Chapter 1292: Weaving of Fate Patterns

Chapter 1291: Weaving of Fate Patterns

“Lord Divine-Shaman…”

Tie Shù-Gu bowed to Mo Hua.

Mo Hua asked him, “Did your Shù-Gu Tribe ancestors always weave straw-dogs from the same variety of Human-Cloth Grass for sacrificial purposes?”

Tie Shù-Gu pondered for a moment, then shook his head. “Not necessarily…”

Mo Hua remained silent.

Tie Shù-Gu continued, “In ancient times, Human-Cloth Grass grew all over the mountains. Our ancestors used this grass to weave straw-dogs for sacrifices.”

“But over the past thousand years, with changes in the climate, the quantity of Human-Cloth Grass has dwindled, becoming increasingly rare.”

“Many tribes, in order to emulate the old ways and preserve certain causal inheritances linked to Human-Cloth Grass from vanishing in the history of the Great Wilderness, each retained and cultivated various strains. Therefore, depending on the region and tribe, the varieties of Human-Cloth Grass differ greatly.”

These were pieces of knowledge known only to tribal ancestors; ordinary barbarian cultivators would hardly be aware of them.

Mo Hua frowned. “So, you’re saying there are actually many types of Human-Cloth Grass?”

Tie Shù-Gu said, “Yes.”

Mo Hua nodded slightly, understanding dawning in his mind.

Cultivators seeking truth divided studies according to the ancestors’ research into four aspects: Dao, Law, Technique, and Vessel.

This was something he had learned while studying at the Great Void Sect.

Even long ago, his master had vaguely mentioned it.

At that time, Mo Hua was still young, and Master Zhuang had only touched upon it lightly.

Now, with more experience, more learning, and more insight, Mo Hua could grasp the essence of these four words.

Dao and Law belong to the realm of “divine-sense consciousness.”

Vessel is a concept of the “material” realm.

Technique represents the connection between “divine sense” and “material.”

Mo Hua’s Dao-heart was strong, his understanding of laws profound, and his Technique well-practiced. But in his youth, due to poverty, he often neglected the concept of “Vessel.”

Yet Vessel is the medium for Dao and Law, as well as the means through which Technique is realized—the material foundation.

The key to understanding the Great Wilderness Straw-Dog Fate technique likely lay in this one aspect, the “Vessel” he had previously overlooked.

After a moment of contemplation, Mo Hua said to Tie Shù-Gu:

“In the name of Divine-Shaman, go collect all existing Human-Cloth Grass from the mountain realms and tribes of the Great Wilderness, and hand it over to me. This matter is extremely urgent…”

Mo Hua glanced at Tie Shù-Gu and added, “…This is related to the Great Wilderness Straw-Dog Fate Technique.”

This straw-dog fate technique was originally a legacy of the Shù-Gu Tribe, so Mo Hua did not hide it.

Moreover, the task of gathering Human-Cloth Grass could only be entrusted to Tie Shù-Gu—that is, the current ancestor of the Shù-Gu Tribe.

Such matters involving ancestral rituals were known best only to him as the ancestor.

Tie Shù-Gu’s heart jolted, and with a serious expression, he said: “Understood.”

…

Tie Shù-Gu dedicated himself fully to the task.

Three days later, he presented to Mo Hua dozens of extremely rare varieties of Human-Cloth Grass that he had gathered.

These grasses spanned dozens of mountain realms, nearly a hundred tribes, and thousands of years of inheritance.

Only Tie Shù-Gu, with the experience of an ancestor, could recognize and locate these species.

Similarly, only with Mo Hua’s current powerful authority as Divine-Shaman could so many types of Human-Cloth Grass be gathered in such a short time.

Afterward, Mo Hua began using these Human-Cloth Grasses to weave straw-dogs, testing one strand after another.

Throughout the process, Mo Hua did not hide anything from Tie Shù-Gu.

Since the straw-dog Fate Technique was, after all, a legacy of the Shù-Gu Tribe, Mo Hua had no intention of keeping it secret.

At the same time, he hoped that Tie Shù-Gu’s experience could uncover problems he had overlooked in his research, filling in any gaps.

Tie Shù-Gu did not disappoint him.

In the Dao of cause and effect, Tie Shù-Gu was by no means weak. On the contrary, as an ancestor who had “died and been reborn,” Tie Shù-Gu’s mastery of cause and effect was profound, and his ability in curse-based killing was uniquely formidable.

It was just that, when facing Mo Hua, it was like a mouse confronting a cat—utterly helpless.

The Great Wilderness Straw-Dog Fate Technique was an ancient secret, connected to some of the Shù-Gu Tribe’s foundation.

Mo Hua revealed some of the causal secrets to Tie Shù-Gu.

The Shù-Gu ancestor parasitically residing within Tie Shù-Gu also offered many detailed suggestions, greatly benefiting Mo Hua, who lacked experience in causal curses.

Mo Hua incorporated Tie Shù-Gu’s suggestions with his own insights, using different species of Human-Cloth Grass as mediums, continually attempting to weave straw-dogs.

With each straw-dog woven, Mo Hua’s command of the technique deepened, and his experience in cause and effect grew stronger.

Tie Shù-Gu observed in amazement, his expression shifting subtly as he looked at Mo Hua.

Yet he kept all his astonishment to himself, revealing nothing.

Over the next few days, the straw-dog Fate Technique was studied ever more deeply in terms of “Technique,” and Mo Hua’s mastery improved steadily.

But in terms of the “Vessel,” there was still no progress.

All dozens of Human-Cloth Grasses had been tested. On Mo Hua’s desk were dozens of straw-dogs made from different grasses.

But the final result was the same—none of the straw-dogs could truly block the killing force of cause and effect.

Mo Hua frowned, and the atmosphere in the hall grew solemn.

Tie Shù-Gu bowed his head, hands at his sides, his expression equally serious.

Mo Hua looked at Tie Shù-Gu and asked: “Are there any other species?”

Tie Shù-Gu said bitterly: “Reporting to Lord Divine-Shaman, I have gathered all that could be found. These grasses are extremely rare, treasured by every tribe. If not under your name, I could not have collected so many varieties…”

Mo Hua, unwilling to accept this, asked, “Are there even rarer varieties?”

Tie Shù-Gu pondered and slowly said, “There are…”

Mo Hua raised an eyebrow. “Where?”

Tie Shù-Gu hesitated. “The rarer Human-Cloth Grasses are even more difficult to find, and their uses are extremely important: they are either made into ritual offerings for the tribal ancestral halls, planted in the tombs of major tribes, or used to forge some tribal treasures…”

“These things cannot be gathered. Unless…”

“Truly seizing their ancestral halls, taking their treasures, and blowing up these tribal tombs…”

Mo Hua’s face showed deep contemplation, clearly thinking seriously.

Tie Shù-Gu’s heart jolted, and he hurriedly advised: “Lord Divine-Shaman, with powerful enemies surrounding us and the Wujiao Tribe strong, you must not blow up ancestral tombs. Otherwise, you will provoke the anger of all, and chaos will surely follow…”

Mo Hua said, “I know.”

Tie Shù-Gu felt uneasy. Judging from Mo Hua’s expression, he could see no sign that he truly understood.

After much thought, Tie Shù-Gu still emphasized cautiously: “Lord Divine-Shaman, the ancestral tombs must not be blown!”

Only then did Mo Hua coldly nod, though still appearing somewhat dissatisfied.

Tie Shù-Gu silently exhaled in relief.

Mo Hua continued, pondering, “Then perhaps… it’s not a problem of the ‘Vessel,’ but rather an issue with the ‘Technique’ itself?”

Tie Shù-Gu furrowed his brow, thought carefully for a moment, and shook his head:

“Lord Divine-Shaman, your comprehension is heavenly gifted. Your mastery of the straw-dog ‘Technique’ far surpasses mine. Honestly, I don’t think your understanding of the Technique is lacking. The problem with this Fate Technique most likely lies in the straw-dog vessel itself…”

Mo Hua examined the Human-Cloth Grasses before him one by one and said, “These grasses are not true ancient species, are they?”

Tie Shù-Gu sighed.

This was also why many Great Wilderness legacies had been lost.

The world changed; flora and beasts changed, and some mediums for techniques were lost.

Many powerful legacies gradually declined and eventually disappeared because they lacked ancient Vessel mediums.

Mo Hua’s eyes flickered. “Go select some other straw grasses. They don’t have to be Human-Cloth Grass, but they must be ancient and rare… I will try them one by one.”

At this point, if Human-Cloth Grass didn’t work, he would have to try other options.

Unsure which grass would succeed, he resorted to the most painstaking method—testing them one by one.

Seeing Mo Hua’s determined resolve, Tie Shù-Gu cupped his hands. “Yes…”

…

Over the next several days, Tie Shù-Gu gathered no fewer than a hundred ancient, precious grasses from the Great Wilderness and presented them to Mo Hua.

Mo Hua, unfazed by the labor, spent his energy and blood testing each one. His complexion grew paler, yet still no grass could bear the weight of his cause and effect art.

Tie Shù-Gu also racked his brain in vain, unable to understand where this ancestral causal Fate Technique of his tribe had gone wrong.

A sense of dejection rose within him.

Mo Hua, however, refused to give up. Each day, unwavering, he continued to expend his life essence, trying more stalks, weaving more straw-dogs, in pursuit of a deeper understanding of causality.

But he had forgotten: his physical body was inherently weak.

And weaving straw-dogs consumed vital essence. Over these days, he had poured his life force into crafting them, leaving his vitality severely depleted.

Finally, one day, Mo Hua could no longer bear it. Pale as paper, he fainted.

Startled, Tie Shù-Gu rushed forward to help, but a thunderous roar stopped him—the Big Tiger, glaring fiercely, warning him to stay back.

Tie Shù-Gu froze, wary of making any sudden move.

The Big Tiger, swift as the wind, appeared before Mo Hua, shielding him with its body, nuzzling his head with concern.

After some time, sensing the Big Tiger’s presence, Mo Hua slowly regained consciousness.

Seeing the worry in the tiger’s eyes, he smiled faintly and patted its head.

He then took a few pills, swallowing them.

These were blood-replenishing pills, each of the highest quality; some had even been personally refined for him by Elder Murong back at Great Void Sect.

After taking them, a hint of color returned to his pale face, his vitality slightly restored.

Yet his body still felt weak—a long-forgotten weakness.

In that moment, Mo Hua realized: beyond being the all-powerful Divine-Shaman of the Great Wilderness, the exalted proxy of the Divine-Lord, he was also that inherently frail spiritual cultivator, the sickly Mo Hua of his youth.

This “weakness” felt both distant and immediate.

Memories surfaced: he could almost see his younger self, the thin and fragile boy, poor but clever and kind, a little formation practitioner learning to help others.

Back then, he was like a fragile yet resilient stalk of grass.

All the scattered cultivators of Tōngxiān City were like grass, too.

Or, from the perspective of the true upper echelon, they were all just “straw-dogs”… lowly and insignificant…

A flicker of sympathy stirred in Mo Hua’s cold heart.

Sympathy for himself, and for those humble, struggling cultivators who shared his plight.

Even looking across the world, across all living beings, they were all, in essence, straw-dogs.

Mo Hua’s gaze turned mournful.

And in that sorrow, his pupils trembled as a realization struck.

Ignoring his depleted vitality, he slowly rose, and with the Big Tiger at his side, stepped outside of the Divine-Shaman Hall.

The hall was built atop a high peak.

Standing at the summit, Mo Hua looked over the Great Wilderness. Amid the swirling mists, he felt the dizzying majesty of towering above the land, seeing all mountains as trivial.

This was the perspective of the upper echelon, the viewpoint of a powerful Divine-Shaman.

Yet his gaze went beyond the peaks, down to the base, to the most ordinary, unnoticed, humble, and insignificant wild grasses.

These grasses grew in the soil, surviving in obscurity, their fragile bodies covering the entire wasteland of the Great Wilderness.

Tie Shù-Gu followed, frowning, and confused.

After a long moment, Mo Hua sighed softly:

“It’s wrong…”

Tie Shù-Gu froze. “What is wrong?”

Mo Hua spoke slowly, “The Great Wilderness Straw-Dog Fate technique… shouldn’t use Human-Cloth Grass…”

Tie Shù-Gu was taken aback. “But that is what the ancestors used.”

Mo Hua’s eyes were piercing as he explained, “Your ancestors used Human-Cloth Grass because, back then, it was everywhere—a lowly, humble plant of the Great Wilderness.

“In the Straw-Dog Fate technique, if you’re making straw-dogs, you must use the most humble grass.

“But now, times have changed. Human-Cloth Grass is rare, precious—it is no longer ‘humble,’ no longer the most common plant of the Great Wilderness.

“If it is no longer humble, it is unfit to be made into straw-dogs.

“And not just Human-Cloth Grass—all ‘precious,’ ‘rare,’ or ‘superior’ plants are unfit as mediums for the Straw-Dog Fate technique.

“At any time, only the most ordinary, humble, despised wild grasses, growing everywhere across the wasteland, can be used to perform the Great Wilderness Straw-Dog Fate Technique.

“The most exalted are the humblest, the humblest are the most exalted.”

“The most ordinary and most lowly carry the highest weight in the Dao.

“That’s why it was wrong… ‘exalted’ grasses cannot bear the Dao of heavenly causality. Only the humblest wild grasses can…”

Mo Hua’s eyes were deep, his aura swirling with Daoic resonance, his words heavy with meaning.

Tie Shù-Gu felt his heart shake at the words, his eyes wide with astonishment.

…

Thereafter, Mo Hua discarded all ancient, precious, gilded plants, taking only the most ordinary, humble, unnoticed, disregarded wild grasses of the Great Wilderness to weave his causal straw-dogs.

This time, it was different.

With each strand he wove, his Divine-Sense poured forth like a river.

And his godlike golden divine-sense fused deeply with the humblest wild grasses.

In that instant, Mo Hua felt both a supreme god, overlooking the world, and a struggling, insignificant straw-dog in the mud.

His destiny and the straw-dog in his hands became deeply intertwined.

He was weaving the straw-dog, and at the same time, weaving his own fate and the lifelong threads of causality.

…

The wars of the Great Wilderness continued.

At night, after the hectic battles, Tie Shù-Gu returned to his room and set up an alter.

Yet the alter held nothing.

He lit an incense stick and bowed to a spirit tablet that did not exist.

His face was weathered, his expression aged, but the excitement and awe in his heart were beyond words, making his hand tremble as he held the incense:

“This child… his heart can encompass heaven and earth, his vision immeasurable, his comprehension extraordinary… indeed… he resembles you greatly…”

“In all these thousands of years, he is the one who most resembles you the most… he is the…”

“Most suitable candidate…”

Tie Shù-Gu’s tone was filled with immense satisfaction, though his face was hidden in the shadows.