Chapter 301: Reluctance

Mo Hua was a little surprised at first, then thought about it and felt it wasn’t that outrageous.

“I was just asking about the difference between Evil Formations—no way I could learn it just by asking, right…”

Bai Zisheng pondered for a moment, then shook his head with a certain conviction.

“Others might not, but you definitely would!”

Evil Formations and Demonic Formations were, by nature, deviations from the Great Dao—shortcuts born of opportunism.

Orthodox formation arts were difficult to learn.

To master them, one needed to proceed step by step—building a solid foundation, drawing array after array, gradually strengthening the Divine-Sense, and only after years of perseverance could one naturally achieve mastery.

But certain evil or demonic cultivators, unwilling to endure hardship and desperate for rapid progress, resorted to heterodox and depraved methods—ways that defied Heaven’s will—to forcibly enhance a formation’s power.

Thus, Evil and Demonic Formations were easier to learn than righteous ones.

And since righteousness and evil were opposites, inverse reflections of each other, most formation masters could not comprehend both. Yet for someone as innately gifted as Mo Hua, understanding one meant intuiting the other almost immediately.

Though Bai Zisheng was reluctant to admit it, Mo Hua was the most monstrously talented formation master of his generation he had ever seen.

If Mo Hua could learn orthodox formations so swiftly, learning heretical ones would be even easier.

Even if Mister Zhuang merely mentioned a few theoretical principles, Mo Hua might very well deduce the entire Evil Formation by himself.

And once one fell into the path of heresy and demons, there was no turning back.

Bai Zisheng glanced at Mo Hua and quickly warned,

“Whatever you do, don’t ask Mister Zhuang about it! You’ll definitely anger him. Evil Formations are things unfit for the light of day—better not to ask at all.”

“Really?” Mo Hua was skeptical.

He didn’t truly wish to learn an Evil Formation; he only wanted to understand it—so that if he encountered one again, he wouldn’t be caught off guard or helpless.

“Really!” Bai Zisheng said with solemn certainty.

“Alright then.”

Mo Hua gave in. Listening to advice keeps one fed and safe, as the saying goes.

Since both Bai Zisheng and Bai Zixi said so, he decided to drop it—for now.

“By the way,” Bai Zisheng asked curiously, “how did you even get out of Black Mountain Stronghold?”

So Mo Hua recounted, with a straight face, his “heroic tale” of following the Third Chief’s lead and striding openly out through the stronghold’s main gate.

Bai Zisheng was utterly dumbfounded. “You’re bluffing!”

“Believe it or not.”

Mo Hua’s expression showed no hint of deceit, leaving Bai Zisheng torn. “And then?”

Mo Hua continued, summarizing the later events—how he had tricked and killed several demonic cultivators.

After a long, grave silence, Bai Zisheng finally spoke, face serious and tone resolute.

“With courage and cunning like yours, I’ve decided—I won’t take you as my little brother anymore.”

“Huh?”

“You’re promoted—you can be my junior brother!”

Mo Hua, unimpressed, pursed his lips. “I’m not interested.”

“What? You’re not interested in being my junior brother?” Bai Zisheng was dumbstruck.

“What’s there to be interested in?”

“This is me we’re talking about! Even the direct descendants of the Zhao, Li, and Shentu clans would beg to be my junior brother—and I wouldn’t even consider them!”

Bai Zisheng tried desperately to persuade him.

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then said, “But we’re both just registered disciples under Mister Zhuang, so technically we’re not true fellow disciples, are we?”

“Registered disciples are still disciples!” Bai Zisheng insisted.

“Even so, I entered before you. Logically, that makes me the senior brother—you’re the junior.”

Bai Zisheng froze, then jumped up in protest. “Impossible!”

First, he couldn’t be “Big Brother.” Fine. But now, even as “Senior Brother,” he was being demoted to “Junior Brother”?

Unacceptable!

“I’m older than you—that makes me senior!”

“I entered the sect first—you should call me Senior Brother!”

…

At the side, Bai Zixi watched their endless bickering, quietly picked up her book again, and began reading gracefully, serene and unbothered.

Beneath the great locust tree, their crisp, youthful voices echoed—noisy yet harmonious.

As dusk deepened, they each returned home, and the mountain dwelling finally grew quiet.

Night descended, moonlight spilling over the mountain and bamboo groves, coating everything in a faint silvery glow.

Inside the bamboo hut, Mister Zhuang slowly opened his eyes. He gazed at the moonlit peaks, lost in thought.

At some unknown moment, Old Kui appeared silently as ever, his voice dry and rasping:

“Your injuries have worsened.”

“They’ve always been this bad,” Zhuang said calmly, his tone betraying no emotion.

Old Kui fell silent for a time, then said coldly,

“If the wounds deepen, it’s time to leave.”

Zhuang did not respond.

“Reluctant?” Old Kui asked woodenly.

Zhuang stretched lazily, smiling faintly. “Yes… the scenery here is nice, life’s peaceful, there’s food and drink. Leaving now… I admit, I’m a little reluctant.”

“Is that what you’re reluctant about?”

Zhuang continued gazing into the dark mountains, saying nothing.

“Do not let karma entangle too deeply,” Old Kui warned.

“Let me wait a bit longer,” Zhuang sighed softly. “Once I’ve taught them all they need to know… I’ll go. Otherwise, I won’t feel at ease.”

Old Kui frowned. “Stay too long, and once they divine your location, your life will hang by a thread.”

“I know my limits. There’s still some time,” Zhuang replied with unshaken composure.

“As long as you know,” Old Kui said indifferently, then fell silent.

The bamboo chamber sank into stillness.

The night grew deeper; the moonlight colder.

After an indeterminate time, Zhuang spoke again:

“Old Kui… how long do you think I can keep hiding?”

No answer.

Perhaps Old Kui had already left.

Or perhaps he heard—but did not know how to answer.

Zhuang’s eyes darkened, and he smiled faintly, tinged with self-mockery.

Meanwhile, Mo Hua had returned home. After dinner, he went to his desk and began drawing the Spirit-Reversal Formation.

He had already learned it. Now he practiced to temper his Divine-Sense and refine his mastery.

A first-grade, ten-rune Spirit-Reversal Formation was difficult both to learn and to draw.

Mo Hua could barely complete it—his strokes were unsteady, his runes indistinct, his grasp of the formation’s core shallow, and his Divine-Sense only barely sufficient. He needed much repetition before he could truly master it.

Bent over the desk, Mo Hua concentrated deeply, his small hand gripping the brush, painstakingly tracing each rune.

By the time he finished, his Divine-Sense was nearly exhausted. He sat quietly to meditate and recover.

During meditation, sinister thoughts arose, sprouting and stirring his heart.

Following Mister Zhuang’s teachings, Mo Hua tempered his heart with those evil thoughts.

When such thoughts surfaced, he did not fear or flee. With a heart like a polished mirror, he reflected upon himself—neutralizing the malice, and little by little, in the midst of chaos and desire, he strengthened his true heart.

After some time, the wicked impulses faded, and his Divine-Sense replenished.

He practiced the Spirit-Reversal Formation once more, rested briefly, then began planning his Foundation Establishment.

Before, he had merely thought of forming his foundation, without knowing how or what preparations were needed.

Only after asking Mister Zhuang did he gain clarity.

Simply put, before Foundation Establishment, one must refine the Divine-Sense to its utmost. That way, after the breakthrough, the Divine-Sense would multiply—laying the groundwork for his eventual Dao Foundation through the Proving of the Dao via Divine-Sense.

First, he must continue cultivating until the ninth layer of Qi-Refining.

He had once been impatient to establish his foundation quickly, but now he sought to polish his realm and strengthen his Divine-Sense—no longer in such haste.

With a calm heart and steady practice, the breakthrough would come naturally.

Aside from cultivation, Divine-Sense remained the key.

He was now at the seventh layer of Qi-Refining, with two more minor breakthroughs ahead. Each would strengthen his Divine-Sense further.

By studying the Spirit-Reversal Formation and training with the Dao Monument, his Divine-Sense would steadily grow.

Once he mastered the Spirit-Reversal Formation, Mister Zhuang had promised to teach him more.

If Mo Hua guessed right, it would be how to collapse a formation through the Spirit-Reversal Array.

He remembered Mister Zhuang’s words:

“When a formation collapses, the spiritual energy within reverses its flow through the rune framework, clashing, cycling through creation and destruction—producing an unimaginably powerful fluctuation, an ultimate and unfathomable force…”

Mo Hua had been astonished, and his curiosity burned—just how powerful could such a collapse be, if even Mister Zhuang found it beyond comprehension?

After that, Zhuang would likely teach him other “Heavenly Dao Anomalies” among formations, for him to study.

Mo Hua longed to know—did those anomalous arrays truly defy the limits of ordinary cultivators’ capabilities?

How did they differ from the Spirit-Reversal Formation or other first-grade arrays?

And then there was the Visualization Diagram.

If the divine consciousness within those diagrams wasn’t too strong—could he really “consume” them to strengthen his own mind?

Devour the diagram to refine the spirit; temper the heart with evil thoughts.

With the Dao Monument’s suppression, perhaps the risk wasn’t as great as imagined.

Still, “eating diagrams” was best left as a backup plan—such diagrams were rare, and Mo Hua had no idea where to find them.

Nor could he discern their true nature—whether the consciousness within was wicked or ghostly, strong or weak—too dangerous to act rashly.

“I’ll deal with the Visualization Diagrams later…”

Even without them, as long as he completed the tasks before him, he could refine his Divine-Sense far beyond the Foundation stage.

With a powerful Divine-Sense, learning second-grade formations would be effortless—and becoming a second-grade formation master would be within reach.

What powers would second-grade formations wield? What effects could they achieve?

If he managed to master one, would he be the youngest second-grade formation master alive?

The cultivation world was vast and full of prodigies—but even if not the youngest, surely among the youngest few.

Mo Hua couldn’t help but feel excited, a spark of admiration for Mister Zhuang rising in his heart.

Without his teacher’s guidance, he could never have progressed this far, this fast—not to mention becoming a first-grade formation master and learning arts beyond that level.

At that thought, Mo Hua’s brow furrowed slightly.

Lately, Mister Zhuang seemed… off.

He appeared more lethargic than before—sleepier, wearier. Had something gone wrong with his cultivation?

Though outwardly as lazy and untroubled as ever, Mo Hua’s keen eyes, after spending so long with him, could sense that something wasn’t right.

“Teacher… is he alright…”

Mo Hua felt a pang of unease.

(End of Chapter)