Chapter 295: Unfathomable

After Mo Hua left, about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the Third Master—having lost all sense of Mo Hua’s Divine-Sense—returned to that secluded grove.

Blood stained the ground, carnage everywhere.

Those evil cultivators had indeed been eaten—cleanly devoured, yet with blood splattered all around.

“The vessel was just a child… how could he eat people in such a messy way?”

The Third Master cursed inwardly.

Then he noticed something strange—there were claw marks on the ground, bite traces, and even bloodied tufts of fur.

He froze, brows furrowing slightly.

These evil cultivators hadn’t been eaten by a person—but by a beast.

And that possessed child was nowhere to be found.

The Third Master’s eyes narrowed. A trace of suspicion surfaced.

Were those men not eaten by that brat?

Or… was that brat not some old monster who had seized a body, but rather a beast wearing human skin?

But that couldn’t be right either. If not possession, how could a Qi-Refining cultivator possess Divine-Sense equal to a Foundation Establishment cultivator?

Heaven’s Dao has its laws; everything has limits.

No matter how strong a Qi-Refining cultivator’s Divine-Sense, it could never surpass its bounds to rival Foundation Establishment.

The Third Master couldn’t make sense of it—then suddenly gasped. He had forgotten something important:

The Visualization Diagram!

That brat had been meditating on his cushion—and hidden beneath that very cushion was the Visualization Diagram he had stolen from his sect!

Like the wind, the Third Master darted toward the Black Mountain Stronghold’s pill room.

When he arrived, he lifted the cushion—and found the secret compartment open and empty.

A chill ran through his heart. Just as panic set in, he noticed a drawing not far away—its texture somewhere between leather and paper, depicting blue-green mountains and flowing streams.

It was his Visualization Diagram.

Recovered after loss—his joy was boundless.

Whoever had opened the compartment and tossed it aside clearly hadn’t recognized its worth.

A fool, he thought. This is a Visualization Diagram—something countless formation masters dream of obtaining!

The Third Master exhaled in relief and carefully unfolded it—only for his smile to freeze.

The diagram was the same. The mountain the same. The stone the same. The moss upon the stone, even the stream beside it—all identical.

But one thing was missing—the Little Immortal Child.

His hands trembled. Quickly, he set the scroll before him, crossed his legs, steadied his mind, and began to meditate upon it.

He visualized it again and again… but no longer could he connect with the essence within. His Divine-Sense did not grow in the slightest.

Shock and fury welled up in him.

The Visualization Diagram was ruined—its power to enhance Divine-Sense, lost.

The color drained from his face.

Without the diagram, he could no longer rely on visualization to strengthen his Divine-Sense; without that, his formation mastery would stagnate.

He had been a single step from becoming a second-grade formation master—yet now, that step seemed impossibly distant.

“Who destroyed my Visualization Diagram?!”

Rage consumed him, and an image surfaced in his mind—Mo Hua.

“Was it that brat?”

But how could he have ruined the diagram?

The Third Master thought deeply.

The scenery was unchanged—only the child within had vanished. Why? Where had he gone?

Mo Hua’s pure face and innocent smile surfaced in his mind, and a chilling, impossible thought crept in.

“That brat… could he be the Little Immortal Child within the diagram?”

“No… impossible!”

He shook his head violently.

Yet the more he thought about it, the more the resemblance struck him. Both smiled with the same guileless purity—tinged with an inexplicable wickedness.

Cold dread crept through him. And with it, fear.

That brat—he could no longer see through him.

Was he human or ghost? A possessed old monster or a beast wearing human skin? The Little Immortal Child from the diagram—or merely a phantom of his own making?

“I must capture that brat… and find out what he truly is.”

The Third Master’s thoughts darkened.

Those whose depths you cannot fathom—are best kept far away.

But his Visualization Diagram was destroyed, and the cause most likely lay with that child. He had to find him and uncover the truth.

Without the diagram, his Divine-Sense would grow slowly. His progress in formation arts would stall. The path to becoming a second-grade formation master would be all but closed.

He frowned deeply.

His talent for formations had never been exceptional, and he’d never had the patience to train day and night like other formation masters.

He thought such diligence foolish.

Formations embodied the Dao of Heaven—they demanded insight, not rote toil.

Even through crooked means—using a visualization diagram tainted with demonic thought—his progress had far surpassed his peers.

Hard work was a dead end.

He firmly believed that.

And now, with the diagram’s power lost, his growth in Divine-Sense halted, his advance in formation arts cut off—

He muttered darkly, “I must find that brat.”

If he was human, possessing Foundation-level Divine-Sense while still in Qi-Refining, then he must have a secret method to enhance it—and that method must become his.

If he was the Little Immortal Child from the diagram, then sealing him back inside would restore the diagram’s power. Then he could once again visualize, strengthen his Divine-Sense, and reach second-grade mastery.

Cold light flickered in his eyes—then faded into confusion.

“But where is that brat now…”

…

As the Third Master plotted, the one occupying his thoughts—Mo Hua—was at home, joyfully devouring a table full of food lovingly prepared by his mother.

A great feast—rich aroma, brilliant color, mouthwatering taste.

He gripped a giant bun in one hand, a roasted drumstick in the other, cheeks stuffed full, eyes squinting into crescents.

“Home-cooked food really is the best.”

The meals in Black Mountain Stronghold had been atrocious—he’d never eat there again.

That Third Master had probably noticed something and might be watching him now—but Mo Hua had no intention of returning there anyway.

Unless the Dao Court eventually wiped out the stronghold—then he might go to watch the spectacle.

But for now, such an assault was impossible, and he had no plans to enter those mountains again.

If that Third Master wanted to wait for him like a fool, let him.

Once Mo Hua achieved Foundation Establishment and became a second-grade formation master, then he’d go looking for trouble.

By then, he wouldn’t need tricks or illusions—he’d face him head-on.

And his next goal was clear—Foundation Establishment!

He already had enough spirit stones.

He held shares in the southern city’s artifact and alchemy shops, received profits from the Fortune Banquet Restaurant, and could even “pluck some wool” from the Dao Court Division when needed.

Though that, per Uncle Zhang Lan’s advice, should be reserved for emergencies.

Zhang Lan, as an “insider” of the Dao Court Division, clearly knew things he didn’t—his advice was worth following.

Mo Hua’s spiritual root was inferior mid-grade, and his cultivation method, the Celestial Evolution Art, matched it in grade—its spiritual circulation pattern was also slightly below average.

That meant his required spiritual energy for breakthrough wasn’t excessive. His current savings of spirit stones were already enough.

The Celestial Evolution Art’s true bottleneck lay in Divine-Sense—but his had already reached Foundation-level, well beyond expectations.

All was ready—only the final spark remained.

Once he reached the peak of Qi-Refining Ninth Layer, he could make his breakthrough to Foundation Establishment in one strike!

Foundation Establishment…

In all of Tōngxiān City, there were only a handful of Foundation Establishment cultivators—and among the loose cultivators, Elder Yu had been the sole one, standing against the Qian Clan for years, defending their dignity.

Now, Mo Hua could stand beside him.

He had dreamed of this day—but never thought it would come so soon, so tangibly close, almost within reach…

Lost in thought, he barely noticed his mother, Liu Ruhua, gently stroking his hair.

“Eat,” she said softly.

Snapping back to himself, Mo Hua smiled and focused on the feast before him.

Seeing him wolfing down food, Liu Ruhua felt a pang of tenderness. He must have suffered in those mountains. She added another drumstick to his bowl.

“Eat more.”

Mo Hua nodded eagerly. “Mother, you don’t know—Black Mountain Stronghold’s food was horrible!”

“How horrible?” she asked, amused.

“As horrible as horrible gets!”

Liu Ruhua laughed. “And yet you still ate it?”

“When you’re starving, even terrible food looks good.”

Her expression softened into worry. “Wasn’t it dangerous in there?”

Mo Hua almost nodded—but fearing to alarm her, quickly said, “It was fine! I used concealment techniques—could spy, listen, and even eat without being noticed!”

Then, recalling her earlier warnings, he added softly, “They were all bad people anyway. Listening a little, peeking a little, eating a little… that doesn’t count as doing bad things, right?”

She smiled. “No, it doesn’t.”

Then Mo Hua began sharing other stories—this time, not the grim truths he’d told Elder Yu, but amusing tales.

Like the fat cook who got eaten by a tiger, two night watchmen who killed each other by mistake, and the mighty Third Master whose formation skills weren’t even as good as his own—whose arrays he’d secretly tampered with again and again without the man ever noticing…

Liu Ruhua listened intently, her mood easing with every laugh.

Beside them, Mo Shan sat in silence, his emotions mixed.

He knew these “funny stories” were layered with peril.

He too had once returned from hunting monsters in the mountains—telling similar cheerful tales to spare his son worry.

Now, that same son was doing it for them.

Mo Shan felt both a pang of sorrow and a quiet pride.

(End of Chapter)