Chapter 1406: Forbidden Arts and Business

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Chapter 1404: Forbidden Arts and Business

In the guest room of the Little Luan Mountain Blessed Land.

For a period of time afterward, Mo Hua was almost constantly sprawled over the table, flipping through ancient texts on the Meteoric Fire Forbidden Art, studying its spell structure.

At the same time, he used his Divine-Sense computational power to deduce the structure of the Spell Formulas, simulating the various transformations of spiritual power that would occur after spell collisions—due to the fusion of fireballs, and the collapse of the spell formula, as well as the resulting changes in power released during those transformations…

As he read, he calculated, scribbled on paper, and recorded the deduced results into jade slips.

From the outside, it looked like Mo Hua was merely reading and sketching normally.

No one would guess that this early-stage Golden Core cultivator was, at this very moment, conducting research on an extremely dangerous, volatile, and explosive forbidden art.

As his research deepened, many previously vague concepts gradually became clear.

“Spell Formulas are the fundamental structures that allow spiritual power to manifest as various spells.”

This was something Mo Hua had only half understood before. Now, with greater experience and his own analysis, he finally grasped it.

So-called “Spell Formulas” were, in essence, a fixed manifestation of “laws,” existing between the intangible “Dao Law” and the tangible “techniques.”

They were an intermediate process, starting from surface-level spells and delving deeper into underlying deeper laws.

A form of connection that linked spells and laws.

And collisions, fusions, and collapses of Spell Formulas… these various changes essentially involve altering the “laws,” thereby unleashing immense power.

The reason the Meteoric Fire technique was classified as a forbidden art was likely because it studied mutated Spell Formulas.

These Spell Formulas were unstable, so the release of spiritual power was prone to unexpected outcomes.

Ordinary spells had stable Spell Formulas, making their power relatively safe upon release.

But stability and safety often meant average power, nothing surprising.

The Forbidden arts’ spell formulas are unstable.

This instability can lead to two possibilities.

One: the Spell Formula could reverse contract and wither, reducing its power, even weaker than ordinary spells.

The other: mutation, collapse, expansion, distortion, and so on.., of the art formula, producing immense power, but becoming extremely difficult to control.

Thus, research into forbidden arts was often a process of constant trial and error, chasing unpredictable breakthroughs, along with high risks and possible self-destruction.

That was why the Dao Court strictly forbade cultivators from studying forbidden arts.

But for Mo Hua, many of the Dao Court’s prohibitions no longer held much significance.

He had already learned, researched, and used quite a few forbidden arts.

As long as he didn’t bring them into the open and openly provoke the Dao Court, using them in secret would go unnoticed.

What Mo Hua truly cared about were some issues inherent to the forbidden arts themselves.

During his study of the Meteoric Fire Spell Formula, he increasingly felt that researching “Spell Formulas” in spells bore a subtle similarity to how he used formations to simulate changes in “laws.”

In this world, cultivators who researched spells to the extent of developing forbidden arts were rare.

Those who studied formations deeply enough to simulate laws were even rarer.

And those who did both—self-developing forbidden arts while using formations to simulate laws—were even rarer than pheonix feathers and qilin horns.

Mo Hua didn’t know if he was the only one with such a realization.

Though it was often said that all Great Dao paths lead to the same destination, in reality, that was mostly just talk.

Between different cultivation disciplines, the barriers were still extremely strict.

Body techniques are body techniques, and spells are spells.

Alchemy, formations, talismans, and artifacts all had their own mysteries… interconnected, yet fundamentally different.

“But what if…”

A thought stirred in Mo Hua’s mind.

“What if the barrier between ‘spells’ and ‘formations’ could be broken… what would happen?”

“Would spells become formations, and formations become spells?”

“Or perhaps, the structure of formations could be used to simulate spells?”

“Or could spells be used to instantly deploy formations?”

Following this line of thought, Mo Hua imagined the possibilities…

Using formation structures to simulate spells was still somewhat plausible.

But the problem was that formations were generally more powerful than spells. Using them to simulate spells would be purely redundant…

Unless one was simulating forbidden arts, using formations to represent the variations in Spell Formulas, evolving into something like “forbidden spell art formations.”

But researching forbidden arts was already difficult. Reinterpreting their Spell Formulas through formations would be like carving a temple to perform a grand ritual inside a snail shell… making an already difficult task even harder.

As for the reverse—using spells to deploy formations—it was even further removed from conventional cultivation logic.

In reality, formations required fixed structures and mediums: formation media, spiritual ink, formation eyes, formation hubs, formation patterns… none could be missing.

How could such elements be manifested through spells?

Mo Hua shook his head.

As a child, his imagination ran wild, his ambitions vast as the sky.

Now… it seems he is still the same as before.

But no matter what, it was at least a hypothesis.

So he casually recorded these ideas into the jade slip labeled “Meteoric Fire Forbidden Art Development,” then set them aside.

After that, he continued to devote most of his energy—and a great deal of Divine-Sense—to researching the Third-Grade Meteoric Fire technique…

…

More than ten days passed like this.

After extensive deductions, Mo Hua finally arrived at preliminary results.

He had successfully derived a forbidden-art model for Third-Grade fireball fusion and Spell Formula collapse.

Of course, it was only an initial version—still rough in detail—but theoretically, it should already be usable.

Once again, Mo Hua entered the training room.

This time, he intended to personally test the Third-Grade Meteoric Fire forbidden art—to see if he could form a Third-Grade “meteor.”

Since this was only a preliminary attempt, and he had already conducted extensive Divine-Sense calculations beforehand, he felt fairly confident and didn’t bother wearing protective gear.

The spell puppet stood opposite him, clad in armor.

Mo Hua glanced at it, then began forming fireballs.

As before, he spread his hands apart, split his Divine-Sense consciousness, and under Divine-Sense control, flames gathered in each palm. In the blink of an eye, they condensed into fireballs.

Within them, surging firepower burned fiercely.

This was a Third-Grade Fireball Technique, already exhibiting a crystallized state.

At the Qi-Refining stage, spiritual power was gaseous. Though called a “fireball,” it was merely a cluster of flame energy and light.

At the Foundation Establishment stage, spiritual power flowed like mercury, and the fireball took on a liquid form, like molten lava.

Now, at the Golden Core stage, spiritual power crystallized into a solid state, making the fireball resemble an actual chunk of molten rock.

Mo Hua was still only at the early Golden Core stage, his spiritual power not yet abundant, so the fireball wasn’t fully solidified. However, it had undeniably undergone a qualitative transformation in form.

Looking at this “molten rock,” Mo Hua suddenly felt a bad premonition.

He suspected he might have underestimated its power.

Third-Grade spells were on an entirely different level from second-grade ones.

But the arrow was already nocked, there was no turning back.

The fireballs had already formed, the trajectory for Spell Formula collision calculated. It was impossible to stop now.

So Mo Hua brought his hands together, forcefully controlling the fireballs with his Divine-Sense and accelerating it into a collision.

At that moment, his heart skipped a beat.

He had forgotten… his Divine-Sense was already at the peak of twenty-nine patterns, nearing the Golden Core limit.

Breaking through this bottleneck would mean Feathered Ascension.

His Divine-Sense… was simply too strong.

“Not good!”

Mo Hua’s expression changed slightly… but it was already too late. The fireballs had already collided.

A flash of fire burst forth, spiritual energy erupted, and a thunderous boom resounded. Even the ground of the small Blessed Land trembled faintly.

Xiao Ju, who was brewing tea, was startled.

“An earthquake?”

She scratched her head, looking puzzled. “Since when does Kun Province have earthquakes?”

Fortunately, the tremor was only slight and vanished instantly. Thinking it was her imagination, Xiao Ju shook her head and ignored it.

But while she ignored it, others could not.

The moment the explosion occurred, True-Person Rong appeared outside the training room. Pushing open the door, she saw Mo Hua standing there with a bitter smile.

His face was smeared with grime, covered in soot, looking very filthy.

Blood dripped from both his hands.

Across from him, the once tidy training room was now in complete disarray.

A grotesque, twisted burn mark snaked across the ground like a fire dragon, stretching into the distance.

Everything inside the room had either been burned, destroyed, or outright melted.

Only the spell puppet in the center—made of black iron and jade, and of extremely high grade—remained intact.

Even so, its face had been scorched red, as if wearing a pained expression.

True-Person Rong stared in astonishment for a long moment, then looked at Mo Hua. “What have you done this time?”

Mo Hua smiled bitterly. “A Miscalculation… I… lost control.”

True-Person Rong sighed inwardly, both shocked and annoyed, but seeing that Mo Hua’s hands were injured, she could suppress her frustration and say:

“Treat your injuries first.”

Mo Hua nodded, then asked, “What about this…?”

“I’ll take care of it,” True-Person Rong replied.

Mo Hua felt a bit guilty. “I’ve caused you trouble.”

True-Person Rong waved her hand, clearly telling him to leave and stop being an eyesore.

With his arms burning in pain and still bleeding, Mo Hua could only leave first.

Left alone in the training room, True-Person Rong looked at the devastation and finally let out a sigh.

Zixi, that child, might appear cold and detached, but her will was firm. Once she made up her mind, no one could control her.

And this Mo Hua was nothing but a pure troublemaker through and through.

One Zixi alone was manageable… but now that the two were together… it was truly…

If those two were to… that would truly be…

True-Person Rong felt a headache coming on and began cleaning up the training room that Mo Hua had left in ruins.

Everything single thing had to be replaced.

The only fortunate thing was that the precious Profound black-jade puppet hadn’t been damaged.

This Profound Jade puppet was a fourth-grade treasure. Mo Hua was only at the early Golden Core stage, no matter how much he messed around, damaging it should have been impossible…

True-Person Rong thought to herself, letting out a sign of relief.

But just as she thought this, she seemed to sense something and her expression suddenly changed.

True Person Rong stood in place, frowning in thought for a long while, seemingly finding it hard to believe. Then she slowly walked to the puppet, activated its mechanism, dismantled its armor, and lifted the jade-iron plating.

Inside, she discovered that several formation patterns… had been twisted out of alignment.

Twisted and Blasted out of place… by Mo Hua’s spell?

How… was that even possible?

True-Person Rong stood there in a daze, her mind a bit numb.

…

Inside the alchemy room.

Mo Hua sat at the table.

Bai Zixi applied medicine to his arm and asked calmly, “Caused trouble again?”

Mo Hua sighed. “Got careless. I miscalculated my spiritual power… and it went out of control…”

Even though he had calculated carefully, he had still underestimated the power of a Third-Grade fireball, as well as the pressure of his peak twenty-nine-pattern Divine-Sense.

He had only recently entered the Golden Core stage and had little experience using its power. As a result, his understanding and control were lacking, leading to a slight miscalculation in the Meteoric Fire Technique.

With ordinary spells, even unexpected deviations could be corrected with his powerful Divine-Sense.

But this was a forbidden technique… off by a hair, and the result diverged by miles.

By the time he noticed the error, it was already too late. Fortunately, his control over spiritual power was strong, and he managed to redirect the spell in time, avoiding serious injury.

Still, his arm suffered backlash from the collapsing spell structure—spiritual energy twisting violently—leaving him injured and bleeding.

Though the wound wasn’t severe, in Bai Zixi’s eyes, it was still unpleasant to see.

She looped up at him, her crystal-clear, icy eyes showing a hint of displeasure. “Be more careful next time.”

Mo Hua felt a bit guilty and nodded. “Understood, Little Senior Sister.”

Bai Zixi looked at him quietly, then suddenly said, “We’ve grown up…”

Mo Hua froze.

Her gaze remained calm. “We can’t act like we did when we were children… We need to have some sense of boundaries. And… don’t call me ‘Little’ Senior Sister anymore. We’re not… little anymore.”

Mo Hua’s expression dimmed slightly. He looked up at her familiar yet now strangely beautiful face, then lowered his gaze.

But as his eyes dropped, he caught sight of her slender, graceful figure beneath her snow-white robes.

For some reason, his face suddenly flushed.

He nodded softly, his voice barely audible. “Mm… got it, Little Senior Sister.”

Bai Zixi frowned slightly.

Mo Hua quickly corrected himself. “Alright… Senior Sister.”

…

After blowing up the training room in the small Blessed Land, True-Person Rong effectively “blacklisted” Mo Hua.

Of course, it wasn’t complete blacklisting, he was simply added to the training room’s “blacklist” and wasn’t allowed to enter again.

Mo Hua understood that True-Person Rong was genuinely angry this time.

Although the spell puppet should be fine—he believed his Meteoric Fire forbidden technique couldn’t possibly damage it—blowing up the room was still blowing up the room.

Knowing he was in the wrong, Mo Hua didn’t dare argue.

In the days that followed, he kept a low profile and focused on recovering.

Without access to the training room, and lacking proper conditions, his research on the forbidden technique had to be temporarily put on hold.

As for his injuries, they were neither light nor severe. Generally, it would take some time to fully recover.

But Bai Zixi’s medical skills were truly excellent, and the medicine she used was top-grade.

Thanks to that, within just a few days, Mo Hua fully recovered, his arm returning to normal.

Then he suddenly remembered something important he had almost forgotten.

Manager Zhao’s formation order…

Normally, he would never forget commissions that hadn’t been settled, since he hadn’t received the payment yet.

But the problem was that Manager Zhao had already paid him in advance… and Mo Hua had already spent most of it.

Coupled with his immersion in forbidden technique research, he had nearly forgotten about the order altogether.

After calculating the time, only four or five days remained before the one-month deadline.

Business required integrity. Manager Zhao had been generous, and Mo Hua didn’t want to ruin the “credit” of his Heavenly Pivot Ring over such a small commission.

So he spent a single night, completing all the formation orders.

After all, they were just second-grade high-tier formations, how difficult could they really be?

Once finished, Mo Hua found some time to visit the eastern market district of Houtu City and delivered the completed formation materials to Manager Zhao of the Fortune Pavilion.

Manager Zhao had been waiting for a long time. Seeing the month nearly up and no sign of Mo Hua, he had almost believed that the mysterious young man had run off with his five hundred thousand spirit stones.

Now that Mo Hua had arrived, his heart finally settled.

When he opened the formations Mo Hua had drawn, he was instantly dazzled, filled with astonishment.

Perfect!

So perfect!

The foundation, the brushwork, the formation patterns and structure… flawless, as if carved from the same mold as the reference template.

And because they were hand-drawn, they even possessed a liveliness and elegance beyond the templates.

Could this really be something drawn by human hands?

Manager Zhao almost thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.

Only after carefully comparing each formation and confirming there were no mistakes—and that the formation patterns were indeed drawn by the Young Master Mo before him—did he finally feel completely at ease.

He then looked at Mo Hua, his gaze filled with admiration.

No wonder he only submitted these formations near the end of the month.

These formations were anything but simple.

And to be able to draw such high-tier formations with such precision and perfection, this Young Master Mo must have refined them stroke by stroke over a very long time to achieve such results.

Over this past month, he had likely poured all his time, all his effort, and all his divine sense into these formations.

Such a responsible attitude, such meticulous rigor, and such tireless dedication to formations deeply moved Manager Zhao.

With a heart full of emotions, Manager Zhao sighed:

“This past month… must have been truly hard on you, Young Master Mo.”

Mo Hua had no idea why simply delivering some formations had suddenly made Manager Zhao look so touched.

He could only nod and vaguely reply, “It was alright…”

Look at that… clearly he had endured immense hardship, worked tirelessly for an entire month, and completed the task with near-perfect brushwork, yet when praised, he showed no arrogance, did not boast of his efforts, and merely brushed it off with a simple “alright.” This showed his humility and broad-minded character.

Manager Zhao was deeply moved.

“Young Master Mo, please come upstairs!”

He invited Mo Hua to the second floor, had attendants serve tea, and ordered incense to be lit. The treatment was exceedingly courteous.

Mo Hua, however, had another purpose in mind. After chatting idly for a while, he asked:

“Manager Zhao, do you have any more orders?”

Manager Zhao was taken aback and asked in confusion, “You’re still going to draw? Aren’t you going to rest?”

Drawing formations is an extremely taxing task for Divine-Sense. Normally, after completing an order and receiving payment, formation masters would rest for a while, adjusting themselves and rewarding their efforts.

For someone like Mo Hua, so young yet already a Second-Grade high-tier formation master, to not only remain calm and disciplined, free of arrogance or indulgence, but also to be this diligent and hardworking, was truly unexpected.

Afraid Manager Zhao might grow suspicious, Mo Hua put on a humble expression and said:

“A person must keep their word, and upload integrity. I should first repay the spirit stones I owe Manager Zhao.”

He had advanced five hundred thousand, and this batch of orders had earned him around one hundred eighty thousand.

In other words, he still owed three hundred twenty thousand spirit stones.

A debt of spirit stones was karma.

Owing karma was something Mo Hua was not fond of.

Manager Zhao gave him a deep look. Earlier, he had judged by appearance and assumed this Young Master Mo was carefree and unrestrained, but it turned out that when it came to doing things, he was steady, disciplined, and full of principles.

In this day and age, when everyone schemed and sought shortcuts, people like this were far too rare.

For a moment, Manager Zhao felt a sense of respect arise within him. He nodded and said, “Very well.”

He instructed the steward to bring more orders—this time selecting some Second-Grade mid-to-high-tier formation commissions—and handed them to Mo Hua, reminding him:

“Young Master Mo, there’s no need to rush. Your divine sense is important, don’t overexert yourself.”

Mo Hua didn’t really understand how drawing Second-Grade formations could overtax his divine sense, but it wasn’t appropriate to say more. He simply cupped his hands and said:

“Thank you for your concern, Manager Zhao…”