Chapter 283: Feeding the Pigs
The Scarred-Face Man killed cleanly, but Mo Hua’s head throbbed just watching.
Though it was true that a spiritual cultivator caught in close combat with a body cultivator would usually suffer…
—this pale-faced man was far too pathetic.
He couldn’t even sense such an obvious killing intent from the Scarred-Face Man?
And to think he was a demonic cultivator—more naive than a child.
Mo Hua sighed.
His plan had been to use the storage pouch as bait, luring the two into fighting so he could reap the benefit afterward.
If they fought, even if they didn’t perish together, they’d at least both be injured—
then he could simply swoop in, finish the job, and take the spoils.
But who could’ve guessed that the pale-faced man would be so useless?
He’d been slaughtered before Mo Hua even had time to blink.
With vigilance that low, what’s the point of being a spiritual cultivator? Mo Hua grumbled inwardly.
After killing the pale-faced man, the Scarred-Face Man retrieved a manual from his body, spat, and tossed him into the hut before leaving.
Mo Hua’s eyes brightened.
That Scarred-Face Man… didn’t take the storage pouch?
Could it be that lust-clouded rage fried his brain?
“Well, if you’re not taking it, I won’t be polite.”
Mo Hua snuck into the hut and pocketed the pouch.
Inside was the long-coveted manual for Fireball Technique.
With this, the power of his fireballs might advance another level.
Not a bad haul after all.
Mo Hua stored the pouch and climbed onto the roof beam.
Moments later, the Scarred-Face Man returned. He rummaged through the corpse but couldn’t find the pouch.
“Did I misremember? I swear he had it on him…”
The Scarred-Face Man frowned, thought for a moment, then grew irritable.
“Forget it. Probably nothing good anyway.”
He searched the hut, collected a few spirit stones and artifacts, and left, leaving the corpse stiff and unattended.
Watching, Mo Hua sighed.
“What’s the point of becoming a demonic cultivator? Die, and not even your corpse gets buried.”
Still, he’d brought it on himself. Mo Hua felt no sympathy.
“This Scarred-Face Man… really is hard to kill.”
He had schemed against him twice, yet the man remained unscathed. Clearly, a seasoned killer.
A frontal clash wouldn’t guarantee victory.
Sitting cross-legged on the beam, Mo Hua pondered—then thought of Kong Sheng.
He had to be dealt with sooner or later too.
Mo Hua concealed his presence and went to the room where Kong Sheng was confined.
Kong Sheng still raved like a lunatic, sometimes growling threats to kill this or that person.
Mo Hua perched silently on the roof, waiting for the Scarred-Face Man to pass by.
The paths in Black Mountain Stronghold were many and tangled, but they intersected.
The Scarred-Face Man, assigned to night watch, would have to pass here.
As dusk deepened, Mo Hua’s Divine-Sense stirred—he spotted the Scarred-Face Man in the distance.
Having killed the pale-faced man, he’d now have to stand guard alone.
Whether he’d face punishment for that killing was unclear, but this wasn’t the time to worry about it.
Mo Hua slipped invisibly into Kong Sheng’s room.
Kong Sheng sat there, eyes venomous, muttering,
“I’ll kill you all sooner or later…”
Mo Hua crept up behind him, raised the Thousand-Catty Rod, activated his array, and struck hard.
Kong Sheng, only at Qi-Refining Stage Seven and weak besides, was knocked out cold in a single blow.
Mo Hua then dispelled the formation on the door, opened the iron gate, took out a Flame Talisman, threaded it with fine string, and tied it around Kong Sheng’s wrist—concealing it within his sleeve.
He had taken this talisman from the Qian family cultivators; there had been three in total—he’d used one before, leaving two unused.
After finishing preparations, and as the Scarred-Face Man drew close, Mo Hua slapped Kong Sheng awake, then vanished from sight.
Kong Sheng woke groggily, head and face aching.
“Who the hell—”
He froze mid-curse.
The iron gate was open.
What’s going on?
He blinked, then realization dawned—
It was that fat cultivator who brought food!
“He must’ve given my jade token to Father! Father must’ve brought the Kong family cultivators to rescue me!”
But… why knock me out first?
No time to think about that now—he could finally escape.
Ecstatic, Kong Sheng leapt to his feet and bolted for the door.
He’d had enough of this wretched place. No more eating that foul slop, no more enduring the scorn of demonic cultivators.
Once he was out, he would again be the Young Master of the Kong Family of Qingxuan City—
able to summon wind and rain with a word, untouchable.
And then, he could take revenge on the Ji family father and son… and that little slut, Fu Lan!
The more he thought about it, the more excited he became—
but as he reached the doorway, a tall figure blocked his path, scar slashing across his grim face.
The Scarred-Face Man.
The man sneered darkly. “Trying to escape?”
Kong Sheng saw that murderous smile, felt the killing intent radiate from him, and went weak in the knees.
“I… I wasn’t…”
The Scarred-Face Man’s eyes narrowed.
“Who opened the gate?”
“I… I don’t know…”
The man laughed coldly.
“You were told, weren’t you? Prisoners of Black Mountain Stronghold—any who try to flee, die without exception.”
Terrified, Kong Sheng stammered, “I didn’t run…”
But inside, he was panicking—
Why hasn’t Father come yet? Once he arrives, he’ll kill all these beasts!
He didn’t notice that as he flailed his hands, the talisman tied to his wrist slipped partly into view.
In his panic he failed to see it—but the Scarred-Face Man did.
The talisman was clearly high-grade. A pampered young master like him would never have hidden it unless he planned to feign fear, lull him into carelessness, and then strike.
Rage flashed through the Scarred-Face Man’s eyes.
“Even a little bastard like you dares scheme against me?!”
He lunged forward, blade flashing like lightning, and cleaved Kong Sheng clean in two.
The pampered young master of Qingxuan City, always arrogant and domineering, fell without even a chance to resist.
A while later, an old demonic cultivator arrived and snarled,
“What’s wrong with you? Wasn’t killing one man today enough? You even killed the ransom hostage?”
The Scarred-Face Man bowed his head. “He tried to escape.”
“Hmph! Don’t make excuses. You’ve earned yourself a major demerit. From now on, you’ll stand night watch alone. If anything goes wrong, you’ll answer for it!”
“Yes, sir.”
Mo Hua sighed again.
He hadn’t expected the punishments here to be so lenient.
The Scarred-Face Man had killed both the pale-faced man and Kong Sheng, yet only got a demerit and a night-watch duty as penalty.
Mo Hua had hoped the man would be severely punished or injured—then he could strike easily.
He still remembered that female cultivator’s tragic death under the moonlight.
This Scarred-Face Man—he had to die.
But it seemed it couldn’t be done anytime soon.
After all, his two recent schemes had already left traces:
the missing storage pouch, the opened cell door, and the talisman in Kong Sheng’s sleeve.
Anyone observant could tell something strange was afoot.
It was no longer safe to stay here.
Sure enough, the Scarred-Face Man soon said to the old demonic cultivator,
“The gate to Kong Sheng’s cell was open. I don’t know who released him.”
The old man frowned.
They discussed for a while but found no clue, eventually letting the matter drop—
though Mo Hua knew they must be suspicious now.
When something’s that off, there’s always a reason.
It was already impressive he’d concealed himself this long.
“Should I just go home now? Father and Mother must be worried,” Mo Hua thought quietly.
Just then, he heard the old demonic cultivator say to the Scarred-Face Man.
“Drag this Kong family brat off to feed the pigs.”
End of Chapter.