Chapter 320: The Truth

How did Mo Hua know?

Had he seen that pig before?

Impossible.

Qian Xing’s expression froze in shock.

Mo Hua’s face was expressionless — yet his heart was even more shaken than Qian Xing’s.

He hadn’t expected that someone from the Qian Family had indeed been to Black Mountain Stronghold, and that person… turned out to be Qian Xing!

Then—who had taken him there?

Mo Hua asked coldly: “Who brought you to that place?”

Qian Xing refused to answer.

Mo Hua’s tone deepened. “You think that if you don’t say it, I won’t know?”

Qian Xing stiffened his neck. “If you already know, then why ask me?”

Mo Hua paused — for once, this fool wasn’t completely stupid. At the worst possible time, he’d suddenly become clever.

“Keep your mouth shut then — just don’t expect to walk out of here alive,” Mo Hua threatened lightly.

“If I tell you, my great-grandfather won’t let me live either!”

Mo Hua’s eyes narrowed.

“Great-grandfather?”

Qian Xing’s face instantly went pale.

Mo Hua stared at him, his expression unreadable.

A moment ago, he had just thought Qian Xing wasn’t an idiot — and in the very next breath, the fool had confessed everything himself.

He’d said his great-grandfather wouldn’t spare him. That meant the one who brought him into the mountains was—

His great-grandfather.

And Qian Xing’s great-grandfather was…

The Qian Family Patriarch himself!

Mo Hua’s gaze turned to ice.

So it was him.

The Qian Family Patriarch.

If Mo Hua remembered correctly, rumor had it the old patriarch was half-buried in his coffin already — a dying man.

Between life and death lies boundless fear.

So, to stave off death… he’d refined Human Life-Extending Pills.

Qian Xing was now pale as death, trembling as he asked,

“What… what exactly do you know?”

Mo Hua looked at him, but instead of answering, he asked,

“You’ve been to Black Mountain Stronghold, haven’t you?”

Qian Xing blinked in confusion.

“What’s that place?”

So… he didn’t even know where he had gone.

Mo Hua pressed,

“Then why did your great-grandfather take you into the mountains — and let you witness him feeding a demon beast with humans?”

If Mo Hua was right, most of the Qian Family disciples knew nothing about this.

Even many of the elders likely didn’t.

The Qian Patriarch had feared discovery; even within the clan he kept it secret, lest word leak to the Dao Court Division, bringing Dao Soldiers down to exterminate them.

But then—why tell Qian Xing?

Though of direct bloodline, Qian Xing was a spoiled wastrel — a decent spiritual root, but lazy, arrogant, and obsessed with bullying the weak. Hardly the type the Qian Family would groom as a core heir.

“I won’t tell you anything,” Qian Xing said stubbornly, face dark as iron.

Mo Hua simply stared at him.

“But you already have. You’ve told me the Qian Family’s greatest secret.”

Qian Xing’s eyes went wide.

“No! That’s impossible — how could that be a secret…”

Mo Hua’s tone grew colder.

“Do you even know what your great-grandfather has done?”

Qian Xing muttered blankly,

“He just killed someone. Fed a demon beast. So what? It wasn’t a Qian clansman — what does their life or death matter to me?”

Mo Hua’s gaze deepened.

“So you really don’t know anything.”

Qian Xing blinked in confusion.

“Don’t know what?”

“If I report this to the Dao Court Division,” Mo Hua said flatly, “your entire Qian Family could be executed to the last member.”

Qian Xing’s pupils shrank.

“That’s impossible! Just for killing a person? Just for that—how could that—”

Mo Hua’s eyes glinted.

“You don’t have to worry, though. You likely won’t live to see that day.”

He smiled faintly.

“Because you leaked the secret. Your great-grandfather will probably kill you first.”

“You’re lying!”

“Then shall we bet on it?”

Qian Xing trembled with fury and fear.

Bet? What use was a bet — win or lose, he’d still die.

He didn’t want to believe Mo Hua, yet deep down, he knew the youth was right.

This secret was forbidden.

If an outsider knew, his great-grandfather would kill him without hesitation — even if he was his own descendant.

So… should he kill Mo Hua first? Then no one would know.

That thought flickered — and died just as quickly.

Mo Hua was no longer the same as before. Qian Xing knew he wasn’t Mo Hua’s match — not in strength, not even in wit.

Even if he tried some trick, Mo Hua would see right through him.

Despair surged like drowning — and then he caught a faint glimmer of hope.

He dropped to his knees with a loud thud.

“Mo Hua! Please—save me! You’re smart, you can save me, right?”

Mo Hua remained unmoved.

“Save you? Have you lost your mind? I’ve already spared your life — for now.”

“I’ll tell you everything! Just save me!”

Mo Hua’s eyes flickered.

“Everything?”

Qian Xing nodded frantically.

“Yes! Everything I know!”

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then sat down on a nearby tree stump.

“All right. Then start from the beginning. Tell me everything about your great-grandfather feeding humans to that beast.”

Qian Xing hesitated.

Mo Hua said evenly,

“As long as you speak, I’ll tell you how to save yourself.”

After a moment of internal struggle, Qian Xing clenched his teeth.

“Fine.”

He took a deep breath and began, face pale:

“When I was seven, I went to visit my great-grandfather. I got tired and fell asleep on his bed. Half asleep, I was startled awake by a noise. When I opened my eyes, I saw my great-grandfather’s arm… pierce straight through a cultivator’s chest.”

“Who was the cultivator?” Mo Hua asked.

“I don’t know,” Qian Xing shook his head. “It’s been too many years. I can’t remember his face clearly. I only remember him shouting, ‘The Qian Family will die for this!’ before he died.”

So he was likely someone seeking revenge. The Qian Family had made more than enough enemies through the years.

“Was he in the Foundation Establishment Realm?”

“Probably.” Qian Xing nodded, then went on,

“When I saw all that blood, I screamed. My great-grandfather was startled — my cultivation was so low, my aura too faint, he hadn’t noticed me. Then he warned me not to speak of what I’d seen.”

Mo Hua frowned.

“Someone came seeking vengeance, your great-grandfather killed him — that’s nothing shocking. Why forbid you to speak of it?”

Qian Xing shook his head.

“It wasn’t that he told me to keep that secret.”

Mo Hua paused.

“Then what?”

Qian Xing hesitated for a long time before confessing quietly,

“My great-grandfather’s end was near. His spiritual power waning, his body aging. Usually, he looked old and kind, frail and stooped — but that night…”

Qian Xing swallowed, voice trembling.

“His eyes were red. His body strong and full of vitality. His hair only half white. He looked… terrifying.”

Mo Hua’s heart jolted.

So it was true.

The Qian Patriarch had consumed Human Life-Extending Pills to prolong his life.

“What happened next?” Mo Hua pressed.

Qian Xing shivered.

“My great-grandfather looked at me — there was killing intent in his eyes. I kowtowed, called him ‘Great-Grandfather,’ begged him through tears not to kill me, promised I’d tell no one. He hesitated… then asked me, ‘Do you want to become the head of the Qian Family?’

“I said I didn’t. He frowned — so I quickly said, ‘I do!’ Only then did he smile and say, ‘Then come with me.’”

Mo Hua’s eyelid twitched.

“He took you to the Great Black Mountain?”

Qian Xing nodded.

“Where exactly?”

“I don’t know,” Qian Xing said. “I was dazed. He carried me into a pill chamber — everything inside was red. The walls, the furnace, the herbs… even the floor tiles looked like they were made of blood. The air was suffocating.

“And inside the chamber… was a pig.”

Mo Hua’s pupils contracted.

Qian Xing continued, voice shaking,

“My great-grandfather… fed that cultivator to the pig — right in front of me.”

When he said this, Qian Xing’s expression twisted in anguish.

“But… but that cultivator wasn’t dead yet! He was screaming in agony while being eaten alive… that look on his face — I can’t ever forget it!”

By the time he finished, cold sweat drenched him. He panted heavily, trembling all over.

He had kept this secret buried for years — never dared speak it aloud.

And he’d been haunted by nightmares ever since — always reliving the scene of the pig demon devouring a man alive.

That was why, under illusion spells, he had gone completely mad — because what he saw in the illusion… was that very nightmare.

Illusions made one relive reality — he had felt as though he himself were being swallowed, piece by piece, by that monstrous pig.

Mo Hua sighed softly, then frowned.

“Yet I’ve seen you act arrogant and cruel — nothing like someone haunted by trauma.”

Qian Xing’s arrogance was gone. Pale-faced, he whispered,

“It was my great-grandfather. He told me… not to think of people as people.”

Mo Hua’s brow furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

Qian Xing explained:

“After that night, I kept having nightmares. My great-grandfather told me: ‘You’re scared because you still see that dead cultivator as human. But if you don’t see him as human — just a pig eating a dog, a dog eating a pig — what’s there to fear?’

He told me:

‘To accomplish great things, one mustn’t treat people as people.

Other than the Qian Family — no, other than yourself — no one else truly counts as human.

They’re pigs, dogs, cattle, horses — labor, tools, stepping stones on your path to immortality.

Step upon them, and ascend.’

“After that, I stopped seeing other cultivators as people.

They labor for my Qian Family — that’s their duty.

That cultivator who was eaten — he wasn’t human either. He died, so what? He was food for pigs.”

Qian Xing let out a broken laugh.

“Once I thought like that… the nightmares stopped.”

For when one has extinguished their humanity, there remains no guilt to dream of.

(End of Chapter)