Jiang Laoda's expression immediately softened, and a warm smile appeared on his face.

Young cultivator…

Can draw arrays…

Then the price wouldn't be ordinary…

"Put away your blades, don't startle the young brother…" Jiang Laoda ordered, then looked at Mo Hua, his voice as gentle as spring rain melting snow.

"We are legitimate merchants passing through this area; afraid of being robbed and losing both goods and lives, we were overly cautious—please don't take offense, young brother…"

Mo Hua nodded, indicating he didn't mind.

But inside, he sneered.

Legitimate merchants? He'd seen plenty—who are you trying to fool…

Jiang Laoda invited Mo Hua to sit, then took out dried rations and wild fruits to offer him.

Mo Hua didn't eat.

Jiang Laoda didn't mind, and asked gently: "Young brother, so young, yet able to draw an array of this caliber—truly remarkable!"

This caliber? The Warm Fire Array's caliber?

His flattery missed its mark; Mo Hua merely replied indifferently:

"It's nothing special…"

Jiang Laoda probed further: "Then, young brother, can you draw a first-grade array?"

Mo Hua nodded. "Sort of…"

Jiang Laoda was overjoyed. "Young brother, your future is boundless!"

Then he raised his cup and said earnestly: "I'll drink one myself, to apologize for my earlier rudeness and impertinence!"

Jiang Laoda drained the cup in one gulp.

Mo Hua replied generously: "No problem, I don't hold it against you."

Jiang Laoda said more flattering words, then shifted his gaze slightly and asked softly: "May I ask, young brother, where is your master from?"

"My master forbids me from saying…" Mo Hua replied. "But my master is incredibly powerful—he can draw third-grade arrays effortlessly…"

"My senior uncle is even more powerful, but I can't tell you about him…"

Jiang Laoda smiled, silently pondering.

A Golden Core stage master…

A bit low.

Has array talent, but mediocre-to-poor lineage… Can't extort him—better find another way to sell him…

Jiang Laoda made up his mind, then suddenly slapped his forehead in surprise:

"Your master…"

"On my way here, I met a high elder who said he was searching for his disciple—he described him as exceptionally gifted, deeply skilled in arrays. Judging by you, they sound very similar…"

"That high elder might very well be your master!"

Mo Hua watched him perform silently, expressionless:

"Are my senior brothers and sisters there too?"

Jiang Laoda said: "Yes, beside that high elder are a male and female disciple, both distinguished, truly outstanding talents…"

Mo Hua feigned "delight," his tone flat:

"Oh, that's wonderful—they're exactly my master, my senior sister, and my senior brother!"

Jiang Laoda found Mo Hua's tone odd, but guilt clouded his mind, and he didn't notice—instead, he sighed:

"It's a pity, though—they took the wrong path…"

"Took the wrong path?" Mo Hua feigned "surprise."

"Yes," Jiang Laoda said regretfully. "They headed toward Qingzhou City, took a detour—you won't meet them if you wait here in the mountains."

Mo Hua's expression turned despondent.

Jiang Laoda looked at Mo Hua and made his judgment.

This child seems clever and cautious enough, but he's still a child, inexperienced, and when it comes to his master, concern clouds his judgment.

Lying to him won't be hard to manipulate…

Jiang Laoda said: "Your master is a high elder—we should form a good connection. How about this: we take you to find your master? It's on our way to Qingzhou City anyway…"

"Really?" Mo Hua asked hopefully.

"Of course," Jiang Laoda smiled warmly.

Mo Hua's eyes lit up with delight. "That's wonderful—thank you, big brothers!"

Mo Hua's gaze was clear and pure, as lively as a young deer.

Jiang Laoda relaxed, and said:

"It's getting late. Let's rest now; tomorrow morning, we'll take you to find your master."

"Alright!"

Mo Hua nodded with eager anticipation.

The group rested inside the ruined temple.

Mo Hua slept quietly, his black eyelashes still, his breathing even, like an ordinary child.

Jiang Laoda sat near the temple entrance, far from him, whispering to several cultivators.

"Boss, what are we doing with this kid?"

"He can draw arrays—worth a good price…"

One cultivator said: "His spiritual root is too poor—kind of useless…"

Jiang Laoda said: "What do you know? One beauty hides a hundred flaws—if you know formations, that's enough. This isn't joining a sect; don't be picky…"

"Before we came, Mr. calculated it—we're not to stir up trouble…"

Someone voiced concern.

"Just this one time, it's fine. One is selling, two is also selling…" Jiang Laoda whispered, "After this job, it won't be easy to do again. If we can squeeze out more profit, we should."

"Besides, Qianzhou is vast, with power structures tangled and complex."

"A Golden Core stage cultivator's lineage doesn't matter much…"

"If a person goes missing, it's like a stone sinking into the sea—you'll never find them again…"

…

Jiang Laoda and the others spoke in low tones.

Mo Hua, pretending to be asleep, quietly opened one eye and understood the gist.

These cultivators were "human traffickers"!

They specialized in kidnapping and selling cultivators.

They looked friendly, but their consciences were rotten to the core!

In Qianzhou, a land teeming with sects where students come to learn, most victims are young cultivators like himself.

Either they extort, or they sell them.

Young cultivators with good spiritual roots and talent can earn a fortune in Spirit Stones, whether through extortion or sale.

Some cultivators have turned to the demonic path, using the flesh, qi seas, and spiritual roots of cultivators as ingredients for alchemical pills.

The Qian family's ancestral patriarch used human lives to brew the "Soul-Transferring and Yuan-Transforming Pill."

Young cultivators with excellent talent and pure bloodlines are undoubtedly the best "pill ingredients."

Selling them to demonic cultivators also brings a fortune.

After thinking it over, Mo Hua slowly closed his eyes again and continued feigning sleep.

The barren mountain was deep in night, silent and still.

Until dawn.

"Little brother, little brother…"

Someone woke Mo Hua up.

Mo Hua groggily "awoke," rubbing his eyes with his small hands.

Jiang Laoda smiled warmly and said kindly: "It's dawn—we must be on our way. We'll take you to find your master…"

Find his master…

Mo Hua felt a surge of confusion, his emotions complicated, yet he still smiled and said: "Alright!"

Everyone packed their belongings and prepared to depart.

At that moment, a low voice came from the clay statue:

"Little Mr., be careful—they're not good people…"

It was a spiritual thought; only Mo Hua could hear it.

"I know…" Mo Hua nodded, then waved at the clay statue in the main hall of the ruined temple, "I'm leaving now. I'll come back to see you when I have time…"

The other cultivators stared, baffled.

But since Mo Hua was just a child, and children often act strangely, they dismissed it.

White smoke from the statue formed the face of Huang Shanjun.

It gave Mo Hua a sheepish smile.

But inside, it had no words to express its bitterness:

"Don't… don't come back to see me. I don't want to see you again…"

After everything was packed, Mo Hua followed Jiang Laoda and the others out of the ruined temple, walking toward Qingzhou City beneath the morning glow.

This was also the unavoidable route to Qianxuezhou, and Mo Hua happened to be heading that way too.

Huang Shanjun watched them leave silently, feeling uneasy.

"These dozen or so cultivators carry heavy karmic burdens—they're no good."

"Will this little cultivator be alright…?"

Huang Shanjun frowned, then suddenly froze.

These cultivators weren't good, but this little cultivator… didn't seem good either?

Whose little cultivator thinks about "eating" a mountain god?!

Huang Shanjun stared silently at Mo Hua, striding confidently right in the middle of the "human traffickers," unsure now—who should he worry about more?

(End of Chapter)