Chapter 818: Old Grudges (Bonus chapter for Silver Alliance patron Mubai Jinyu～)

Words are powerless.

Only with a sword in hand can one have a voice.

The sharper the sword in hand, the more confidence one has in speaking.

Now, around the cave, Mo Hua had laid out countless killing arrays; with this, Mo Hua had even more grounds to speak.

"Come out."

Mo Hua said coolly.

The person inside the cave did not know what Mo Hua had done outside, but could vaguely sense a killing intent and an oppressive pressure that stirred unease.

"Fellow cultivator, to be honest, I am severely wounded, my legs are crippled, and I truly cannot come out easily…"

"If you do not mind, would you not consider entering the cave for a chat?"

Mo Hua snorted inwardly.

He would not go in.

This man's origins were unknown, the cave's dangers were uncertain—only a fool would rush in blindly.

"I won't go in. You come out."

Mo Hua said firmly.

"Fellow cultivator, my injuries are truly too grave, my mobility is severely limited; please have some mercy…" The aged voice inside the cave said with a hint of apology.

Mo Hua shook his head, coldly saying:

"I don't want excuses, I don't want reasons, I don't want explanations. I give you five breaths. Two choices: within five breaths, either you come out yourself, or I blow up the cave and force you out."

Hearing this, the person inside the cave seethed inwardly.

"I've run into an unyielding 'old fox'—truly a nuisance…"

Outside the cave, Mo Hua had already begun counting.

From five to one, no matter who was inside, he was prepared to blow the cave apart.

Time was precious; he did not wish to waste it.

"Five, four…"

Sensing Mo Hua's resolve, the person inside immediately changed expression and said, "Wait! Fellow cultivator, let's talk this through…"

"Three…"

"Alright, alright, I'm coming out!"

The aged voice inside the cave hurriedly said.

Mo Hua stopped counting, his gaze fixed warily on the cave, his internal Qi circulating, a thread of Qi moving to his fingertip, ready to hurl a fireball at the slightest provocation.

Two other threads of Qi flowed to his soles, ready to flee instantly if anything went wrong.

After a moment, rustling sounds came from within the cave, as if someone had risen, followed by faint footsteps and the tapping of a bamboo cane against the ground.

The sounds grew closer.

Within just a few breaths, a figure appeared at the cave's mouth.

Under the moonlight, Mo Hua could roughly make out his face.

The man inside was an old man, thin and short, his expression under the moonlight appearing grim, his eyes sharp and menacing.

At this moment, he leaned on a bamboo cane, his breath uneven, his steps unsteady—he clearly was wounded.

As Mo Hua looked at the old man, the old man also saw Mo Hua; his grim expression shifted to unmistakable shock.

Although the voice had suggested the cultivator outside might be young, seeing Mo Hua's youthful face with his own eyes, the old man still found it hard to believe.

A man who acted with flawless precision and refused all persuasion was just a boy with such a youthful face?

And his cultivation aura—barely Foundation Establishment mid-stage.

Even his Qi was weak, among Foundation Establishment mid-stage cultivators, merely mediocre to low.

The old man could not help but feel rage.

He, a Jin Dan cultivator of high standing, fallen from grace, was being forced into such a corner by a mere Foundation Establishment brat? This was utterly outrageous!

The old man tried to take another step forward, but Mo Hua said, "Stop. Don't move."

The old man halted, looked around, and only then realized he stood at the center of layer upon layer of killing arrays; his eyelid twitched.

High-grade second-grade arrays!

Within the arrays flowed lethal intent that inspired dread.

The old man's anger instantly vanished; his demeanor softened, and he said to Mo Hua, "Fine."

When under someone else's roof, one must bow.

He did not know how this Foundation Establishment mid-stage brat had managed to set up so many high-grade second-grade killing arrays in such a short time.

But a killing array was a killing array.

Arrays did not reason.

Even in a third-grade prefecture, a Jin Dan cultivator would never willingly wish to be "baptized" by so many high-grade second-grade killing arrays.

Especially since this was a second-grade prefecture, where cultivation was restricted.

And he himself was severely wounded, fleeing day and night, like a candle flickering in the wind.

The old man's gaze turned dark, he lifted his eyes slightly, looked at Mo Hua, and bowed his hands to ask:

"I wonder, young master, what is your surname and name? From which lineage do you come? Who is your master?"

Mo Hua shook his head, "I ask, you answer!"

Now that this old man stood in the center of his killing arrays, the initiative was in his hands—he would not give him the chance to ask questions.

The old man's face twitched, and he nodded, "Fine."

"What is your surname?" Mo Hua asked.

The old man's expression didn't change. "My surname is Zhao."

"What's your name?"

"My given name is 'Hai'."

"You're not from Qianxue State?" Mo Hua's gaze sharpened as he asked.

"You're correct, young friend," the old man replied. "I am from west of Qianxue State, south of Chaoyun State—a third-grade Zhao family cultivator, holding the position of elder in my clan…"

Zhao Hai, elder of the third-grade Zhao family.

Mo Hua nodded slightly.

This old man was no different from himself—lying came as easily as breathing, boasting without even needing to prepare.

He certainly didn't bear the surname Zhao.

Nor was his name "Zhao Hai."

As for this nonsense about being south of Chaoyun State and an elder of the third-grade Zhao family—something ten thousand miles away—Mo Hua couldn't tell truth from fiction anyway.

"Elder Zhao," Mo Hua bowed respectfully.

The old man returned the bow. "May I ask your honorable surname, might you…"

"I haven't finished asking," Mo Hua said.

The old man hesitated, then forced patience.

"Young friend, please continue."

Mo Hua fixed his gaze on the self-proclaimed "Elder Zhao" and asked, "Who injured you?"

The old man sighed. "A band of passing evil cultivators—no one knows why—they suddenly attacked me. I was caught off guard and suffered severe injury."

"Oh." Mo Hua nodded, noncommittal. He asked again:

"Why teach…"

Mo Hua paused, withholding the names of Xiao Shunzi and Xiao Shuizi, feigning ignorance. "Why teach those two children just now the cultivation methods and techniques?"

"Young friend, do you know those two children?" the old man asked, puzzled.

Mo Hua stared silently at him, saying nothing.

Meaning: I ask, you answer. You have no right to ask questions yet.

The old man's eyelid twitched slightly, then he let out a long sigh, speaking with sentiment:

"While healing in this cave, I was deeply moved by these two children's sincere hearts—they brought me water and food. Such character is rare. I decided to pass on some of the Zhao family's heritage to them, to settle karmic ties and forge a good connection."

Mo Hua nodded, but inwardly thought:

Again with the lies…

Poor children's bellies are never full; if they had anything, they'd have eaten it themselves long ago—why leave it for you?

As for karmic ties and good connections—absolute nonsense.

Do you even know what karmic ties are? What good connections are?

The old man studied Mo Hua's expression, unsure whether he believed him or not, and asked softly:

"Young friend, I've answered all your questions. Might I now…"

Mo Hua nodded. "Since you've spoken, I won't trouble you further. I'll remove these arrays."

The old man exhaled in relief, turning to reenter the cave.

Mo Hua watched him, then suddenly narrowed his eyes and said sternly:

"You're from Water Prison Gate!"

At the words "Water Prison Gate," the old man's pupils contracted sharply, and his fingers flickered imperceptibly—three water needles shot toward Mo Hua at treacherous angles.

Mo Hua had sensed the killing intent from the start.

This old devil had intended to kill him from the beginning.

As the old man struck, Mo Hua activated Flowing Water Step, sidestepping with agile footwork to evade the treacherous attack.

Such nimble body technique!

Seeing his long-prepared strike fail, the old man shifted his body, lunging to strike again.

But Mo Hua pointed through the air—water condensed into a cage, binding the old man tightly.

Yet in the next instant, blue light flashed over the old man's body, water energy swirling—he broke free from Mo Hua's Water Prison Technique effortlessly.

After breaking free, the old man's expression changed sharply:

Water Prison Technique?!

And he had refined it to such an astonishing degree.

He stared at Mo Hua in disbelief. "Who are you?"

Mo Hua landed and stood firm, his expression calm.

"You truly are from Water Prison Gate…"

Water Prison Technique originated from Water Prison Gate—it was their ultimate art.

So far, only two had escaped it.

One was Water Yama, the other was this old man.

Water Yama must be connected to Water Prison Gate.

And this old man—now it was clear—he too was a disciple of Water Prison Gate.

The old man stared fixedly at Mo Hua, his expression shifting, unable to tell if Mo Hua was friend or foe.

"A True Person from my sect once saved a descendant of the Yu family, who gifted him the secret manual for Water Prison Technique. That's how I learned it."

Mo Hua spoke succinctly.

But the old man heard the four words "True Person," and his heart froze.

True Person is a title for those who have achieved Yu Hua.

If there is a True Person elder in your sect, then this brat's origins are likely far from ordinary.

Even if not a top-tier grand sect, it should at least be on par with the Qian Xue Hundred Sects.

Water Prison Gate once flourished, but that was a thousand years ago; now it is fallen and destitute, utterly incomparable.

The old man's attitude toward Mo Hua grew even more respectful.

"Given such a connection, this old man has been rash—my sudden attack just now, please forgive me, young brother. But…"

The old man looked solemn, "Please, young brother, do not pursue the matter of Water Prison Gate any further. This matter involves too much—beyond your ability to inquire into."

Mo Hua raised an eyebrow. "Someone is hunting you?"

The old man's expression turned solemn. "I told you, young brother, please do not…"

"I can help you," said Mo Hua.

"Help me?" The old man froze, then his face darkened. "Do you know how deep the waters here are?"

Mo Hua nodded. "I know a little."

The old man sneered.

You brat, ignorant of heaven's height and earth's depth—do you think you can involve yourself in Water Prison Gate's past?

To meddle rashly would mean death without even a grave.

Mo Hua said: "In my sect, there are Void-Dwelling Ancestors, True Person elders, and many Jin Dan elders—all of whom have deep ties with me."

"Among the Shijia, I have acquaintances; in Dao Ting Si, I have friends."

"Tell me the truth, and perhaps I can help you. But if you refuse…"

Mo Hua stared at the faint black thread coiling around the old man's yintang and declared firmly: "You likely won't live past two months!"

The old man was completely awed by Mo Hua.

He had never imagined that this young cultivator, so young in appearance, had such extensive connections.

Crucially, when he spoke these words, he exuded an air of calm composure.

Without real power and influence, no one could boast so boldly.

This youth is likely a scion of a great Shijia or grand sect…

He must not be offended.

Moreover, the young boy spoke truly.

The old man knew himself—he could not keep hiding much longer before he was utterly cornered.

And his lifelong wish remained unfulfilled…

The old man's expression twisted in conflict; finally, he sighed. "Very well. Young friend, ask whatever you wish—I will tell you all I know."

"If you are willing to help afterward, that would be best; if not, please leave quietly and do not reveal my whereabouts."

"Agreed," Mo Hua nodded.

This old man, though he used underhanded tactics, was at least somewhat honest.

"You're not surnamed Zhao, are you?" Mo Hua asked.

The old man bowed his fist. "Forgive me, young friend—we've only just met; I cannot reveal my true name."

"You're surnamed Yu, too?"

The old man fell silent for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I am Yu Canghai."

"Yu Canghai…"

Mo Hua silently memorized the name and asked: "Who is hunting you?"

The old man sighed, a bitter hatred rising on his face: "It is… Gui Shui Gate…"

"Gui Shui Gate?"

Mo Hua was slightly startled.

He had not expected Gui Shui Gate to be involved.

But that didn't make sense…

Mo Hua frowned. "Did you personally see Gui Shui Gate disciples hunting you?"

The old man shook his head. "Gui Shui Gate would never act directly—they hide in the shadows. The ones who actually pursued and attacked me were mercenaries—death-seeking heretical cultivators hired by Gui Shui Gate."

Mo Hua's pupils shrank slightly. "Do you have proof?"

The old man sneered. "What proof do I need? The current high-ups of Gui Shui Gate are none other than the traitors of Water Prison Gate. They betrayed Water Prison Gate, defected to Dao Ting Si, and after Water Prison Gate's destruction, stole its legacy, changed their name, and replaced Water Prison Gate as one of today's Twelve Streams—Gui Shui Gate!"

"There is a blood feud between Gui Shui Gate and my Water Prison Gate! To cover up their past shame, these monsters of Gui Shui Gate would gladly slaughter every last descendant of Water Prison Gate!"

Mo Hua's expression remained calm, but his heart was shaken.

He had never known that such a history existed between Gui Shui Gate and Water Prison Gate.

Then, does that mean Yu family's water village is also being manipulated by Gui Shui Gate?

Mo Hua silently reflected:

"The relationships among Shijia sects are indeed intricate—without digging deep yourself, you'd never realize how many hidden connections lie beneath."

Then Mo Hua frowned again. "When Water Prison Gate fell a thousand years ago, the common account was… that your entire sect 'fell into demonic corruption.' Is that true?"

The old man said: "Absolutely not—it's a frame-up, a slander!"

His tone was utterly certain.

But when Mo Hua pressed him for details—

The old man stammered, unable to explain clearly.

Mo Hua understood roughly.

He probably didn't know the truth himself—he was merely defending his sect's honor, clinging to the belief that "my own sect must be innocent."

After all, that was over a thousand years ago; this Jin Dan could not possibly have lived that long, let alone known the details clearly.

"If the Water Prison Gate was destroyed, shouldn't everyone have been imprisoned? How could there still be disciples?"

Mo Hua asked curiously.

The old man sighed: "When the tree falls, the monkeys scatter. A sect is inherently sprawling—so many elders, disciples, and in-laws tied to various clans—it's impossible to purge everything cleanly."

"Only the main abbots, elders, and inner-disciples are hunted down and killed—to give the appearance of justice."

"Many other cultivators with distant ties simply bribe the higher-ups, beg for leniency; even the Dao Ting Si will turn a blind eye and never truly pursue them to the end."

"Some of our Yu family's cultivators survived precisely because of this…"

The old man's expression grew desolate. "But even so, we could only flee, hide our identities, and dare not return to Qian Province…"

Mo Hua asked: "Then why did you come back?"

"Because…" The old man's face darkened with sorrow. "They're almost all dead…"

"Life in exile was unbearable; then came a great calamity—almost all of the Yu family's bloodline vanished."

"Seeing our bloodline about to be extinguished and the Water Prison Gate's Dao lineage untransmitted, I had no choice but to risk returning to Qian Province, hoping to trace any surviving Yu descendants through fragments of evidence."

"Heaven did not abandon humanity—I actually found them…"

The old man's expression held no relief, only a deeper layer of anguish.

Mo Hua's pupils contracted.

The words "Yu Family Water Village" surfaced again in his mind.

His gaze toward the old man then carried a trace of pity and compassion.

What happened afterward, Mo Hua thought quietly, he could already guess.

The old man had found the Yu Family Water Village—but in doing so, he exposed it as descendants of the Water Prison Gate.

This truth may not even have been known to the people of the Yu Family Water Village themselves.

Otherwise, their ancestors' water-based Dao arts would not have lost even their names.

And this old man had found the Yu family's descendants—the ones tied to him by blood.

But it was precisely because of him that…

The Yu Family Water Village was annihilated.

The old man's expression was bleak and hopeless.

He clearly knew what he had done.

He had intended to pass on the Dao lineage, yet ended up triggering an even more complete extermination.

The struggle over Dao legacies is cold and cruel.

Overcome by inner agony, the old man spat out a mouthful of blood.

Mo Hua pulled out a pill and handed it to him. "Was this also made by the Gui Water Sect?"

The old man accepted Mo Hua's pill but did not swallow it; instead, he gritted his teeth and snarled:

"It must be the Gui Water Sect!"

"It must be those beasts!"

"One day, I will make them pay in blood—let them die without burial, and use their flesh and blood to offer to the Liezulie Sect of the Water Prison Gate!"

Mo Hua remained silent.

The old man's words sounded almost like those of a demonic cultivator.

But unless you've endured another's suffering, don't urge them to be good.

If I were reduced to his state, I might be even more cruel than he is.

"Have you ever told the Dao Ting Si about this?" Mo Hua asked again.

But at these words, the old man's expression twisted into a grotesque sneer, his voice a cold, owl-like laugh:

"Guess… why did the Gui Water Sect know my identity? Why could they track my movements? Why could they annihilate the Yu Family Water Village without a sound?"

Mo Hua's pupils trembled, a chill spreading through his heart.

"You mean…"

The old man sneered: "If you're looking for the filthiest place in this world, it's surely the Dao Ting Si…"

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