Chapter 627

Is this magic?

Mo Hua widened his eyes in astonishment.

It was simply a matter of circulating Qi along specific meridians and using spiritual awareness to propel the Qi outward, forming spells of different elements with power far beyond Mo Hua's expectations.

After a period of turmoil, the pond calmed again.

Only the mottled water stains along the shore and the charred, broken waterweeds remained as evidence of what had happened.

Old Puppet nodded. "Good."

Mo Hua scratched his head. "Grandpa Puppet, what should I practice next?"

"Practice this again."

"Practice this again?"

"Yes," said Old Puppet. "Do it a hundred times first. Get a feel for it."

"Feel what?" Mo Hua asked, puzzled.

"You wouldn't understand even if I told you. After you've done it a hundred times, you'll feel it yourself."

Mo Hua was thoroughly confused.

Old Puppet added, "It's like practicing arrays—you get better through repetition. The more you draw, the more you intuit things naturally, but these things can't be easily explained."

"Oh." Mo Hua understood a little and nodded.

"Can I practice here?"

Mo Hua asked hesitantly.

He couldn't practice at home—what if he burned the house down with a Fireball Spell?

Practicing alone in the mountains was also somewhat dangerous.

"No problem," said Old Puppet casually.

Mo Hua hesitated. "What if I damage the pond or these flowers and grasses? Is that okay?"

Old Puppet glanced at Mo Hua calmly, then swept his sleeve lightly.

Mo Hua didn't even know what had happened—only that in the blink of an eye, the water stains along the pond's edge vanished, the charred waterweeds restored themselves, and the fish resumed their leisurely swimming.

As if nothing had ever occurred, as if Mo Hua had never cast the Fireball Spell.

Mo Hua stood frozen in place.

"No problem," said Old Puppet calmly.

In the following days, Mo Hua kept running over to Mr. Zhuang's place.

If Mr. Zhuang was awake, Mo Hua would go greet him and ask about his doubts; if Mr. Zhuang was asleep, Mo Hua would practice the Fireball Spell beside the bamboo grove near the pond.

Mo Hua had already understood the principle of the Fireball Spell, and after several days of practice, he had gained some grasp of its application.

Yet the spell's power, speed of casting, and accuracy of impact varied slightly each time.

As Old Puppet had said, these things required personal practice and gradual intuition to master fully—they couldn't be easily put into words.

These days, Mo Hua had been practicing the Fireball Spell by the pond every day.

One fireball after another exploded in the pond, stirring up the spring water, sending waterweeds flying everywhere, and sending the fish beneath scrambling in panic.

Fortunately, every day after Mo Hua left, Old Puppet restored the pond.

Otherwise, the pond's water would have long since been boiled dry by Mo Hua…

One day, as Mo Hua was practicing the Fireball Spell by the pond, he spotted a small head peering cautiously from afar.

"Bai Zisheng?"

Seeing only Mo Hua there, Bai Zisheng crept over curiously. "What are you playing at?"

"It's not play—I'm practicing magic," Mo Hua corrected him.

Bai Zisheng's eyes lit up. "You're learning magic? What spell? Show me one!"

Mo Hua cast the Fireball Spell again, blasting the pond.

Boom—the water splashed everywhere.

After watching, Bai Zisheng immediately lost interest and sneered:

"Just a Fireball Spell…"

Mo Hua objected. "What's wrong with a Fireball Spell?"

Bai Zisheng comforted him. "It's okay, I just thought you'd learn something powerful."

"Like what?"

"Like… oh right, your Qi is too low—you couldn't use it anyway," said Bai Zisheng.

Mo Hua gave him a withering look and said coolly, "Have you finished your lessons?"

"Not yet," Bai Zisheng instantly slumped. "I heard noises over here, so I sneaked over to check—now I have to go back soon."

Bai Zisheng asked again, "Aren't you disturbing Mr. Zhuang by practicing the Fireball Spell here?"

Mo Hua shook his head. "I asked Grandpa Puppet—he said no, Mr. Zhuang's place is far away and very quiet."

Bai Zisheng nodded, gazing at Mo Hua with a touch of envy. "Mr. Zhuang really treats you well…"

"Doesn't Mr. Zhuang treat you well too? And you have some connection with him, don't you?" Mo Hua asked, puzzled.

Bai Zisheng waved his hand. "You wouldn't understand…" He thought for a moment, then said no more.

He and Bai Zixi held deep reverence for Mr. Zhuang—though they would go to him with questions, they never disturbed him lightly beyond that.

To do what Mo Hua did—go to him with questions, even blast the pond with a Fireball Spell in his courtyard—they would never dare.

"Are you trying to scheme against him? That's why you're afraid of him."

Mo Hua eyed Bai Zisheng suspiciously.

Bai Zisheng sneered. "I'd need the ability first."

"That's true," Mo Hua nodded.

Bai Zixi asked curiously, "Did Guilao teach you this Fireball Technique?"

"Yes."

"Did Guilao teach you only the Fireball Technique?"

"You don't understand—what suits you is best."

Mo Hua imitated Guilao, adopting an air of seasoned experience.

Bai Zixi thought for a moment and nodded. "That's right."

Mo Hua asked in return, "Is Grandmaster Guilao very powerful?"

"Probably," Bai Zixi replied uncertainly.

"So you don't know either."

Bai Zixi chuckled awkwardly.

Mo Hua shooed him off: "Go do your lessons quickly—don't disturb me practicing my spells."

Bai Zixi didn't want to leave; lessons were too dull.

"You practice—I can give you some pointers."

"Pointers? You don't even know any spells," Mo Hua blinked.

Bai Zixi frowned: "Have you never eaten pork, but never seen pigs run? I train in martial arts, but I still know about powerful spells."

That was true—Bai family had deep ancestral traditions.

"Show me the Fireball Technique again," Bai Zixi said.

"Oh." Mo Hua cast the Fireball Technique once more.

The pond exploded again.

"Hmm... the power is a bit weak," Bai Zixi said.

"Is it because my Qi is too weak?"

"Not entirely. A spell's power depends on your proficiency—the more skilled you are, the stronger the spell. Even if your Qi consumption stays the same, if you master a spell completely, its power increases," Bai Zixi explained patiently.

Mo Hua nodded repeatedly. "Then what exactly does 'proficiency' mean?"

"Do you have the meridian chart for the Fireball Technique?"

Mo Hua opened the Fireball Technique's meridian chart.

Bai Zixi pointed at the chart and said:

"Simply put, it's the precision of Qi flow. If every time you channel Qi, it passes exactly through these meridians and acupoints, your spell's power will rise significantly."

"Of course, perfect precision isn't possible—people are people, not puppets. You can't hit it exactly right every time. Close enough is fine," Bai Zixi added.

Mo Hua suddenly understood and asked several more questions.

Bai Zixi, rarely getting a chance to show off to Mo Hua, beamed and gave detailed guidance for a long while.

Suddenly, a paper ball flew in from nowhere and struck Bai Zixi squarely on the head.

Mo Hua picked up the paper ball, opened it, and found a simple ink sketch of a small face.

The face had only a few lines and two dots, looking distinctly unhappy.

Bai Zixi rubbed his head, looked at the note, and exclaimed:

"Oh no—Zixi is angry. I told her I'd come visit you for a bit, but I ended up staying too long."

Bai Zixi jumped up in a hurry, tossed out, "Practice more on your own," and dashed off.

Mo Hua paused, then couldn't help smiling.

After that, Mo Hua followed Bai Zixi's advice, striving for precise Qi flow each time—and the Fireball Technique's power indeed grew stronger.

When Mo Hua completed one hundred repetitions, the Fireball Technique became quite proficient.

Mo Hua went to find Guilao. "Grandmaster Guilao, I've practiced one hundred times!"

Guilao nodded. "Have you learned it?"

"I have."

"Good," Guilao nodded. "Now I'll begin teaching you properly."

"Huh?"

Mo Hua stared. "Didn't you already teach me?"

Guilao said coolly:

"I haven't taught you anything. What's there to teach about the Fireball Technique?"

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