Chapter 1243: Life, Death, and the Threads of Causality

Chapter 1242: Life, Death, and the Threads of Causality

“You… you…” The Shugu Ancestor’s voice was trembling.

Mo Hua said solemnly, “It’s not me, I was just asking casually… understand? Just a casual question.”

The Shugu Ancestor looked into Mo Hua’s eyes—brilliant as the stars, sharp as divine swords—and how could he not understand the meaning behind them?

He quickly nodded. “I understand, I understand.”

Mo Hua asked again, “You really understand?”

The ancestor nodded seriously.

“Then… about what I just asked, is there a way?” Mo Hua asked in a low voice.

The Shugu Ancestor frowned. Though half his face was already rotten, what was left still wrinkled tightly together.

“This kind of matter…”

He started speaking, but the words choked off midway.

Mo Hua pressed him, “Aren’t you yourself half-dead and half-alive? In other words, you’re existing right on the boundary between ‘life’ and ‘death.’ Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about ‘resurrecting from death’?”

The Shugu Ancestor smiled bitterly. “Thought about it? Of course. Who wouldn’t? To break through the boundary of life and death, to attain undying longevity—who wouldn’t desire that? The more one has died before, the more one has tasted the void of eternity, the more one fears death… and the more one refuses to die.”

“But this… is not the same thing.”

Mo Hua asked, “How is it different?”

The ancestor pondered for a while, then sighed. “Daoist friend, have you heard the saying ‘When the body dies, the Dao perishes’?”

Mo Hua nodded.

There was probably no cultivator who hadn’t heard those four words.

The Shugu Ancestor said, “Those words actually have a deep meaning. ‘When the body dies’—that refers to one’s life ending, lifespan exhausted, the limit reached, the body decaying. That much is simple.”

“But ‘when the Dao perishes’—that has two meanings. One: after death, the ‘Dao’ you pursued in life naturally dissipates.”

“The other refers to having your vitality erased by the Great Dao itself—in other words, being struck from Heaven’s register.”

Mo Hua frowned. “Struck from the register?”

“Yes,” said the ancestor. “Every being’s life and death—no, not only humans, but all things—are predetermined. All life and death are recorded within the eternal Heavenly Dao. As the sun and moon alternate, as the seasons pass, the cycle turns naturally. Once a being exceeds its allotted span, Heaven decrees its end—the thing fades away, and the person dies.”

“In simpler terms,” Mo Hua said, “all living beings, including humans, have something like a ‘household registration,’ and Heaven keeps the record. Once someone dies, Heaven ‘erases their record’?”

The Shugu Ancestor nodded approvingly. “Daoist friend truly has remarkable insight—one touch and you grasp it. So, ‘when the body dies and the Dao perishes’ could also be called ‘when the body dies, the Dao is erased.’”

Mo Hua looked at him and asked, “Then you—being half-dead, half-alive—what are you in Heaven’s eyes?”

The Shugu Ancestor said, “I… am an unregistered soul.”

“Unregistered?” Mo Hua was slightly taken aback.

The ancestor nodded gravely. “Yes, an unregistered one. I have indeed died—my lifespan exhausted, my name erased from Heaven’s register. I exist now only through unspeakable means, clinging to existence. But this ‘clinging’ is not truly living. At best, it’s hiding in the grey zones of Heaven’s notice, eking out a pitiful survival.”

Mo Hua frowned. “Then you, this unregistered soul—don’t you want to be reinstated?”

The Shugu Ancestor’s face twisted in horror. “Heaven is utterly impartial; its laws of life and death are strict beyond measure. How could that be easy? The only reason I can persist in this half-man, half-corpse state is because I keep quiet—humble and hidden, never daring to show myself.”

“Otherwise, if I ever overstep and Heaven senses this ‘unregistered’ being at the border of life and death—I’d be annihilated.”

Mo Hua asked, “Didn’t you attempt to curse and kill me? Isn’t that overstepping?”

The ancestor looked embarrassed. “That was bound by a blood pact—I had no choice. And… strictly speaking, that wasn’t ‘killing,’ but rather… ‘exchanging life.’”

“Exchanging life?” Mo Hua’s eyes narrowed in curiosity.

The ancestor pointed at Tie Shù-Gu’s corpse. “My descendant used his life to exchange for yours. His lifespan was not yet over; by dying prematurely, he repaid a bit of Heaven’s ‘interest in life.’ I then intercepted that ‘interest,’ using it through karmic conversion to harm you… Of course, my cultivation is meager—such a karmic curse can’t injure your flawless golden body.”

Mo Hua ignored the flattery and asked instead, “So his life can be exchanged for mine? One life for one life? Then…”

The Shugu Ancestor shook his head before Mo Hua could finish. “Naturally, it’s not that simple. There are countless restrictions—bloodline connection, complicated rites, and intricate karmic bindings. In practice, it’s far more complex than a simple ‘life for a life.’ If it were that easy, killing would be trivial.”

Mo Hua pressed further, “To become this kind of ‘unregistered soul,’ what methods are involved?”

The ancestor hesitated. “That… is the Shugu Tribe’s core secret. Forgive me, but even if I die again, I cannot reveal it.”

Mo Hua’s expression darkened.

The ancestor quickly added, “Even if I told you, you couldn’t learn it—nor use it.”

“Why not?” Mo Hua asked.

The ancestor countered, “Daoist friend, are you married?”

The childlike Mo Hua shook his head.

“Then you have no offspring, correct?”

Mo Hua nodded.

“That’s it, then,” said the ancestor. “This method requires living descendants—and it’s… rather vile. Daoist friend, your spirit is pure as jade, your divine body spotless, golden light faintly visible—you surely would not stoop to such dark and sinister arts.”

“So it requires children…” Mo Hua murmured regretfully. He had never taken a Dao companion, nor had offspring—so there was nothing to work with.

In that case, the Shugu Tribe’s secret method was of no use to him.

And judging by this ancestor’s half-dead, pitiful state, it was clear the technique demanded that one have descendants, establish a clan, die, and then be resurrected through their sacrifice—much like Tie Shù-Gu’s self-offering. A desperate, borrowed method of extending life.

Forcing one’s own descendants to die for resurrection—Mo Hua would never do such a thing.

Besides, this was ultimately a “black-market” loophole—an act to evade Heaven’s inspection.

Such a method could never save his master—and time was short anyway.

Mo Hua asked, “Is there no more complete method?”

The ancestor frowned. “Daoist friend means…”

Mo Hua said, “Not me—let’s say another ‘friend of mine,’ he’s more interested in such things. So I’m just asking if there’s a way to…”

His voice deepened slightly. “…to re-register an unregistered soul, to live openly under Heaven’s gaze.”

The ancestor took a sharp breath—his entire being frozen in dread.

Indeed.

This childlike monster truly harbored such heaven-defying ambitions.

He himself merely skirted the forbidden boundaries, stealing a few breaths of life from the shadows.

But this one—he didn’t want to steal life. He wanted to overturn the Great Dao itself—to reverse yin and yang, to defy life and death.

No doubt, that was why he’d followed the karmic threads from the blood pact, tracking the Shugu lineage all the way here.

The ancestor trembled. He’d always thought himself bold for manipulating karma and sealing life and death for his own survival.

But there’s always someone crazier above the crazy.

Someone who truly believed they could defy the law of life and death.

In sheer ambition, this youth was in no way lesser than—

The ancestor suddenly halted his thoughts, not daring to continue. As he looked at Mo Hua, an even more terrifying realization surged up in his mind, his heart pounding like roaring waves.

“Speak…”

A crisp voice pulled him back to reality. Mo Hua was watching him.

The ancestor sighed heavily. “Such a matter touches on life and death itself, involving the Great Dao of karma. It’s not something a mere third-grade peak cultivator like me—half-dead as I am—could ever comprehend.”

He looked utterly helpless.

Mo Hua was dissatisfied with the answer, though upon reflection, it made sense.

If the Shugu Ancestor truly knew how to “re-register” himself, he wouldn’t still be an unregistered soul, hiding underground and occasionally awakened by his descendants—only to suffer misfortune when Mo Hua traced him here through karmic threads.

Still, Mo Hua was not entirely willing to give up.

He was a curious soul—greedy for knowledge.

Even if a dog passed by him, he’d probably stop it for a few questions.

Having the Shugu Ancestor in his grasp, he naturally felt obliged to “extract” something out of him.

After all, anyone who could dwell between life and death was no ordinary being.

Mo Hua thought for a moment, eyes glinting faintly. “You’re the ancestor of the Shugu Tribe, skilled in curse arts—your comprehension of causality must be quite deep, right?”

The ancestor said carefully, “Not exactly…”

In front of someone who could trace him through karmic threads, he didn’t dare claim mastery.

Mo Hua said humbly, “It’s fine. My own understanding of causality isn’t too profound either. Let’s exchange some insights—mutual progress.”

The Shugu Ancestor had no desire to exchange anything.

Mo Hua ignored his reluctance and continued, “I’ll start first. To cast a brick and attract jade, as they say. Causality, in essence, is the power of illusion and reality. Everything in existence carries causality—every person, every event. Small causes create small effects; when people and events multiply, causality magnifies. The causality that encompasses all living beings… that is what we call Heaven’s Secrets…”

The Shugu Ancestor’s heart suddenly trembled at Mo Hua’s words—“Causality, in essence, is the power of illusion and reality.”

Those exact words… an ancient elder had once told him long ago.

He’d spent half a lifetime pondering them before barely grasping a fraction of their meaning—why “illusion and reality” instead of simply “illusion” or “reality.” Why it was neither purely false nor purely true, but the union of the two. The difference of a single word, but a chasm of understanding.

Yet this youth—this two-hundred-year-old young Daoist—had casually spoken the phrase aloud, with full comprehension in his tone.

And judging from his tone and expression, it was clear: he truly understood it. Not mere mindless parroting.

The rest of his explanation, about karma and Heaven’s Secret, was lofty and abstract—too grand for most of the karmic cultivators to even attempt.

The ancestor wanted to hear more, curious to see what other profound insight Mo Hua might reveal.

But Mo Hua had already stopped, staring at him with bright, star-like piercing eyes—eyes that clearly said: I’ve said my piece. Your turn.

The Shugu Ancestor’s skull tingled all over.

At last, he understood what Mo Hua meant earlier by “tossing a brick to attract jade.”

It meant Mo Hua had thrown out a “brick,” and now he was expected to bring forth the “jade.”

And with Mo Hua opening the topic by mentioning such lofty concepts—causality, illusion and reality, Heaven’s Secrets—how could his own “exchange” be meager? He’d have to produce something comparably profound just to save face.

Mo Hua looked at him expectantly.

After a pause, the Shugu Ancestor carefully spoke a few words about the “barriers of karmic arts,” but halfway through, Mo Hua shook his head. “Think again. That’s too shallow—it doesn’t suit the level of either of us.”

The Shugu Ancestor’s skull tightened in pain. After thinking a moment, he spoke again—this time about deeper principles, such as the parallel relationships within karmic techniques.

Mo Hua still shook his head, disappointed. “I didn’t come here to chat about surface-level stuff.”

Forced to continue, the Shugu Ancestor sighed and said,

“My humble lineage once passed down a few arts of karmic divination and side-path curses—foretelling the future, avoiding misfortune, cursing others to death… The highest-level secrets can’t be spoken of, but I can share some of the middle and lower-tier techniques, if Daoist friend would care to exchange insights.”

Mo Hua’s heart stirred.

He definitely wanted that!

His comprehension of karmic principles was strong—but when it came to practical applications, especially methods of manipulation, he was sorely lacking.

Compared to most karmic cultivators, he was already formidable—but next to someone like this Ancestor, capable of curse-killing, he was clearly still a level below.

Glancing at the Shugu Ancestor, Mo Hua’s instincts told him the old thing was still holding back—this wasn’t his bottom line. There was definitely more to squeeze out.

So, after a moment’s thought, Mo Hua put on a stern expression tinged with displeasure.

“I’ve treated you sincerely—shared all my two hundred years of cultivation insights with you—and you’re still hiding things? Are you not treating me as a Daoist friend?”

The Shugu Ancestor felt enormous pressure. After a long sigh, he gave a bitter smile.

“It’s not that I wish to withhold, but some of my insights were personally derived after eight hundred years of contemplation. They’re not from any orthodox inheritance, hardly worthy of mention—and may not even be correct. If they happen to align with the Dao, that’s fortune; if they deviate, speaking them aloud might invite ridicule.”

Mo Hua smiled benevolently. “It’s fine. I won’t laugh. Go ahead and tell me.”

The Shugu Ancestor nodded. “Then… allow this old man to boldly discuss the karmic understanding I’ve pursued my whole life…”

Mo Hua nodded, finally satisfied, sitting up straighter, eager to listen.

The Shugu Ancestor grew solemn, speaking slowly:

“All things in the world contain causality. Fools deem it mysterious; the wise perceive its profundity. Only great beings can, by the laws of karma, create methods to peer into Heaven’s Secrets, divine fortune and disaster, preserve life, or curse others to death.”

“And all those laws and methods—when stripped to their essence—are nothing but the karmic thread.”

“Causality may seem abstract, its expressions innumerable—but beneath them all lies manipulation of the karmic line itself.”

As he said this, the Shugu Ancestor raised his half-rotted hand, drawing a faint gesture with his fingertip—pulling forth a blood-colored filament.

“This thread cannot be seen by mortal eyes, but with Daoist friend’s gaze, you should see it clearly… This is the substance of a karmic line.”

He smoothed the thread lightly. “To be honest, this one here—I’ve just drawn from your own fate.”

“This is your Thread of Life.”

Mo Hua blinked. “My thread of life?”

The Shugu Ancestor nodded. “Indeed.” Then continued:

“If your karma flows along this thread, it forms a path of life.”

“But… if this thread breaks—then that life-path breaks as well.”

As he spoke, he casually pinched the karmic thread—and snapped it.

Mo Hua was startled. He glanced down at himself, then at the Ancestor, frowning. “Are you tricking me? You just snapped my life thread, yet I’m still alive.”

The Shugu Ancestor smiled wryly, thinking, If I could truly kill you by snapping it, I would’ve done so long ago and saved myself this torment.

He sighed. “Snapping one life thread won’t kill you. You’re young, vigorous, with profound cultivation and strong will—your life threads may number ten, a hundred, even a thousand. Losing one still leaves many sources of vitality.”

“But for those old and frail cultivators—or those at death’s door, who have but a single remaining strand of life—cutting that one thread means the end of their path, death of body and Dao alike.”

Mo Hua suddenly understood.

No wonder the Shugu Great Chieftain had been so easily predicted to death—he was old, his lifetime of scheming and enemies had already frayed his karmic lines to almost nothing.

The Shugu Ancestor continued, “Thus, from the perspective of karma, cursing a vigorous, fortunate cultivator is extremely difficult. But cursing an aged cultivator steeped in evil karma is much easier.”

“This is the logic behind curse-killing—and many other karmic arts can likewise be understood through the concept of karmic lines.”

Mo Hua asked, “Such as?”

“For example…” said the Shugu Ancestor, “Causal Divination, Causal Defense, Causal Fate-Alteration, Causal Avoidance, and…”

He paused, then spoke slowly,

“Causal Transference.”

(End of this Chapter)