Chapter 307: The Invitation
At the edge of the Misty Forest, Commander Yang had been waiting for quite some time. Growing uneasy, he asked,
“Nothing’s gone wrong in there, has it…?”
Zhang Lan thought for a moment and replied,
“The forest hasn’t stirred at all—should be fine.”
Yang Tongling nodded but frowned.
“You’re not worried?”
“If he’d gone into Black Mountain Stronghold, then I’d worry,” Zhang Lan said casually. “But the Misty Forest’s huge—he can dodge or escape easily. We’re waiting right here for him; there’s nothing to worry about.”
Yang Tongling blinked. “He’s been to Black Mountain Stronghold?”
Zhang Lan nodded. “All that intel you’ve been using? That kid sneaked in himself, listened from behind walls, and brought it back.”
Yang Tongling sucked in a breath. “Didn’t you say the information came from your Dao Court Division—?”
Before he could finish, realization dawned. “Ah… Zhang Lan, you shameless bastard. You roped him under your Dao Court Division again, didn’t you?”
Zhang Lan corrected with a straight face, “He is one of us—an auxiliary still counts.”
Yang Tongling thought for a moment, then frowned.
“The intel’s from him, the map’s from him, and the formation’s broken by him… so what exactly did your Dao Court Division do?”
Zhang Lan was momentarily speechless. After a beat, he forced a laugh.
“Well… we submitted the intel to the Dao Court and got you mobilized.”
Even he didn’t sound confident saying it; his voice trailed smaller and smaller.
Yang Tongling gave him a look of pure disdain.
“Remarkable… truly remarkable.”
Zhang Lan sighed. “Can’t be helped—by the time we knew anything, the kid had already figured it all out. Besides…”
He turned serious.
“No one else could have infiltrated Black Mountain Stronghold unseen, nor drawn that map.”
Yang Tongling paused, and the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.
To achieve that, one needed stealth arts, mastery of formations, powerful Divine-Sense, and the courage and cunning to act alone.
Even their most experienced scouts couldn’t have slipped into the stronghold undetected—much less uncovered anything meaningful.
And formations… well, few cultivators could truly grasp those.
The more Yang Tongling thought about it, the more impressed he became.
That child was indeed a prodigy—brave, clever, decisive, skilled in stealth and formations both.
He fell silent, deep in thought.
Zhang Lan eyed him suspiciously.
“You’re not scheming something, are you?”
Expression blank, Yang Tongling shook his head. “No.”
Behind the rocks, the two grew bored. Zhang Lan chewed a blade of grass and began doodling on the ground, imitating Mo Hua.
Only, while Mo Hua drew formations, Zhang Lan drew a fat, ugly caricature of Yang Tongling getting beaten up and running away.
Yang Tongling ignored him, his attention fixed on the forest, vigilant for any change. Several squads of Dao soldiers were equally on guard.
After an unknown while, Yang Tongling’s brow twitched—someone was approaching.
He couldn’t see them, nor detect them with Divine-Sense, but he heard faint footsteps, and the soft crunch of gravel shifting.
Someone was indeed walking straight toward them.
A moment later, the figure stopped before him and appeared in plain sight.
Small and delicate-featured—it was Mo Hua.
Yang Tongling exhaled in relief.
Mo Hua grinned, lifted a rolled map, and said brightly,
“Done drawing!”
Yang Tongling took it, eyes lighting up as he looked over the map—trees, paths, and every mist-array neatly charted.
“Excellent! Without you, we’d never have untangled the illusions of this forest.”
Mo Hua smiled modestly.
Yang Tongling folded the map and suddenly flashed him a wide, almost obsequious smile—so friendly and enthusiastic it looked unnatural.
Mo Hua blinked. In his impression, Commander Yang wasn’t like this at all; he looked almost possessed.
Even Zhang Lan got goosebumps watching.
“Master Mo,” Yang Tongling said warmly, “would you like to see the formations our Dao soldiers use?”
Mo Hua blinked. “Aren’t those classified? Am I even allowed?”
Yang Tongling nodded furiously. “Classified, yes—but if you want to see them, no problem at all!”
“Really?”
“Really, truly!”
Zhang Lan interjected, “Really?”
Yang Tongling shot him a glare. “You keep out of this. Even if you looked, you wouldn’t understand.”
“Who wants to?” Zhang Lan muttered.
Soon, escorted by Yang Tongling and several Dao soldier squads, Mo Hua returned to Nameless Peak, to the mine cave that served as their base.
Yang Tongling produced a set of armor and a long spear, handing them to Mo Hua.
“These are spares. Take a look—take them apart if you want. Just report the damage later and have the Armament Division repair it.”
“Wouldn’t that be improper?”
Yang Tongling waved dismissively. “Not at all. Weapons are for use—damage is normal.”
Reassured, Mo Hua inspected the spear and ran his fingers over the armor.
Both were first-grade spirit artifacts forged of refined iron—finer than the monster-hunters’ gear, with superior metal and craftsmanship.
No wonder it’s Dao Court-issue, Mo Hua thought.
He applied a bit of strength to pry it open but found he was too weak to dismantle it.
He looked at Yang Tongling.
Yang Tongling personally stepped forward and helped take it apart, revealing the formation within.
As soon as the plates were separated, the inner formation dulled and fell apart.
Mo Hua was surprised.
Yang Tongling explained,
“This is a Dao Court heritage design. To prevent leakage, the array self-nullifies when forcibly opened.”
Ah, that made sense.
Mo Hua nodded.
Though the formation was ruined, the general array patterns were still visible.
He spread the armor open and began studying it carefully.
It was a metal-element formation—first-grade by appearance—but with more than nine array-runes.
“A formation beyond first-grade?” Mo Hua was startled.
After simulating the spiritual flow in his mind, he realized it was still an ordinary first-grade array; only nine of the runes were functional.
The rest were dummies—meant to obscure the true design and prevent leaks.
Moreover, it wasn’t a single array at all but part of a composite array.
After some thought, Mo Hua understood:
Each squad of Dao soldiers wore identical armor. When activated together, the individual arrays linked into a compound formation, resonating to amplify its effects.
The single formation wasn’t rare—it was an ordinary Metal-Element array. The key lay in the array-core that synchronized them.
That coordination node balanced distance and resonance between individual formations.
Such a structure, Mo Hua had never seen before—his curiosity was thoroughly piqued.
But since each node linked ten sets of armor, he’d need all ten to study it properly.
Dismantling one piece was already indulgent; ten would be outrageous.
After examining it fully, he asked,
“Does this armor need to be sent for repair?”
Yang Tongling nodded. “Yes.”
“Could I try repairing it myself?”
Yang Tongling raised a brow. “You want to repair it?”
Mo Hua nodded.
Yang Tongling thought a moment, then agreed. “Fine. Do as you like—it’s already broken.”
Mo Hua took out his formation brush and metal-element ink, tracing rune after rune to restore the damaged lines.
Within moments, the armor was whole again.
Yang Tongling reassembled it, infused it with spiritual power—then froze.
“It’s… actually fixed?”
“Just lucky,” Mo Hua said shyly.
The commander’s eyes shone brightly. After a moment, he asked,
“Master Mo, what do you think of this formation?”
“It’s ingenious,” Mo Hua replied truthfully.
“Would you like to learn it?”
Mo Hua blinked. “Am I even allowed?”
“Of course! There’s just one small condition…”
“What condition?”
“Join the Dao Soldier Division!”
Yang Tongling beamed, warm and earnest.
“As long as you enlist, you can study all the Dao soldier formations you want—no limits!”
Zhang Lan spat. “So that’s what you were scheming.”
Yang Tongling snorted. “If he can join your Dao Court Division, why not the Dao Soldier Division?”
“The Dao Soldier Division’s nothing but fighting and killing all day.”
“At least our soldiers stand shoulder to shoulder, speaking through deeds, not politics—unlike your back-stabbing bureaucrats in the Division.”
“Bullshit!”
“Ha! See? Struck a nerve, didn’t I?” sneered Yang Tongling. “And besides—status and background aren’t a problem. He could always marry into the Yang family…”
Zhang Lan spat again. “What dream are you having? If anyone gets that honor, it’s the Zhang family! He’s learned my Flowing-Water Step… if he’s marrying anywhere, it’s to us. What’ve you got, Yang Jiyong, other than a big face?”
(End of Chapter)