Chapter 287: Eaten

Just a faint wisp of that aura spreading out caused the blue-faced evil ghost to tremble uncontrollably in terror, its entire being shaking as though its very origin were being erased.

That aura felt like the rejection of the Heavenly Dao itself—the Heavenly Dao that suppresses all evil spirits.

At the same time, a searing pain burned through the blue-faced ghost’s body.

When it looked down, it saw its hands, feet, and body melting away as if scorched by molten fire.

Its form shrank, gradually reverting to its original state—the blue-faced, fang-mouthed little ghost.

“I must escape—or I’ll die!”

The little ghost screamed in terror, struggling frantically to flee from Mo Hua’s Sea of Consciousness.

But Mo Hua naturally would not let it escape.

His eyes flashed. Seizing the moment, he used Flowing-Water Step, closing the distance in an instant and grabbing the little ghost by force.

Before this, the little ghost’s aura had been too powerful for Mo Hua to approach.

But now, after being blasted by the Earthfire Formation and burned by the Dao Monument’s aura, it was exposed in its true form—its remnant Divine-Sense severely weakened.

Mo Hua subdued it easily.

Still, the little ghost struggled and shrieked,

“Let me go! Let me go!”

Mo Hua ignored it, asking coldly,

“What exactly are you?”

The little ghost didn’t answer. Instead, its face twisted ferociously, and it snarled,

“Let me go… or one day, I’ll eat you!”

Mo Hua’s eyes hardened, his young face turning stern.

Still daring to threaten me at death’s door?

He tightened his grip around the ghost’s throat and said icily,

“Keep that up, and I’ll eat you first!”

It was only a threat—yet the moment he said it, the little ghost’s face twisted in horror.

“No… don’t say ‘eat’…”

But it was too late.

As soon as Mo Hua spoke the word, an even greater force erupted from the Dao Monument, burning the little ghost into a shadowy wraith.

The wraith screamed, twisting and writhing in agony, but it was useless—the Dao Monument’s aura crushed it completely, refining it into several wisps of azure energy.

Those wisps of blue energy shot straight into Mo Hua’s mouth, entering his body.

In the blink of an eye—Mo Hua had “eaten” the blue-faced little ghost.

Mo Hua froze.

He’d only said it as a joke—how had he actually eaten it?

He hadn’t meant to!

Thinking of the ghost’s hideous blue face and fangs, he muttered uneasily,

“I hope I don’t get… stomachache—or worse, brainache.”

But before he finished muttering, Mo Hua’s expression changed.

His mind exploded with color, like a kaleidoscope bursting open—images flooding his consciousness.

In a deep mountain temple, a little Daoist novice studied cultivation under a Daoist master.

The master was reading a strange book.

The novice read with him.

As they read, their smiles grew twisted—until both began craving human flesh.

Together, master and disciple deceived wandering cultivators… and started eating people.

Eventually, they no longer resembled humans.

The master became a red-faced, fang-mouthed demon. The novice, a blue-faced little ghost.

Then one day, a white-robed sword cultivator came, riding clouds.

With one sword, he slew the red-faced demon—but the blue-faced ghost escaped, hiding within a painting sealed in the Daoist temple.

Over the years, many cultivators obtained that painting.

The ignorant thought it depicted a Daoist’s disciple.

Those with profound Divine-Sense saw its true nature—an evil spawn.

Some used the painting for visualization, borrowing its Divine-Sense.

But where there is borrowing—there must be repayment.

In time, it devoured their minds.

Eventually, an elder from a certain sect sealed it away.

It languished in darkness for ages, starving.

Until one day, a young disciple with ambition and greed stole it away—the very same Third Chief of Black Mountain Stronghold…

These fragmented memories poured endlessly into Mo Hua’s mind, drowning him in them.

Before he could sort them out, another surge overtook him—the urge to eat people.

Mo Hua was horrified.

At the same time, waves of murderous, greedy, and evil intent flooded his heart.

He frowned deeply, suddenly realizing: He had eaten the blue-faced ghost—and its evil thoughts now infested his mind.

If left unchecked, they would eventually consume him, turning him truly demonic.

Enduring the pain, Mo Hua rushed to the Dao Monument, sat cross-legged, and began meditating with the contemplation method taught by Mister Zhuang—focusing his spirit and clearing his mind.

Evil thoughts surfaced again and again, but each time, they dissolved one by one under his calm awareness—rising and falling in endless cycles.

He recalled Mister Zhuang’s words:

“Let the heart follow its nature—without self-deception.

Even when evil arises, do not fear, do not hide.

Observe the self clearly; let the heart be clear, unbound, free in the infinite.”

“Worldly thoughts are illusory.

The heart is a bright mirror—unstained by dust.”

Wisp by wisp, the evil-tainted blue energy seeped from Mo Hua’s body, crushed and purified by the Dao Monument’s aura, vanishing entirely.

After an unknown time, Mo Hua opened his eyes.

All those dark thoughts were gone.

His heart was tranquil, his Divine-Sense crystal clear.

He breathed a long sigh of relief and was just about to rise when—A surge of extremely pure Divine-Sense flooded his Sea of Consciousness.

It was the remnant of the ghost’s spirit—its evil burned away, leaving only pure mental power.

That power filled his mind completely.

The blue-faced ghost’s Divine-Sense had been far stronger than Mo Hua’s, now refined, it was even more immense.

Mo Hua was uncertain what to do.

Neither the scriptures he had read nor Mister Zhuang’s teachings mentioned such a situation.

As he hesitated, the pure Divine-Sense continued to grow, crashing like waves against the walls of his consciousness.

A dull pain spread through his mind—his Sea of Consciousness felt as if it might split apart.

“Not good!”

The Divine-Sense was too vast—it could tear his Sea of Consciousness apart!

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Mo Hua began to draw formations upon the Dao Monument.

Drawing formations consumed immense Divine-Sense.

He hoped to use them to drain the excess power and prevent his Sea of Consciousness from bursting.

Using his finger as a brush, he drew with all his focus—Five Elements Formations, Compass Mother-Child Compound Formations, First-Grade Molten Fire Compound Formation, Concealment Arrays, and more—anything he could recall, he inscribed without hesitation.

His speed was astonishing; his fingers moved in blurs, Divine-Sense pouring out as layer upon layer of formations appeared upon the Monument.

Yet even his frantic pace couldn’t keep up with the growth of that pure power.

Then suddenly—Mo Hua thought of the Spirit-Reversal Formation.

A First-Grade Ten-Runic Spirit-Reversal Formation—something his current Divine-Sense could never complete.

But that also meant it would consume an enormous amount of energy.

Mo Hua recalled the complex runes and began attempting to inscribe them.

The first attempt—failure.

The second—failure again.

…

He didn’t stop.

He drew, and drew, and drew.

Finally, his rate of Divine-Sense expenditure caught up to the inflow—the pressure on his Sea of Consciousness lessened, the pain fading.

Feeling relief, Mo Hua redoubled his focus, pouring everything into mastering the Spirit-Reversal Formation.

He drew it over and over again—one formation overlaying another on the Dao Monument, layer after layer, countless attempts.

Each attempt brought him closer—each stroke consumed more Divine-Sense, and each depletion refined his mind further.

Like streams gathering into a mighty river.

At last, with his final stroke, his Divine-Sense drained dry—and the Spirit-Reversal Formation bloomed with deep, radiant light.

The runes shone.

The array took effect.

Mo Hua had successfully inscribed a First-Grade Ten-Runic Spirit-Reversal Formation—a marvel defying the norms of Heaven itself!

By sheer coincidence and will, he had used the purified Divine-Sense from the visualization painting to complete a formation that no ordinary First-Grade Array Master could ever comprehend.

(End of Chapter)