Chapter 687

Mo Hua didn't kill them, and used only low-level spells—not fatal ones—so although the Wang family cultivators looked horrific, they were still breathing.

In the dilapidated courtyard.

The Wang family cultivators fell to the ground one after another, wailing incessantly, completely stripped of their earlier arrogance, even daring not to raise their eyes to look at Mo Hua.

Mo Hua snorted coldly, boasting:

"Today, little master is in a good mood—I'll spare your dog lives. Next time I see you, I'll cut off your hands and feet with spells and dump you in the river to feed Wang Ba!"

Mo Hua's face radiated decadent arrogance, his aura overwhelming; the Wang family cultivators, cowed by his power, dared not speak.

After speaking, Mo Hua cast a cold glance at Old Yu Tou, his gaze defiant, his voice rising slightly:

"Old Yu Tou, I want this fish!"

"Keep all future fish reserved for me. If I find out you've sold 'my fish' to someone else…"

Mo Hua's young face curled into a wicked smile, "... then you'll never have another peaceful day in your life!"

Old Yu Tou stared blankly for a long while, then finally understood, quickly putting on a terrified expression: "Yes, yes, Young Master! Old Yu Tou dares not do it again—please don't kill me! My whole family depends on this old man's hard labor to survive…"

Seeing Old Yu Tou was "reasonable," Mo Hua nodded in satisfaction.

Then he turned his face coldly, sneering at the Wang steward: "What? Still not leaving? Waiting to die?"

The Wang steward glared with hatred, gritting his teeth:

"Young Master, please tell me…"

Mo Hua flicked his finger—a streak of Jin Guang shot through the air, instantly slicing across the Wang steward's cheek, drawing a trail of blood.

Mo Hua's face was icy, his gaze deep: "Tell you what? Do you even deserve to know?"

The Wang steward clutched his face, sweat beading on his forehead.

A cold, eerie spiritual sense locked onto him; the Wang steward could barely breathe.

He knew this "arrogant" young master's patience was nearly exhausted.

This Jin Guang had slashed his cheek—next time, it would aim for his head.

The Wang steward hurriedly kowtowed:

"Young Master, please calm down! We were blind to Taishan—we offended you! We're leaving right away!"

Without calling to the others, he scrambled up, fleeing like a stray dog.

The other Wang family cultivators, seeing this, struggled to their feet and followed, dusty and humiliated.

The courtyard fell silent.

Only after they were far away did Mo Hua go to help Old Yu Tou up.

Old Yu Tou's eyes were wet; he bowed his head deeply to Mo Hua: "Thank you, Young Master—thank you…"

Mo Hua helped him up and asked:

"Does the Wang family often bully you?"

Old Yu Tou sighed: "There's no real bullying or not—forced buying and selling, we're used to it…"

"In the past, we'd sometimes sell fish on credit."

"We'd give them the fish, then go collect payment—they'd delay, claiming their family business was struggling, their spirit stones tied up…"

"They lived in grand mansions, ate rare delicacies, wore silk brocade—but still couldn't spare a few spirit stones from poor folk like us…"

"Sometimes they outright refused to pay—fish delivered, spirit stones never returned. Though it didn't happen often…"

Old Yu Tou's face twisted in bitterness: "But I can't take the risk…"

"If they default, my eight thousand spirit stones… vanish completely, gone forever…"

"Even if they just delay, I can't afford it."

"My two grandsons have decent spiritual roots—they're at the age to join Ru Sect, need to strengthen their foundation, need connections, need to pay tuition…"

"All that requires a huge sum of spirit stones. If I delay any longer, their whole lives will be ruined."

Old Yu Tou's eyes were dull: "They'll just be stuck, like me, as poor fish cultivators for life…"

Mo Hua sighed silently.

"Give me this fish."

Mo Hua thought for a moment and said to Old Yu Tou.

Old Yu Tou panicked, instinctively clutching the fish basket tighter.

Mo Hua sighed: "I'll pay you spirit stones."

He pulled out several storage bags and handed them to Old Yu Tou.

Inside, the spirit stones totaled eight thousand.

Old Yu Tou held the bags in both hands, his expression disbelief, his hands trembling; after a long while, his eyes welled up:

"Alright…"

"Put them away," Mo Hua warned, "Don't let anyone see them. Don't let anyone steal them."

Only then did Old Yu Tou snap back to reality, tightly tying the bags to his waist, hiding them under his ragged hemp clothes.

But having suddenly acquired such wealth, Old Yu Tou clearly still felt unsafe—uneasy, he thought again, then wrapped another cloth strip around the bags and layered more clothing over them.

Mo Hua found it both amusing and heartbreaking.

"I'll hire a cart later—you move the fish basket onto it. I'll carry the fish away in public, or the Wang family will come back to harass you."

"Mm."

Old Yu Tou nodded, watching the small but kind-hearted Mo Hua, silently wiping away tears.

Yet Mo Hua had helped him so greatly—he felt guilty, wanting to repay him somehow.

But his home was poor; after thinking long and hard, he had nothing to offer, so he reached into the fish tank in the corner and scooped out several spirit fish.

These spirit fish were silvery-white; though not as precious as the golden lotus tricolor carp, their scales gleamed brightly, neatly aligned—clearly fine quality spirit fish.

Lao Yutou put all those fish into the three-colored carp basket, then said gratefully:

"These are silver-scaled white fish. Though far cheaper than golden three-colored carp, their flesh is excellent and their taste not bad—consider them an old man's gift to young master."

"Thank you, Uncle Yü."

Mo Hua smiled.

Then he glanced curiously into the fish tank and saw several other kinds of fish inside, each with different postures, swimming about.

These fish looked decent enough, but compared to his own golden carp and Lao Yutou's silver-scaled fish, they seemed dull in comparison.

Mo Hua nodded, just as he turned his gaze away—he froze, noticing a small fish tank beside the large one.

The small tank seemed to hold fish kept separately.

Its top was sealed, leaving only a narrow slit; inside, it was pitch-black, nothing visible, save occasional faint flashes of red.

Seeing Mo Hua notice the small tank, Lao Yutou's expression changed slightly; he immediately smiled apologetically:

"Young Master, all the fish are already in the basket."

Mo Hua pointed at the small tank and asked:

"What kind of fish is in this tank?"

Lao Yutou smiled: "A few red-water carp. These fish fear light, so they're kept in a tank covered with a lid, leaving only a slit for air."

"Red-water carp?"

Mo Hua paused slightly, extended his spiritual sense through the tank, and saw indeed several fish inside—their aura was pale red, and nothing else seemed amiss.

Mo Hua nodded and asked no more.

Lao Yutou went to arrange a carriage for Mo Hua.

Afterward, Mo Hua walked ahead with head held high, while Lao Yutou trudged behind, burdened with the fish basket, frowning.

It looked as if Mo Hua had bullied the old man, stolen his fish, and eaten for free.

Leaving the small fishing village, they reached the roadside, and Mo Hua leapt onto the carriage first.

Lao Yutou hauled the basket aboard, then, seeing no one around, bowed deeply to Mo Hua.

"Young Master, your great kindness—"

Mo Hua waved his hand and said, "Go back." Then he rode off in the carriage toward Qianzhou's border.

The River Dragon vanished upon entering the small fishing village and never showed himself again, but Mo Hua had no time to keep watching.

He had to return—the two-day rest period had ended, and class resumed tomorrow.

One must distinguish primary from secondary.

At this time, cultivation within the sect was paramount.

Even though he lost track of the River Dragon, it still led him to its hiding place.

Fishing requires patience.

This time, let it go. Next rest period, I'll come back to catch its tail.

The carriage moved farther away; beside the road, river water shimmered, mountains and rivers were beautiful, gradually burying the poor little fishing village entirely.

Yet the scenes of poverty in the village, Lao Yutou's bitter, numb words, still lingered in Mo Hua's heart.

Mo Hua's mood was complex.

He turned back to look at the little fishing village now hidden by green hills and clear waters, his gaze deep.

Perhaps this is…

the "soil" of the demonic god…

…

The carriage traveled all the way to Qingzhou City.

Mo Hua planned to give the golden lotus three-colored carp to Xu Wanyi.

Xu Wanyi had often taken care of him, frequently treated him to lavish meals, and never ceased giving him gifts.

Mo Hua felt he should reciprocate.

The journey had seemed calm, but Mo Hua noticed many cultivators watching him from the shadows.

A slight sweep of his spiritual sense told him they were from the Wang family.

Mo Hua pretended not to notice them, riding the carriage openly through the Gu family's main gate.

Now these lackeys would know he truly had the Gu family as his "backing"—a force they dared not provoke.

At the Gu residence, Wenren Wan was overjoyed upon hearing Mo Hua had bought a live golden lotus three-colored carp for her; after seeing it herself, she was startled—the fish glowed golden, its scales shifting in layers like lotus petals.

Though the Gu family was a prominent clan and their meals were always fine, such rare delicacies were not easily obtained.

Even if obtainable, they required considerable effort.

Wenren Wan immediately ordered the three-colored carp cooked, to nourish Mo Hua and Yu'er.

The fish meat was fresh and delicious, the broth rich and golden; Mo Hua ate with great delight.

In the end, more than half the fish ended up in Mo Hua and Yu'er's stomachs.

That night, under cover of darkness, Wenren Wan sent a Gu family carriage to return Mo Hua and Yu'er to Grand Void Gate.

The next day, classes and cultivation resumed as usual.

Everything should have been normal, but Mo Hua faintly felt his spiritual sense was off—exhausted, occasionally distracted.

Mo Hua calmed his mind, meditated inwardly, yet his spiritual sea was empty, his spiritual sense abundant, with no anomaly.

Mo Hua was puzzled, thinking perhaps he had simply overexerted himself from traveling.

That night, in the disciples' quarters,

Mo Hua sent a message to Gu Changhuai, detailing the River Dragon's trail, where it surfaced, and where it vanished in the small fishing village.

Then he asked Gu Changhuai to station someone to watch—but not to enter the village, just observe from afar, to avoid alerting the target.

Gu Changhuai has agreed.

After finishing the task, Mo Hua studied array formations for a while longer.

Near midnight, Mo Hua closed the array book, about to enter his consciousness to practice the new formations on the Dao Stele, when suddenly his eyes grew heavy and he was overcome with exhaustion.

A hazy but intense drowsiness swept over him.

His eyelids felt as heavy as lead stones; gradually, they shut, and he slumped onto the desk, sinking into deep sleep.

Mo Hua rarely dreamed.

In the dream, there was only mist; when the mist cleared, it revealed a river shimmering with ripples.

Mo Hua found himself grown, tall and muscular, dressed in coarse cloth, his exposed arms sun-baked to a bronze hue.

At that moment, he stood on a boat, drifting on the water, clutching a fishing net filled with fish.

He seemed to have become…

A fisher-cultivator?

Mo Hua blinked in surprise, yet in his daze, he accepted it.

Soon, he finished fishing, and someone beside him said, "You're not young anymore—it's time to marry. Life is so hard; you need someone to help you…"

Mo Hua felt reluctant inside.

But in an instant, clouds and mist filled the air.

Mo Hua found himself already through the wedding rites; across from him stood a woman veiled in a red bridal veil, familiar yet strange.

The bride?

Mo Hua froze, then lifted the veil—and found the bride was his junior sister!

His junior sister's expression was calm, her cheeks flushed like the bright morning clouds on the horizon.

Mo Hua couldn't help but grin like an idiot.

But before he finished smiling, he realized he was dead.

He died while fishing on the river.

A huge wave crashed over, capsizing the boat; he was devoured by a water spirit.

His usually cold junior sister clutched his corpse, weeping uncontrollably.

Before Mo Hua could grieve, he found himself alive again.

This time, his junior sister was his childhood sweetheart.

The young master of the Wang family coveted his beautiful junior sister and sought to take her by force.

He grew furious and beat every Wang sect cultivator he could find—but when he defeated the young ones, the elders came; he couldn't win, so he fled with his junior sister.

It was a night of storm and rain.

He gripped his junior sister's hand tightly, fleeing along the Yan Shui River.

But in the end, they could not escape pursuit; cornered and desperate, they embraced each other and threw themselves into the river to die together…

Then the scene shifted—suddenly, another lifetime.

He and his junior sister now had children, but life was bitter; her exquisitely fair face had grown haggard.

She constantly scolded him, blaming him for being poor, urging him to earn more spirit stones to support the family.

Yet despite her complaints, she still sewed his clothes, cooked for the children, and never left him.

Finally, a violent storm and torrential rain made fishing impossible.

The whole family starved to death.

As she died, his junior sister lay beside him, clutching his hand tightly, her gaze filled with sorrow and tenderness…

Mo Hua's heart seized with agonizing pain, so sharp he could barely breathe.

In a daze, he seemed to hear a whisper beside his ear:

"My life is too bitter—I can't go on…"

"Save us…"

"Please…"

"Please…"

"Lord of the Yan Shui River…"

River "God"?!

The moment those two words reached his ears, Mo Hua jolted awake, eyes flying open.

Tears still clung to his lashes, but his gaze had turned icy.

"How dare you invade my dreams?"

Mo Hua's spiritual sense plunged instantly into his consciousness, settling into deep meditation.

At the same time, faint golden bloodlines surfaced from within his body, converging into his eyes.

Deep in his eyes, a sacred, majestic golden light glowed.

Under divine sight, the empty consciousness sea grew suddenly clearer.

Mo Hua focused his golden gaze—and saw, in a corner of his consciousness sea, countless tiny, blood-red fish had appeared, unnoticed until now.

Among them was one with sharp fangs, a vicious mouth, eyes full of malice, its fins transformed into legs, walking upright—a blood-colored fish demon.

The fish demon spotted Mo Hua, glared fiercely, and cackled wildly.

But halfway through its laugh, it noticed the thick golden light radiating from Mo Hua's body—and its eyes filled with terror.

Mo Hua's face remained expressionless; he reached out, seized its throat, squeezed slightly—and golden light flashed in his palm, crushing the blood-colored fish demon to death.

After the demon died, it dissolved into a pool of blood-red water, reeking faintly of fish.

Mo Hua sensed, within it, a faint trace of sinister divine energy.

It was like a divine sense that had been assimilated by an evil god.

It just lacked the divine marrow, and the amount of divine sense itself was too scant to get a proper bite.

With a flick of his finger, Mo Hua condensed an Earth Fire array, burning away all of this blood-colored river water, along with some remaining blood-colored small fish, leaving not a single trace.

After clearing away the evil entities, Mo Hua withdrew from the sea of consciousness.

In reality, Mo Hua opened his eyes, yet his brow furrowed tightly.

So this is... the evil god's method?

Exactly when did I fall victim to it?

(End of chapter)