Chapter 91: Threats

Many things that happened behind the scenes, Mo Hua did not know; as for his parents, he thought he had hidden it well.

Only several days later, when Mo Shan and his wife prepared some gifts and asked Mo Hua to accompany them to deliver them to Master Chen, he realized he had failed to conceal it again.

"Rain leaves traces; geese leave sounds. Uncle Zhang was right—anything that happens always leaves traces; you may not know, but someone else will." Mo Hua sighed silently.

Mo Shan did not scold Mo Hua; he believed a true man should take responsibility and keep things hidden within his heart, not blurt everything out.

Though Mo Hua was young, he could resolve crises on his own and remain calm afterward—showing courage and responsibility—and thinking of this, Mo Shan felt a touch of satisfaction.

Liu Ruhua was both worried and heartbroken, with a hint of resentment, yet she said nothing harsh; she merely squeezed Mo Hua's small face tightly, as if that were her revenge.

The Mo family of three delivered the gifts to the Artificer's Guild.

The gifts included several large chunks of wild beef—Mo Shan had just killed two wild ox demons, selecting the thigh meat, which Liu Ruhua had spent days simmering and pickling.

Wild ox demon meat was cheap; what was costly was the pickling skill and the spirit stones spent on the stove-fire simmering. Even if one bought it outright with spirit stones, it wouldn't be cheap, and besides, Master Chen wouldn't dream of spending spirit stones on it—he had too many other uses for them.

So much wild beef, even with the Artificer's Guild's apprentices having huge appetites, would last them over a month.

Chen Dazhu and the others were stunned—they had never seen so much meat in their lives, drooling uncontrollably, wiping their mouths endlessly.

Master Chen received a large vat of wine and grinned from ear to ear.

He usually liked a sip or two, but dared not indulge—he drank it one cup at a time, counting each, wanting more yet pained by the spirit stones spent. Now, with this vat, he could sip sparingly and drink for a long time.

For two months afterward, all was quiet until Zhang Lan found Mo Hua again and said, "Qian Xing's injuries have been healed."

"Healed?"

"The Immortal City's alchemists refused to treat Qian Xing. The Qian family spent a fortune, bringing in several top-tier alchemists from outside, and after two months, they finally healed him. I heard they brewed dozens of batches of pills—no telling how many spirit herbs were consumed." Zhang Lan clicked his tongue.

"So many spirit stones…" Mo Hua felt deeply regretful—so many spirit stones wasted to save Qian Xing.

"Be careful," Zhang Lan warned.

Mo Hua thought for a moment and asked, "Qian Xing may not even know it was me who injured him—will he still come after me?"

"You refused his demand, and that's why he flew into a rage and ended up blown to that ghastly state, lying in bed for two months, spending all those spirit stones to heal. Most importantly, he lost face terribly. Whoever injured him, you're the instigator—he'll blame you in the end." Zhang Lan explained to Mo Hua.

"He was the one who tormented me first. If we're talking about instigators, isn't he the real one? Doesn't he ever reflect on his own faults?" Mo Hua said irritably.

"Family scions are spoiled from childhood; their temperaments naturally turn extreme. They never think they're wrong—everyone else is to blame. I've seen too many like him…"

Zhang Lan toyed with his wine cup. "Worse still—if he wants your life and you refuse, he'll see it as defiance and grow furious."

Mo Hua was astonished. "Such people really exist?"

"You'll meet them sooner or later," Zhang Lan said. "Not everyone in this world treats others as human beings."

Zhang Lan drained his wine and stood up. "I'm leaving. Don't worry too much about this—so many eyes are watching; the Qian family won't dare act. But Qian Xing, though a playboy, still has a touch of venom. Stay alert, just in case."

So many eyes watching… what did that mean? Who was watching?

Mo Hua wanted to ask, but Zhang Lan had already left.

Mo Hua frowned, touched the stack of arrays in his storage pouch, and the spirit liquids and spirit stones he had prepared, based on Zhang Lan's advice, to erase and confuse traces—he thought silently:

Qian Xing, you'd better not come. Otherwise, your parents may never see you again.

Afterward, whenever Mo Hua went to Master Zhuang to study arrays, repaired array patterns for others, or shopped in the marketplace, he always sensed the gazes of cultivators along the way.

They thought Mo Hua hadn't noticed, but after years of drawing arrays, his spiritual sense was far deeper than peers of the same realm—he could clearly distinguish such unhidden surveillance.

Some gazes carried malice, like venomous snakes lurking in grass, their eyes full of poison. Others merely followed orders, watching Mo Hua to track his movements.

Some were colder and more subtle; Mo Hua could only vaguely sense them, not clearly.

That meant this cultivator's spiritual sense might surpass Mo Hua's—his realm must be much higher, likely late Qi Refining.

Besides these, some gazes were kind and unhidden. Mo Hua noticed them, and when he looked back, they greeted him. They were familiar faces—neighbors, patrons of the eatery, or demon-hunters from the hunting squads.

Some he'd only seen once or twice. Others he didn't recognize, but they seemed to know him—when he looked their way, they smiled in greeting.

So that's what Zhang Lan meant by "so many eyes watching…"

Mo Hua felt both alert and warmed.

The cultivators watching Mo Hua hesitated and did not act. Just as Mo Hua began to suspect they had given up, Qian Xing himself came to find him.

Mo Hua had just left Master Zhuang and was heading home when he reached the foot of the mountain and encountered Qian Xing.

After months apart, Qian Xing looked terrible—naturally, anyone blasted at point-blank range by a ground-fire array wouldn't look good.

Some parts of his body were still bandaged, his face disfigured, and he no longer waved his gilded, tattered fan—he wore an expression as if he wanted to devour Mo Hua whole.

"Don't think having protectors means you're safe. The humiliation I suffered, I'll make you pay a hundredfold. By then, even if you beg for a quick death, you won't get it!"

"Then take care of yourself—don't die before I do," Mo Hua said, unable to help remarking on his pitiful state.

Qian Xing's expression twisted again.

Mo Hua sighed inwardly—he'd faced death before, yet his mindset was still so fragile; even a single remark could enrage him like this.

Though furious, Qian Xing dared not strike. This was the foot of the mountain, where cultivators passed by—mostly demon-hunters.

As they spoke, several demon-hunters nearby turned their gazes toward Qian Xing, sharp and piercing.

Qian Xing knew his limits. He muttered darkly, "You wait." Then he left with several Qian family disciples.

Mo Hua shook his head—he could tell this was now a fight to the death.

Why not just be a decent playboy? Enjoy food, drink, and leisure—no need to struggle for survival or worry about spirit stones. People who live too easily always end up seeking death.

Mo Hua bowed to the nearby demon-hunters and thanked them, receiving warm responses, then headed home.

On the mountain path behind him, Bai Zi Xi watched Mo Hua's back, frowning slightly, then softly spoke: "Xue Yi, find out what happened."

Xue Yi, standing behind Bai Zi Xi, nodded.