Chapter 691

Although he had already suspected, Mo Hua still felt a faint chill in his heart.

Mo Hua's gaze darkened slightly as he asked:

"How did those two children disappear?"

Gu Changhuai said: "According to nearby fishing cultivators, the two children were playing in the village in the evening, but by nightfall, they suddenly vanished…"

"At first, Old Yu's family thought the children were just being mischievous and refused to come home, but as the night grew deeper and their grandsons still didn't appear, they realized something was wrong and searched the village all night—found nothing…"

"They searched by the river too—found nothing."

"It was as if they vanished into thin air…"

"The village's fishing cultivators suspect the children, lured by playfulness, ventured too close to the Yan Shui River and were dragged underwater and devoured by water spirits…"

"But judging from the evidence, these two children were likely abducted by the River Dragon."

"If we don't act soon, once the River Dragon sells them off, retrieving them will be as impossible as climbing to heaven…"

Gu Changhuai's gaze was solemn.

No… not sold off.

Mo Hua felt a chill creep through him.

It's also possible… they were taken as offerings and delivered to some demonic deity.

If so, they may never return…

"Did the Dao Ting Si send people to search?" Mo Hua asked.

Gu Changhuai hesitated, then sighed helplessly: "This small fishing village is a mixed settlement of unaffiliated cultivators, outside Xiancheng. Many cultivators lack official registration—jurisdiction is loose. The Dao Ting Si rarely intervenes, because even if they help, their efforts won't count as official merit…"

"I can only send people from the Gu family to search near the Yan Shui River and around the small fishing village…"

"But we've found no leads in any of those places."

"If they're not outside, they're still inside the small fishing village."

"That suggests the River Dragon likely took the two children into the stronghold you mentioned. We must find its entrance as soon as possible…"

"Mm." Mo Hua nodded.

He had known all along where the stronghold's entrance was—but he couldn't say it yet.

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then decided: "On the next day off, I'll return to the small fishing village."

Gu Changhuai: "I'll try to come too…"

Mo Hua was about to agree, but suddenly paused, then said thoughtfully:

"Uncle Gu, you're a third-grade Gu Diansi—you're busy. Don't come yet. Wait until I find the entrance, then I'll tell you."

Gu Changhuai fell silent for a moment, then said:

"That's better."

Though he was a Jin Dan cultivator, finding people wasn't necessarily something he was more "specialized" in than Mo Hua.

With Mo Hua's intelligence and alertness, if he couldn't find anything, Gu Changhuai didn't believe he himself would uncover any clues.

Having witnessed so much, Gu Changhuai wasn't overly concerned for Mo Hua's safety.

Unless he encountered a demonic cultivator like Huo Fotuo—near invincible at the peak of Foundation Establishment and below Jin Dan—in a second-grade prefecture, especially within a small fishing village, Mo Hua shouldn't face great danger.

Even if danger truly arose, with the boy's abilities, self-preservation should still be more than enough.

Gu Changhuai had no doubts, so he simply followed protocol and warned:

"Then be careful."

"Mm."

After speaking with Gu Changhuai, Mo Hua thought of Old Yu, who had spent his life struggling for his two grandsons' survival, and couldn't help sighing.

Rope snaps at its thinnest point; misfortune targets the wretched.

In this world, the more suffering a person endures, the more suffering they face.

"I hope Old Yu's two grandsons aren't truly taken by the River Dragon to that well bottom shrouded in blood mist…"

On the day off, Mo Hua returned to the small fishing village.

Originally, this day off was meant for him to visit Ku Shan first, to meet his old friend Huang Shanjun in the ruined temple and chat with it, then subtly ask if there were any ways to deal with demonic deities—or any precautions to take.

But now there was no time.

If he waited any longer, Old Yu's two grandsons might not even leave behind bones.

Huang Shanjun could wait.

Mo Hua left the Grand Void Gate early, rode in a carriage, passed through Qingzhou City, then followed the main road straight to the Yan Shui Riverbank, arriving at the small fishing village at noon.

In the small fishing village, smoke from cooking fires had dwindled; most fishing cultivators had abandoned meals, scattering to call out "Xiao Shun" and "Xiao Shui"…

Xiao Shun and Xiao Shui were the nicknames of Old Yu's two grandsons.

These fishing cultivators were helping Old Yu search for his two grandsons.

Though the small fishing village was poor, living together day and night fostered deep human bonds.

Even some fishing cultivators who had quarreled with Old Yu in the past still joined the search.

Children are innocent.

They could miss a couple days' work—go hungry a little.

But if the children were lost, two living lives vanished—flesh of their flesh, never to be seen again. No one's heart could bear it.

Mo Hua sighed.

He thought for a moment, then went to Old Yu's house first.

In Old Yu's home, several elderly cultivators had gathered—very old, hair white, bones thin—likely the village elders.

Old Yu sat under the eaves, his gaze blank, soulless.

His shoes were worn through; though a Foundation Establishment cultivator with strong flesh, he had walked for who knew how long, over who knew where—his soles cracked and bleeding.

"... Rest for a while..."

"Take your time... Rushing won't help."

Several elders were comforting him.

But Old Yu's head remained like a lump of wood, deaf to their words.

Only when Mo Hua entered the room did Old Yu's numb eyes slowly turn, and his ashen face twisted with regret and hatred.

"I... was wrong..."

Old Yu looked at Mo Hua and wept.

"Young Master, I was wrong—I shouldn't have ignored your words..."

"I was too greedy."

Old Yu slapped himself hard, "How could I... have been so insatiable?"

"I deserve to die..."

Old Yu's eyes were bloodshot, his expression filled with remorse.

Hearing this, the surrounding elders stared in shock, exchanging uneasy glances.

Mo Hua's gaze sharpened slightly as he asked softly:

"Old Yu, what exactly happened?"

Old Yu lowered his eyes, his expression torn; finally, as if all strength had been drained, he gave up resisting and sighed heavily:

"That day, I listened to your words, Young Master, and thought they made sense—people must know contentment, must not demand endlessly from the River God."

"I decided then—I would no longer raise blood fish, no longer offer sacrifices to the River God, no longer make wishes to Him..."

"I had made up my mind, I was resolved... but that night, I dreamed—my two little grandsons had already entered the sect, but because of their lowly origins, they were mocked, humiliated, oppressed by the scions of noble families, forced to serve them as their dogs..."

"Finally, little Shui couldn't bear the humiliation and quietly... took his own life..."

"His older brother, little Shun, tried to avenge his brother, but he was no match for those noble disciples—he was beaten to death..."

"After he died, his corpse was corroded entirely by black poison, his face unrecognizable..."

Hearing this, Mo Hua's scalp prickled, his heart chilled.

"Could this be...?"

Old Yu, unaware of Mo Hua's thoughts, continued:

"My two little grandsons... were gone like that..."

"When I woke, I was drenched in cold sweat—I realized I'd been naive. The sect's waters run far deeper than I knew; as a lone cultivator, I understood nothing."

"Eight thousand spirit stones—though a fortune to us lone cultivators—are but a drop in the ocean to noble families and sects."

"Those spirit stones are far from enough to secure a good future for my two little grandsons."

"But I'm useless—I'm an old Foundation Establishment cultivator, barely managed to break through thanks to luck, with no cultivation lineage or other skills..."

"I could only... beg the River God."

Old Yu's expression was filled with sorrow.

Mo Hua had a suspicion now, and sighed: "And then?"

"And then..." Old Yu's tears flowed again, "I was punished—I was too greedy..."

"The River God blamed me."

"It took away my two little grandsons—to punish me."

"My two little grandsons... will never come back..."

Old Yu's expression turned utterly lifeless.

Mo Hua frowned.

Suddenly, one elder cried out: "Sacrifice to the River God? You..."

His pupils dilated, his voice trembling: "You... what did you use as sacrifice?"

The elder's reaction startled everyone around him.

Old Yu, confused, replied hoarsely: "A kind of blood-red little fish..."

The elder's face turned instantly pale. "Disaster..."

Mo Hua froze, then quickly asked the white-haired elder:

"Grandpa, what is the origin of these blood-red little fish?"

The elder's eyes were filled with terror: "This is an omen of village annihilation..."

The others looked bewildered.

"You don't know..." The elder's eyelids trembled, his voice cold: "I've lived three hundred years. Long ago, I heard that this land once had a fishing village..."

"That fishing village was larger than ours, and its fisher-cultivators far more numerous."

"At first, the weather was favorable—the village wasn't rich, but food was enough."

"Then, for no clear reason, people began dying in the river. The fisher-cultivators grew terrified."

"Later, a passerby told them they had angered the River God, and He had sent divine punishment."

"They must dig a well, feed it with human blood to raise blood fish, then cast them into the well as offerings to the River God."

"Only then, if the River God received their worship, would He forgive them."

"They hesitated but followed the advice—and indeed, no more people died in the river."

"But as they kept raising them, they noticed the villagers began to change—their gazes grew vacant, their reactions sluggish, like 'walking corpses'..."

But as they kept raising them, everyone noticed that the villagers all seemed to have problems—their gazes dull, their reactions slow, as if they were "walking corpses."

The elder's voice trembled, his face still haunted by fear.

The old man's voice trembled slightly, his expression still haunted by fear.

"Later still, for some unknown reason, the entire village... just vanished..."

Mo Hua's pupils contracted. "Vanished?"

The old man nodded. "Yes, all of it gone. The people gone, the whole village gone too. No one knows what happened..."

"At the same time, within a radius of ten li, a thick fog would rise at night — you couldn't see your hand in front of your face."

"Anyone who dared walk into the fog never came back out."

Mo Hua looked solemn, lost in thought.

"Oh, wait — that's not right." The old man suddenly paused, then said with sudden realization, "I remember now — there was one person who came out..."

Mo Hua was startled. "Who?"

The old man shook his head. "I only heard the elders talk about it when I was little. How would I know who it was?"

"I just heard that the cultivator carried a sword on his back, had long, slender brows, and ignoring everyone's warnings, walked straight into the fog."

"Everyone thought he was dead for sure, but no one expected that, near daybreak, he walked out alive."

"He had no wounds on his body, but his face was pale, as if he had been through a bitter fight and was seriously injured."

"After he came out, he left two warnings: first, don't enter this blood fog again, or your life and death would be uncertain; second, don't raise a certain kind of small blood-red fish, or disaster would befall the whole village..."

"But his words were a little strange."

"The fog was just fog — there was no blood color to it. How could it be blood fog?"

The old man shook his head and continued: "But this sword-bearing cultivator, though no one knew his cultivation or his origins, was certainly no ordinary person. So everyone passed down his words..."

"After that, the fog gradually faded, and the old fishing village had completely vanished."

"Nearly a hundred years passed before the current small fishing village was built."

"And the cultivators of the past had died or grown old. The two warnings left by the sword-bearing cultivator were known by very few people anymore, and no one knew the terrible taboo hidden within..."

The old man's expression was one of lament.

The others, hearing this, all looked panicked.

But some didn't believe it. "Disaster befalling the whole village? How could it be that mystical?"

"Just some baseless rumors heard from who knows where..."

"Exactly, how could there be so many gods and disasters? Xiaoshunzi and Xiaoshuizi probably just fell into the water and were carried off by a water demon..."

"Nonsense! If they were carried off by a water demon, how could they still be alive?"

"In my opinion, they were probably kidnapped by human traffickers. Maybe in a few days, they'll be found..."

"If they were kidnapped by traffickers, how would we ever find them?"

"Old Yu, don't worry. The two kids were probably just playing and got lost. Maybe one day they'll wander back on their own..."

The surrounding cultivators were all trying to comfort Old Yu.

But Old Yu shook his head with a miserable expression, saying with conviction: "It's the River God..."

"It was my greed that angered the River God. My two little grandsons were taken by the River God, and they'll never come back..."

"I have nothing left in this life..."

"Not even a single thing to hold onto..."

Old Yu's gaze was numb, his expression one of utter despair, as if all the hope of a lifetime had been instantly crushed by cruel reality.

Mo Hua's pupils jolted.

He discovered that Old Yu's wish-power seemed to be draining away.

At the same time, something in the fish tank inside the house seemed to be rapidly swelling, twisting as it grew...

Mo Hua's gaze turned cold. He condensed a streak of Jin Guang from his fingers, which shot through the air straight into the house, instantly shattering the small fish tank Old Yu had used to raise the blood fish.

The fish tank shattered, river water spilling across the floor.

A red demon creature leapt straight out.

It had sharp fangs and a vicious mouth, its body covered in scales, its gills already transformed into limbs, its two eyes hollow and numb, walking upright like a human.

It was exactly the blood fish Old Yu had been raising.

Mo Hua said to Old Yu and the others, "Step back!" Then he raised his hand and fired several fireballs that exploded against the body of this blood-colored fish demon.

The fireballs weren't very powerful — they only staggered the evil fish demon when they hit it.

The blood-colored fish demon cackled wildly, its form grotesque and arrogant.

Mo Hua pointed a finger, and several more fireballs whistled forth.

The fish demon seemed to be gradually getting used to its new body, moving more nimbly, dodging the fireballs one by one. Then, looking at Mo Hua, its expression took on a hint of viciousness and contempt.

Mo Hua's expression remained calm as he continued to cast fireball techniques.

These few fireballs were dodged by the fish demon as well, but they exploded on the ground, kicking up some dust and smoke.

Using the smoke as Liao Zheyan, Mo Hua tapped his fingers, guided ink with his divine sense, and painted an array on the ground. Several second-grade earthfire arrays rapidly materialized near the fish demon.

Mo Hua's technique was both swift and covert.

When the smoke cleared and the fish demon noticed the dense fiery array patterns beneath its feet, its ugly pupils suddenly widened.

But it was too late.

Violent flames erupted, swallowing the fish demon whole.

A wail rang out as the newly born fish demon was directly blasted into a cloud of blood mist by several earthfire arrays.

The elderly cultivators around them stared in shock, having no idea what had happened before the fish demon was slaughtered by Mo Hua.

But though the fish demon was dead, the blood mist remained.

Mo Hua stepped forward, approaching the blood mist. As expected, the blood mist drilled straight into Mo Hua's mouth and nose.

After Mo Hua swallowed the blood mist, he immediately sat down cross-legged on the spot, sinking his divine sense into his sea of consciousness.

In the realm of consciousness, that blood-colored fish demon reappeared.

It cackled wildly within Mo Hua's consciousness, its dead-fish eyes spinning incessantly, radiating hunger, convinced it had entered its own domain.

But in the next instant, Mo Hua's figure materialized.

The fish demon froze.

Mo Hua's body glowed with Jin Guang; his small hand reached out, gripping the fish demon's throat, then squeezed with bare hands—within a single instant, he crushed the tiny demon to death.

Afterwards, Mo Hua withdrew from the realm of consciousness and opened his eyes.

The courtyard was utterly silent.

The elderly cultivators, both terrified and bewildered.

They did not know what had happened, nor what Mo Hua had done.

In Old Yu Tou's gaze, beyond fear and bewilderment, lay only lingering, lifeless despair.

Mo Hua's expression softened with pity; only now did he understand.

In a life of suffering, offering a sliver of hope, then utterly snuffing it out, creates a far greater despair.

This despair instantly drains a person's "hope" to live—it is an intensely powerful, agonizing force of will.

This is the finest offering for a demonic god.

Mo Hua looked at Old Yu Tou, who moved like a corpse, and sighed: "The River God is fake."

Old Yu Tou's gaze slowly shifted.

Mo Hua said: "There is no River God. This is not a sacrifice. The fish you raise are useless—they are merely ordinary 'water demons'…"

"Your grandson was not taken by the River God—he was kidnapped by human traffickers."

"That trafficker has been pursued by Dao Ting Si for many days."

Only then did Old Yu Tou slowly come to his senses. "Dao Ting Si?"

Mo Hua nodded and pulled out his bronze Dao Ting Si waist token. "I am a member of Dao Ting Si. I came to this small fishing village because the trafficker is hiding among you—though you never noticed…"

"Your two grandsons were taken by that trafficker."

"Dao Ting Si already has leads and is sending people to investigate. You need not worry—results should come soon…"

A faint glimmer slowly returned to Old Yu Tou's eyes.

With all his strength, he dragged himself up and bowed his head to Mo Hua. "Thank you… please, young master…"

But his willpower had been drained, his consciousness devoured too deeply—he turned pale and was utterly weak.

Mo Hua helped him up and whispered gently:

"Dao Ting Si is investigating this in secret. Do not alert the enemy. Do not tell anyone…"

Old Yu Tou nodded solemnly.

His two grandsons had been taken by human traffickers—not by the River God. There was still hope. There was still hope…

In his eyes, a trace of longing and the will to live rekindled.

Mo Hua sighed inwardly.

Though taken by human traffickers, in truth…

It was no different from being taken by a demonic god.

Afterwards, Mo Hua left Old Yu Tou's home and walked through the small fishing village, lost in thought, beginning to plan his next move.

He had to go to that well, no matter what.

And from the earlier conversations among the village elders, he now finally understood what the well truly was.

A chill crept into Mo Hua's heart; his expression grew solemn.

If the rumors he had just heard were true, then this well was an entrance.

It led to a fishing village that vanished centuries ago—corrupted and consumed by a demonic god…

(End of Chapter)