Chapter 1236: Mister Tu?

Chapter 1235: Mister Tu?

But… how could that be? Struck by tribulation lightning—how could anyone possibly survive that?

Unless…

Mo Hua’s brows furrowed. Relying on his sharp intuition toward karmic causality, he immediately had a chilling guess:

“Unless this Mister Tu… has more than one life.”

A tremor rippled through Mo Hua’s heart.

As the foremost lackey of the Great Wilderness Evil god, no one truly knew how long Mister Tu had lived, how many times he’d shed his skin, or how many bodies he’d possessed. If he could sever his fleshly form, then perhaps he could also divide his divine consciousness.

The one slain by the lightning… was merely one of his lives.

If he had others, of course he could still live on.

As long as he had a physical embryo, his memories, his inheritances, and his faith in the Evil God of the Great Wilderness remained intact—he could “live” again.

Unbelievable as it sounded, when it came to Mister Tu, it wasn’t impossible.

A centipede with a hundred legs does not stiffen even after death—one must never underestimate those old monsters who have long forsaken their humanity, yet lived on, hoarding ages of knowledge and cultivation experience.

“Didn’t think it’d turn out to be… an old acquaintance…”

Mo Hua muttered inwardly, then frowned deeper. “If it really is Mister Tu… what’s his purpose?”

“Does he still want to… resurrect the Great Wilderness Evil God?”

He’d failed in Qianxue Prefecture’s scheme—but that didn’t matter. Everyone fails sometimes. As long as one still lives, there’s always more firewood for the next blaze. Fall down, get back up; life’s path must continue.

So perhaps Mister Tu now sought to rise again in the Great Wilderness—to rearrange his chessboard and devote himself once more to the revival of his Evil Lord.

Mo Hua actually felt… a hint of respect.

For all the evil Mister Tu had done, his faith was devout—his will unyielding.

A man like that could likely succeed at anything he set his mind to…

If only he hadn’t chosen to revive the Evil God—and if only fate hadn’t placed Mo Hua in his way…

But the problem was…

The Great Wilderness—this was his Martial Uncle’s territory.

Could Mister Tu really resurrect the Great Wilderness Evil god under his Martial Uncle’s very nose?

That would be far harder than in Qianxue Prefecture—several times harder.

Mo Hua frowned again. A sudden realization struck him.

Since this was his Martial Uncle’s domain, then everything Mister Tu did—his movements, his deeds—couldn’t possibly escape his notice.

So… was Mister Tu’s behavior permitted by his Martial Uncle?

No—perhaps even further than that.

Could it be that Mister Tu’s actions… were actually directed by his Martial Uncle?

Was Mister Tu now working for him?

Mo Hua’s heart skipped a beat. He found the thought difficult to accept—but the more he considered it, the more it made sense.

And once viewed that way, many mysteries suddenly fell neatly into place.

Even events back in Qianxue Prefecture that had long puzzled him—now seemed to have an explanation.

The Shen Family Mine disaster, the sinking of the Solitary Mountain Temple—all those eerie, unsettling sensations he’d once felt…

Perhaps, behind them all, was his Martial Uncle’s invisible hand.

Even Mister Tu’s “death by lightning strike”…

The more Mo Hua thought about it, the more certain he became—his Martial Uncle had been the one pulling the strings.

That quasi–Third Grade Evil Formation that Mo Hua had detonated was powerful indeed—but would cultivators at the Nascent Soul Realm really be so helpless? They could have easily fled before losing control and triggering Heaven’s wrath.

Unless… his Martial Uncle had acted.

It was he who killed them.

And deliberately let them die amid the explosion of the Desolate Heaven Blood-Sacrifice Array that Mo Hua had accidentally unleashed—so that the karmic burden of their deaths, along with the wrath of thousands of resentful spirits, would fall squarely upon Mo Hua’s own fate.

Everything now fit perfectly.

A chill crawled down Mo Hua’s spine.

So now, Mister Tu spreading corruption and nurturing evil gods across the Great Wilderness—was that also by his Martial Uncle’s decree?

Had the former Shaman of the Great Wilderness Evil god become his Martial Uncle’s puppet?

If Mister Tu guided the Barbarian Gods’ fall… then what of the Famine Array?

Could that too be his doing—his hidden hand behind the scenes?

Mo Hua suddenly remembered—back in Qianxue Prefecture, Mister Tu’s specialty had been constructing blood-sacrifice arrays and breeding evil gods.

And now, here in the Great Wilderness, he was once again pushing forward a grand Famine Array—polluting divinity itself.

Wasn’t that… exactly his area of expertise?

Perhaps his Martial Uncle had recognized this very “talent”—

Had orchestrated Mister Tu’s “death,” only to lure what remained of him into the Great Wilderness, to help build a greater formation—

To raise famine, nurture evil gods, and spread calamity anew.

In an instant, Mo Hua connected all the threads—and his back broke out in a cold sweat.

There were so many hidden strands—so many layers he’d never considered.

His Martial Uncle’s schemes were truly fathomless.

And if these were only the plots Mo Hua could imagine… what of those beyond his comprehension?

Perhaps every unseen event bore the shadow of that man.

So this was… the infamous “Strange Daoist.”

Mo Hua’s expression grew grim.

Beside him, Lu-Gu and Chi-Feng exchanged a look—this was the first time they’d ever seen the man they regarded as both demon and god look so grave… so afraid.

Mo Hua gathered himself and turned toward Elder She.

“Mister Tu… She…”

He suddenly remembered. Back in Qianxue Prefecture, when he’d entered that accursed fishing village to save Xiao-shun and Xiao-shuizi, he’d encountered a man calling himself Master She.

That man had been imprisoned in the Dao Prison. Whether he’d survived or not, Mo Hua couldn’t recall clearly—only that this “Master She” claimed to possess a trace of royal blood from the Great Wilderness.

The surname She—if not true royalty, then at least noble servants or a Shaman clan.

And Mister Tu… had also once been a Shaman of the Great Wilderness.

By that logic, the two were indeed connected—Mister Tu could very well be this Elder She’s senior.

Mo Hua studied the elder for a moment, then asked: “That Mister Tu… your senior—what else did he tell you?”

Elder She replied, “Nothing more. The venerable one merely imparted some secret arts—taught me how to borrow power… from Heaven itself—to wield the might of spirits and gods.”

“Borrowing from ‘Heaven,’ huh…” Mo Hua’s gaze darkened.

“Or was it from the Divine Lord instead?”

Elder She froze—then his face changed dramatically.

“How… how do you know? How do you know I prayed to the Divine Lord?”

That secret had been revealed to no one. Each time he drew the sacred patterns, he’d quietly whispered the Divine Lord’s name—never aloud.

Chi-Feng sneered. “You invoke the Divine Lord’s name in secret—did you think the Lord Shaman wouldn’t know?”

Elder She’s face went pale, his faith wavering.

Mo Hua’s expression, however, turned subtly strange.

There were things he couldn’t say.

The “Divine Lord” Elder She worshipped—was actually the true Divine Lord of the Great Wilderness.

Whereas the “Divine Lord” Mo Hua preached as a Shaman—was the false one.

Every so-called miracle came not from divine blessing, but from Mo Hua’s own divine-cultivation power.

But no one knew that—and Mo Hua would never allow anyone to find out.

“Where is this senior of yours now?” Mo Hua asked.

Elder She said, “That venerable one appears and disappears like a ghost. I’ve only met him once—I do not know his whereabouts.”

Mo Hua frowned.

Another dead end.

Without finding Mister Tu, there would be no answers.

He fixed Elder She with a deep, penetrating stare.

Elder She’s gaze flickered for an instant—enough for Mo Hua to speak coldly:

“No… you’re still hiding something.”

Elder She stammered, “No, sir! Your eyes see all—I wouldn’t dare deceive you—”

Mo Hua ignored his flattery and quickly ran the causes and effects through his mind. Amid the tangle of events he soon caught a single thread of causality:

The Shugu Tribe!

To nurture an evil god, any tribe could be used. Yet the Bi Fang Tribe seemed unusually fond of the Shugu Tribe.

The ox-bone half-evil god in the Shugu Secret Tribe Division back then was very likely something the Bifang Clan had deliberately raised.

They must have plotted something within the Shugu’s sacred grounds—corrupting their Barbarian God and breeding an evil one.

Then Bi Jie led the army while Elder She pulled strings in secret—to wipe the Shugu out.

But perhaps Mister Tu had only passed along a few “tricks” of divine arrays—never the truly profound knowledge. So although Bi Fang’s men managed to raise an evil god, they had no means to control it. Thus, when their two Golden Core cultivators and two hundred soldiers entered the temple, all were slaughtered by the very abomination they’d created.

Karmic retribution, in a way.

Later, when the Shi-Gu Tribe was destroyed—though partly caused by the Shugu chief fearing Shi-Gu’s rising power, was also being manipulated behind the scenes by the Bi Fang Tribe.

But then…

“Why,” Mo Hua mused aloud, “is Bi Fang so fixated on destroying the Shugu Tribe? Why target their Barbarian God specifically for corruption?”

It wasn’t something he’d thought about before.

After all, in the Wilderness… cruelty needs no reason.

Between any two tribes, go back three generations and there are probably grudges. Whenever people live together, conflicts will arise; any conflict can turn to hatred, to battles, and eventually to all-out war between tribes.

So Mo Hua wasn’t surprised Bi Fang targeted Shugu.

After all, he’d targeted Bi Fang too, and had set traps for the Shugu tribe himself.

But now Mr. Tu’s hand appeared in this, and the matter might not be a simple tribal grudge.

A chess master never leaves useless pieces on the board.

If Martial Uncle did that, Mr. Tu would too.

He passed Divine-Dao arrays to Elder She.

Afterwards Elder She began attacking the Shugu tribe’s barbarian god.

That suggested the matter was likely Mr. Tu’s “instruction.”

He lent the Divine-Dao inheritance to Elder She so that he would attack the Shugu Tribe.

But the question was… why?

Why did Mr. Tu insist on striking the Shugu Tribe?

He must have had another aim.

Could it be… he wanted something from the Shugu Tribe?

Worse: could Martial Uncle actually want something from the Shugu Tribe?

What exactly is in the Shugu Tribe?

Mo Hua looked at Elder She and was about to ask, but then noticed Lu Gu next to him and thought better of it — he didn’t ask.

Some things he could deduce himself; he didn’t need to ask.

Even if he asked, Elder She might not tell the truth, and since it involved Mr. Tu, he needed to be more careful.

“Mr. Tu… the Shugu Tribe…” Mo Hua pondered, then pointed at Elder She and said to Chi Feng at his side, “Break his limbs — don’t let him run. Take him back and interrogate him.”

“All right.” Chi Feng nodded and immediately acted: he crippled Elder She’s limbs and chained him up.

Elder She cursed Mo Hua in his heart but did not dare speak.

Chi Feng first escorted Elder She away.

Under the night, Lu Gu’s gaze was sullen; he wanted to follow, but Mo Hua suddenly called him back.

“Lord Lu-Gu.”

Lu Gu turned and looked at Mo Hua.

Mo Hua met his gaze, seeing through Lu Gu’s intent: “This Elder She must not be killed yet.”

Lu Gu’s intent was seen through; his face showed no ripple.

Mo Hua was a “demon,” so of course he could read hearts.

But his tone was still resolute, a coldness in his eyes: “The Bi Fang Tribe plotted to kill my brother — every one of them must die.” Mo Hua said, “I still have use for this man.”

But Lu Gu remained unmoved. Something’s usefulness to Mo Hua meant nothing to him.

In other matters he might fear Mo Hua and compromise, but before the Bi Fang Tribe, which had killed his brother, he had only one choice: extermination.

He could even contain his rage and allow Mo Hua to ask questions instead of cutting Elder She down — that was already giving Mo Hua face.

Mo Hua knew Lu Gu was stubborn. His gaze flickered and he said:

“You want revenge for your brother, but have you noticed Bi Fang aren’t your true enemies? If not for Bi Fang there’d be another tribe — anyone who wanted your brother dead would eventually make it happen.”

Lu Gu’s eyes chilled and his expression darkened.

He knew who Mo Hua meant.

The Shugu Tribe’s great chieftain.

Without the chieftain’s approval and covert help, even a strong Bi Fang would not easily handle Shi-Gu’s mighty general, especially the formidable Shi-Gu.

“You want to take revenge on Bi Fang — but don’t you also want vengeance against Shugu’s great chieftain?” Mo Hua’s voice dropped. “Or are you saying you hate Bi Fang so much you’d forgive your own tribe’s great chieftain and submit to him?”

Lu Gu stared at Mo Hua, anger barely contained in his eyes.

Mo Hua said no more. After all, he wasn’t a true worldly demon; he was only at Foundation Establishment.

If Lu Gu truly flew into a rage, Mo Hua would be in danger.

Lu Gu’s expression was icy. After a moment’s thought he asked, “What does Lord Shaman mean by all this?”

Mo Hua answered plainly: “Listen to me and I can help you.”

Lu Gu’s eyelid twitched. “Help me?”

Mo Hua nodded. His voice had no hint of seduction; it was calm, yet like a demon that stirs the heart:

“I will help you break into the Shugu homeland and kill the Shugu Tribe’s great chieftain — avenge your brother.”

(End of this Chapter)