Chapter 8: Chapter Eight: An Xiaofu

"Young Master An?"

The elaborately dressed little fat boy was the eldest son of the An family of Xiancheng, named An Xiaofu—perhaps his father had held too high expectations for him, so he named him "Xiaofu," meaning "peace through sufficiency."

But because he looked plump, his fellow disciples privately called him An Xiaopang.

An Xiaopang was a bit dim-witted and sometimes acted like a spoiled young master, but his heart wasn't bad, and he often asked Mo Hua to draw his array examination assignments for him.

He couldn't draw arrays at all, couldn't produce a single line, and didn't want to be punished by the instructor or beaten by his father, so he could only beg Mo Hua for help.

At this moment, An Xiaopang stormed in, "You Mo Hua! I treat you as a friend, and you look down on me?!"

Mo Hua was baffled, "How am I looking down on you?"

An Xiaopang pulled out a sheet of array diagram with red ink annotations, "You drew my array assignment—six mistakes total! But the one you drew for Qian Xing, that skinny monkey, had not a single error! Isn't that looking down on me? Doesn't that mean you think I'm worse than him?"

The "skinny monkey" An Xiaopang mentioned was the Thin Young Master, surnamed Qian, named Xing, the third young master of the Qian family's direct line.

The Qian family was the largest in Xiancheng, the An family second; both ran trading houses, competed in business, harbored ancestral grudges, and their younger generations clashed in every way, striving to outdo each other—even in physique, one was fat, one was thin, utterly incompatible.

Yet in cultivation, both were equally lazy and uneducated, which made them "evenly matched."

Though both were纨绔, Qian Xing's reputation was worse—he was arrogant, tyrannical, bullied others with his family's power, and rumors said he'd done many wicked things behind closed doors, but his family shielded him, so nothing ever came of it.

In comparison, An Xiaopang merely ate, drank, paraded around town showing off, but because his father kept a tight rein, he never went too far.

"So it's about this?"

Seeing Mo Hua's indifference, An Xiaopang's face flushed red.

"I'm helping you," Mo Hua said.

An Xiaopang sneered at Mo Hua, "How are you helping me?"

"How does your array skill compare to Young Master Qian's?"

An Xiaopang boasted, "At least it's not worse than his!"

Mo Hua was speechless—was that something to be proud of?

Mo Hua continued, "Exactly. With his skill, how could he possibly draw an array with not a single mistake?"

"Of course not! Even I can't draw one, so how could he?"

"So you know—how could the instructor not notice? The instructor is always strict—he'd punish Qian Xing and tell his father, who'd lose face and surely give him a beating…"

An Xiaopang pondered a moment, "That does make sense… but I never heard Qian Skinny got beaten. Are you lying to me…"

Mo Hua gave him a look, "Family shame isn't aired publicly. When your father beats you, he locks the door—how would you know?"

An Xiaopang nodded, still shaken, "You're right—my father beats me, and never lets anyone know!"

Mo Hua added, "Didn't your father not only not beat you this time, but praise you?"

An Xiaopang instantly beamed, "Right! The instructor gave me a B grade. When my father heard, he praised my progress and gave me plenty of good things!"

An Xiaopang's anger flared fast and faded fast—he immediately stopped being mad and felt a bit guilty, saying to Mo Hua:

"I misjudged you! I'll treat you to a meal at Ling Shan Lou—it's my family's place, eat as much as you want!"

Mo Hua hadn't expected An Xiaopang to be so generous, but still declined, "No need—I have things to do."

An Xiaopang grumbled, "My father always teaches me: repay every favor. If you don't go, you're looking down on me!"

Thinking of his swollen, bruised buttocks from his father's beatings, An Xiaopang insisted even more firmly, "This favor is significant—you must go!"

An Xiaopang's childish temper made him stubborn.

Mo Hua's head ached. He glanced at the door of the Array Hall, then said, "Young Master An, I won't eat at Ling Shan Lou—but can you do me a favor?"

An Xiaopang patted his chest, "Say it!"

"Lend me ten spirit stones."

An Xiaopang frowned—he didn't have ten spirit stones. His father never let him carry more than five, to prevent him from squandering them.

He could take Mo Hua to Ling Shan Lou and charge it to his father's account—it was food and drink, recorded in the books, so his father wouldn't object. His father feared him spending spirit stones on shady, untraceable things, where no records existed, and trouble could erupt unnoticed.

An Xiaopang pulled out his five spirit stones, then looked at his attendant, "Give me your spirit stones—I'll pay you back when I get home."

The attendant hesitated but reluctantly handed over his stones—exactly ten in total.

An Xiaopang handed the stones to Mo Hua, "Here, no need to return them!"

Mo Hua shook his head, "I'll pay you back in a few days."

Mo Hua weighed the spirit stones in his palm, carefully tucked them away, bid An Xiaopang farewell, then returned to the Array Hall—still no customers, the clerk still dozing.

Mo Hua stepped in, tiptoed to the counter, and placed the ten spirit stones upon it.

"I brought the spirit stones!"

The clerk, barely awake, heard the bell again and saw Mo Hua—and the ten spirit stones on the counter.

The clerk picked up the stones, examined them closely, found no flaw, nodded, then reached beneath the counter and pulled out a storage pouch.

"Inside is a diagram of the Minghuo Array, plus ten sheets of array paper and spirit ink—enough to draw ten Minghuo Arrays. This order has a ten-day deadline; overdue, your deposit is forfeit entirely. For each successfully drawn Minghuo Array, you earn one spirit stone. If you make a mistake or fail to meet standards, one spirit stone is deducted. These are standard trade house rules—your brother should know them."

Mo Hua nodded.

If all arrays succeeded, he'd earn ten spirit stones; if all failed, he'd lose ten. If more than half succeeded, he'd profit.

The clerk added, "Ten-day deadline—don't forget. Overdue, I keep your full deposit."

Mo Hua nodded quickly, bowed thanks to the clerk, and left.

When Mo Hua returned home, he locked himself in his room and focused intently on the array.

A maximum of ten spirit stones was a substantial sum—Mo Hua had earned twelve helping fellow disciples with their array assignments, but he only did that a few times a year.

Besides, helping fellow disciples with their assignments wasn't proper work.

Occasional help was fine, but long-term, it would hinder their progress.

The trading house was different—if he did well, he could earn spirit stones long-term, while practicing arrays—truly a two-for-one.

Mo Hua spread the Minghuo Array diagram before him.

The diagram had been pre-drawn by other array masters, usable as a template.

Behind the array diagram was also attached an array illustration, recording the array's formation patterns, the brush and ink to use, and other points of attention — it was a diagram commonly used in the cultivation world to record arrays.

The illustration of the "Bright Fire Array" recorded the relevant annotations for the Bright Fire Array: where to use fire-attribute formation patterns, how the patterns connected, the mixing of ink, the ratio of ink used, and so on. Many of the concepts looked rather unfamiliar to Mo Hua, and understanding them was a bit of a struggle.

This was the first time Mo Hua had seen a formal array illustration. What he had previously learned at the sect were the simplest arrays — though they were called arrays, most contained only one or two basic formation patterns, used for disciples' introductory and beginner-level study, and were still different from the arrays truly in widespread use in the cultivation world.

At the end of the Bright Fire Array illustration, there was also a line of annotation:

Bright Fire Array, fire-attribute array, contains three formation patterns, requires a realm above Qi Refining third layer.

But what concerned Mo Hua most was a line of small characters handwritten in cinnabar brush after the annotation:

Those who have not reached the realm have insufficient divine sense — study with caution!

Mo Hua, who was only at Qi Refining second layer, could not help but knit his brow.

Every action of a cultivator requires divine sense: guiding spiritual energy, driving spiritual power, using spells, controlling spirit artifacts, refining pills and weapons — all must use divine sense.

Among these, the divine sense expended in drawing arrays is the greatest — this is something universally known among cultivators. But here it was specifically marked "insufficient divine sense, study with caution," and the realm was even specified, and it was written in cinnabar-red ink.

This made Mo Hua realize that he might not have realized just how much that "most" actually was…

"Could it really be that drawing arrays requires a great deal of divine sense?"

Mo Hua propped up his small chin and fell into thought.

"Forget it, let me first familiarize myself with the formation patterns, and practice on the stele at night before saying more."

Mo Hua memorized the Bright Fire Array's array diagram, ate dinner with his father and mother, and after returning to his room practiced several times with ordinary paper and ink to familiarize himself with the formation patterns. When it reached the hour of Zi, he lay down on the bed, and at the same time he closed his eyes, the ancient, plain, and ethereal remnant stele floated up in his sea of consciousness.