Chapter 838: Lantern Festival

With a self-created Seven Souls Startling-God Sword Art that fused the Grand Void Gate's Startling-God Sword Form with the Water Prison Sect's Seven Souls Blood Prison Array, Mo Hua defeated a single big white dog, and returned triumphant amid Yu'er's admiring gaze.

But once he got back, he suffered for it.

His divine soul ached terribly.

And it wasn't the ache of depleted spiritual sense—it was pain from the root, the wear of the divine soul itself, the shaking of the seven souls.

"I overreached…"

Mo Hua regretted it deeply.

"If only I'd known not to push so hard… what on earth is that dumb big white dog? How is it so powerful…"

Mo Hua clutched his head, curled up on the bed, in so much pain he couldn't even move.

This won't do.

With the seven souls worn and the life-soul unstable, if this kept up and one soul shattered and the life-soul was wounded, he'd probably end up an idiot…

Think of something…

Mo Hua endured the searing pain, focused his mind, sank his spiritual sense into the sea of consciousness, and then meditated in stillness.

But meditation didn't work.

He tried sensing the Dao Stele again, but the Dao Stele contained the profound meaning of the Great Dao and could ward off evil and suppress the uncanny—yet it could not repair his damaged divine soul.

Mo Hua tried many methods, none of which worked; his divine-thought avatar also felt as if it were being cut by blades.

The divine-thought avatar is born of the divine soul.

When the divine soul is injured, the avatar naturally suffers damage too.

Fine cracks had already appeared on the avatar—the mark of injury after the divine soul clashed with another.

Mo Hua frowned.

Just then, a thought struck him: he noticed that not every part of his divine-thought avatar bore cracks.

The pale-gold areas were perfectly intact.

The richer the gold, the more stable the avatar.

That pale gold was… divine marrow!

Mo Hua's heart tightened. With no time to worry about anything else, he could only mobilize the divine marrow within his avatar, turning it into thread-like "blood" that coursed through his whole body.

The radiant divine marrow flowed through Mo Hua's body like molten gold.

Wherever it touched the cracks on the divine-thought avatar—cracks born of the divine-soul clash—it seeped in thread by thread, "mending" those wounds.

The pain in his divine soul eased as well.

Mo Hua let out a breath of relief.

Then, without delay, Mo Hua mobilized every last bit of divine marrow he had stockpiled, circulating it within his divine-thought avatar to repair the wounds on his divine soul.

The pale-gold divine marrow was consumed bit by bit.

The cracks on the divine-thought avatar were also mended bit by bit.

After a long while, Mo Hua opened his eyes and let out a long breath.

The pain in his divine sense had eased, and the cracks were mostly repaired; only a lingering soreness remained, impossible to shake off.

And through it all, he confirmed one thing:

The wounds on the divine soul could be mended with "divine marrow."

Mo Hua's brow furrowed slightly…

Elder Xun Zixian had once said that a cultivator's spiritual sense is a derivative of the cultivator's divine soul.

By that logic, a deity's divine marrow is likewise a derivative of the deity's divine soul?

Besides giving rise to thought-power, can a deity's divine soul also give rise to divine marrow?

Just as a cultivator's heart holds blood, and also essence-blood?

And because a deity's divine soul and a cultivator's are fundamentally different, whether one can give rise to divine marrow marks the most essential distinction between deity and cultivator?

Then in that case, what exactly is divine marrow…?

Is it soul, or is it thought-power?

Or the materialization of the laws of the Great Dao?

And what exactly is a deity's divine soul, and how does it differ from a cultivator's?

The more Mo Hua knew, the more questions he had.

He could only press these questions down for now, saving them to ponder slowly in the future as his cultivation experience grew.

For now, he understood only one thing:

From now on, he had to stockpile more divine marrow.

The more, the better.

Divine marrow was needed for Dao-ifying spiritual sense, for breaking through bottlenecks in cultivation methods, and even for divine-soul combat—he'd have to keep plenty of divine marrow on hand as "medicine" for wounds.

A genuine cure-all.

And in this battle with the big white dog, the injury to his divine soul and the mending of that divine wound had consumed nearly half of all the divine marrow Mo Hua had painstakingly devoured up to now.

Inside his divine-thought avatar, the gold marrow—fine as blood threads—had faded considerably. In some places, it had even regressed toward silver.

Mo Hua felt a touch of crisis.

A cultivator can only move forward—how could he afford to fall back?

He had to keep eating.

Eat thought-power to nourish spiritual sense.

Eat divine marrow to nourish the divine soul.

The path of cultivation has no end—one cannot slack off in the slightest!

Mo Hua rallied his spirits.

But now he could not push himself—he had just repaired his soul, still lingering with pain, and dared not use it lightly again.

At last, he truly understood why the sect had utterly severed the transmission of "Soul-Nerve Sword Formation," forbidding disciples from learning this sword art.

Soul damage is no joke.

Only because he walked the Path of Soul Awareness, had a solid foundation, knew many soul techniques, had some strokes of fortune, and received "meals" from the demon god, could he somewhat offset the drawbacks.

Otherwise, "Soul-Nerve Sword Formation" was in truth "Life-Soul Sword Formation"—literally using one's "life" to slash at others; the stronger the sword, the greater the peril to one's life.

"I must use this technique cautiously from now on."

If I can avoid it, I will avoid it—otherwise, even if I don't harm my soul, I'll damage my soul marrow, and that would hurt me deeply.

Soul marrow is not easily obtained.

The world is not full of "kind-hearted" beings, demon gods napping and delivering soul marrow to him.

Then again…

The white dog that once matched him evenly in soul-nerve combat—seems truly not ordinary…

Mo Hua rubbed his chin.

The next day, Mo Hua bought several chicken legs from the dining hall, then went again to that secluded library.

Before the library, the white dog was still there.

But it had lost its former arrogance; the whole dog was listless, lacking any energy, clearly suffering greatly.

Seeing no one around, and assuming the sect master was not present, Mo Hua slipped over stealthily.

The white dog spotted Mo Hua and immediately perked up.

But Mo Hua handed over the several large chicken legs and said earnestly, "I admit—you're still very powerful."

The dog froze.

"No fight, no friendship. These chicken legs are my greeting gift," Mo Hua said.

Though called "large chicken legs," they still looked small beside the white dog—but their color, aroma, and taste were perfect, skin crisp, meat tender, Mo Hua's favorite.

After a moment's hesitation, the dog glanced at Mo Hua, then silently swallowed the chicken legs, accepting the "greeting gift."

Mo Hua beamed and extended his hand.

"Let's make peace!"

The white dog was reluctant.

But it had lost, eaten the chicken legs, and Mo Hua had given it full face—it reluctantly extended its massive paw, placing it in Mo Hua's palm, and shook once.

This was mutual recognition between soul-path masters.

Mo Hua nodded, deeply satisfied.

Inside the library, the Grand Void Sect master—who had been there all along—witnessed Mo Hua and the "dog" shaking hands, and couldn't help but stare blankly; his expression grew increasingly strange…

…

Afterward, Mo Hua occasionally visited the white dog, bringing it food.

The man and the dog had grown familiar.

But for a long time, the white dog remained listless, lacking energy.

Mo Hua could do nothing about it.

During this time, Mo Hua was busy studying the Shock-Soul Sword and the Seven Soul Blood Prison Eye Technique on the Water Prison Casket, and unconsciously forgot about Water Yama.

But he forgot—others did not.

Dao Ting Si was still investigating.

Several days later, Gu Diansi sent Mo Hua a message: "We have news on Water Yama."

Mo Hua was startled, then delighted.

Indeed, knowing many people is advantageous—what you can't do, others do for you.

Mo Hua hurriedly asked: "Where is Water Yama?"

Gu Diansi: "On a Crimson Boat."

"Crimson Boat…" Mo Hua's gaze paused.

Gu Diansi continued: "Dao Ting Si has been tracking Water Yama's trail. He lost an arm, suffered grave injuries, was rescued, and all land routes were sealed. Every island in the Yan Shui River has been searched. The only possible hiding places are on water—and only on boats…"

"Recently, a source obtained word that Water Yama's hiding place is precisely the Crimson Boat secretly operated by the Qian Shui Sect."

Gu Diansi paused, then asked Mo Hua: "You're familiar with Crimson Boats, right?"

Mo Hua fell silent for a moment.

Crimson Boat…

As for knowing it—he did know, perhaps even seen it in person.

But the specific details—he truly knew nothing.

Moreover, under these circumstances, facing a Dao Ting Si Commandant, even if he truly knew, he certainly could not admit it.

"Not very familiar," Mo Hua said.

Gu Diansi didn't care whether Mo Hua was truly unfamiliar or feigning ignorance—he sent another message:

"The term 'Crimson Boat' has been on Dao Ting Si's wanted list for decades."

Mo Hua froze.

Gu Diansi continued: "It is a fully established brothel network tied to the Yan Shui River, led by the Qian Shui Sect, with numerous sects and clans pulling strings behind the scenes."

"These factions are all on the same rope, feasting greedily on this illicit trade."

"But…"

Gu Diansi sighed, "Dao Ting Si cannot act. This time we could investigate only because the Xia Clan is leading it, borrowing Dao Ting Si's authority…"

Mo Hua suddenly understood.

He had thought: something like the Crimson Boat could never be unknown to the Dao Ting Si—yet if they truly wanted to investigate, they'd face immense resistance.

【13】 At least, under the watch of powerful clans, the Dao Ting Si of this prefecture alone could never manage it.

At the very least, surrounded as they were by the great clans, relying solely on the strength of this prefecture's Dao Ting Si would definitely not be enough.

Add to that the Dao Ting Si's own bloated ranks and internal scheming—any real action became nearly impossible.

Uncle Gu had it tough too…

"Where is the Crimson Boat of the Gui Shui Sect hidden?" Mo Hua asked.

"We don't know yet," Gu Changhuai said. "The Gui Shui Sect's Crimson Boats are mixed among vessels of various sects, clans, merchant ferries, and spirit boats—power structures entangled beyond detection."

"Earlier, with the crackdown intensifying, the Gui Shui Sect lay low for a while. But the Dao Ting Si has just received fresh intelligence: in a few days, the Gui Shui Sect will seize an opportunity to hold another Crimson Boat gathering."

"Another one?" Mo Hua frowned. "Aren't they afraid the Dao Ting Si will catch them?"

Gu Changhuai pondered. "Publicly, the Dao Ting Si crushed a group of river bandits and reported it as a success; after that, their actions grew quiet, no further commotion. The Gui Shui Sect likely thinks the storm has passed, so they're stirring again."

"It's always been like this—when higher-ups investigate, it's just a show, a warning to others. The Gui Shui Sect probably assumes this time is no different."

"That's only one reason. The other…"

Gu Changhuai sighed. "You're not from a clan, so you don't understand… A big ship is hard to turn."

"When a family grows large, with countless entanglements and deep-rooted interests, once interests become entrenched, they can no longer be changed."

"This trade makes spirit stones too easily."

"From top to bottom, the Gui Shui Sect depends entirely on this pleasure industry—it feeds on blood. If it stops, the sect will collapse into chaos at once."

"Like drinking poison to quench thirst—using poison to stop thirst. Someday, it will surely kill them. But if they don't drink the poison, they die immediately."

"So the Gui Shui Sect can only grit their teeth and keep walking forward—there's no turning back…"

…

Mo Hua fell silent, deeply moved.

Perhaps not just the Gui Shui Sect—every force in the cultivation world operates this way.

Once greed takes hold and the first step is misstepped, one is drawn deeper by profit, stumbling further with each step.

Until finally, the error is irrevocable—even if everyone knows it's wrong, the interests are too deeply rooted to be undone.

In the end, all can only watch helplessly as a towering edifice slowly collapses, crushing everyone beneath it.

In the Gui Shui Sect, even those with conscience must feel this way…

Mo Hua sighed.

After a moment's thought, he asked: "Uncle Gu, do you know exactly when the Gui Shui Sect will hold the Crimson Boat? Any leads?"

"We have some…"

"What leads?"

Gu Changhuai didn't hide anything from Mo Hua: "Three days from now, during Yanshui City's annual lantern festival, cultivators will gather as usual to release river lanterns, ride pleasure boats, and cruise the Yanshui River. According to Dao Ting Si intelligence, the Gui Shui Sect will mix their Crimson Boats among the pleasure vessels, set them adrift on the river, then divert at a predetermined route to converge at their destination and begin their pleasure trade…"

"So that's how it is… they've got quite the tricks…" Mo Hua muttered, then immediately sensed something odd. "Uncle Gu, why are you telling me this?"

"Don't you want to know?"

"I do—but…"

Normally, Uncle Gu kept things hidden, only revealing them when pressed beyond endurance. Why was he acting so unusual today?

Something strange must be afoot.

"Are you asking me for a favor?" Mo Hua asked sharply.

Gu Changhuai sighed.

It's good that the boy is clever—but too clever, and he becomes unlikable.

"It's not a 'favor,'" Gu Changhuai insisted. "It's a Dao Ting Si assignment."

Mo Hua raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What exactly are you asking me to do?"

Gu Changhuai no longer corrected his wording. "You have to go undercover…"

"There are two types of Crimson Boats: one for sect disciples to play on, another for cultivators from various clans to indulge in."

"To avoid gaps, we need insiders on both kinds of boats."

"I can infiltrate the clan cultivators' vessels. But I have no reliable eyes on the sect disciples' boats."

Originally, Gu Changhuai had planned to send someone from the Shanggu family or his own Gu family.

But those disciples either had sufficient cultivation but lacked alertness, or were clever but weak in power. In terms of stealth, infiltration, and intelligence-gathering experience, they were worlds apart from Mo Hua.

Moreover, he couldn't trust many sect disciples—including those from the Shanggu and Gu clans themselves.

After much thought, Gu Changhuai realized Mo Hua was the most reliable option.

"Go undercover. If you find anything, tell me. Even if I didn't tell you, you'd find your way aboard anyway…" Gu Changhuai said.

Mo Hua nodded. True enough—Uncle Gu understood him well.

He would go aboard the Crimson Boat, no doubt.

But he had one concern.

"Uncle Gu, the Crimson Boat… isn't that the kind of place? If I'm going to investigate, you need to give me a 'certificate.'"

Gu Changhuai blinked. "What certificate?"

"A document," Mo Hua said, "from the Dao Ting Si, officially recording that I boarded the boat to assist in your investigation—not because I wanted to have fun!"

Otherwise, if the Dao Ting Si launched a vice sweep and caught him too, his face would be lost forever.

Gu Changhuai paused, then sighed helplessly.

He had to admit—Mo Hua's concern was… surprisingly reasonable, flawless.

"Fine," Gu Changhuai agreed.

"How do I get aboard?" Mo Hua asked again.

"You figure it out yourself," Gu Changhuai said.

With Mo Hua's cunning, he could surely slip in—Gu Changhuai wasn't worried at all.

"If you need anything, let me know."

After saying this, Gu Changhuai said no more.

But Mo Hua was pondering inside: how exactly could he sneak onto the Vermilion Boat?

"Yanshui City, lantern festival, Vermilion Boat…"

After much thought, Mo Hua decided he'd have to rely on Hao Xuan and Wang Chen of the Gui Shui Men.

In the following days, he prepared for this matter.

With Hao Xuan's help, he contacted Wang Chen of the Gui Shui Men, gathered some leads, prepared arrays and pills, and set off on his day off.

He first went to the Gu family to discuss details with Gu Changhuai, then planned to head straight to Yanshui City.

But before he could leave the Gu family's gate, he was blocked by Elder Gu Hong.

Elder Gu Hong pulled Mo Hua aside into a small pavilion and said sternly, "Are you and Changhuai in cahoots, hiding something from me?"

Mo Hua's heart tightened. "You figured it out?"

Indeed, the old ginger is the hottest.

Elder Gu Hong snorted. "Spill it. What's going on?"

"It's nothing major…" Mo Hua chuckled awkwardly.

Elder Gu Hong might not know about the Vermilion Boat.

What she cared about was surely Gu Uncle's matchmaking.

After a moment's thought, Mo Hua said:

"Gu Uncle came to me and made a deal—I'll handle the matchmaking for you, and in return, if Dao Ting Si assigns him any duties, he'll take me along to earn merit."

Mo Hua immediately sold out Gu Changhuai and dumped the blame on him.

Elder Gu Hong grew angry. "Taking you to earn merit? That's his duty. But he's sending a child like you to deceive me just to avoid matchmaking? Gu Changhuai is regressing—he's become Dao Diansi and thinks he's got wings. Just wait, I'll peel his skin off…"

Elder Gu Hong rose in fury.

Mo Hua quickly grabbed her arm. "Elder Gu, don't rush—this is actually good."

Elder Gu Hong gave Mo Hua a sharp look. "How is this good?"

"Think about it," Mo Hua glanced around and whispered, "if Gu Uncle refuses matchmaking and you force him, the more you push, the more he resists—doesn't that backfire? Let me help you secretly."

Elder Gu Hong blinked. "You'll help me?"

Mo Hua nodded. "I'll help you—if there's a suitable older sister or aunt, I can arrange a match for Gu Uncle…"

Elder Gu Hong still hesitated.

Mo Hua seized the chance to ask: "What about that Flower Instructor? Don't you think she's good?"

Elder Gu Hong hesitated, then frowned. "I looked into her—there's something off about her…"

"What's off?" Mo Hua asked.

"She's always acting furtive, heavy with cosmetics, her aura is muddled—she might be… a bit loose."

Elder Gu Hong's words were blunt.

But in her eyes, Mo Hua was like a nephew, so she had no reservations.

To reassure Elder Gu Hong, Mo Hua whispered slyly:

"Elder Gu, actually… I've found someone for you—someone perfectly suited to Gu Uncle…"

Elder Gu Hong's eyes lit up. "Who?"

"I can't tell you yet…" Mo Hua teased.

"You little rascal…"

Elder Gu Hong sighed helplessly, then smiled. "Fine, I won't ask. Do your best—if this works, the Gu family will be your own home. Any trouble…"

She paused, realizing she'd spoken too boldly, then corrected herself: "... as long as it's not a crime against Dao Ting Si, any trouble—I'll back you up!"

Mo Hua's face brightened. "Thank you, Elder Gu!"

After a few more casual words, Mo Hua took leave of Elder Gu Hong and left Qingzhou City, arriving in Gui Shui City.

In Gui Shui City, Mo Hua met Wang Chen, confirmed the information, then reunited with Hao Xuan, Cheng Mo, and Sister Situ.

The group then set off in a carriage toward the third-grade Xiancheng—Yanshui City.

Meanwhile, Yanshui City's annual lantern festival had already begun, drawing cultivators from all directions.

The city held local Yanshui cultivators, visiting cultivators, cultivators from various noble families.

And countless disciples from sects across Qianxue Province…

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