Chapter 323: Calculated Murder
Old Master An took a sip of tea before finally speaking:
“Back in the day, when my An Family competed with the Qian Family for profit, we weren’t at a disadvantage from the start.”
“At first, both sides won and lost in turns. But the Qian Family valued profit above all, their disciples were selfish and greedy, while our An Family was harmonious and united. We didn’t exploit our people like they did, so as our struggle went on, we gradually gained the upper hand.”
“At that time, more than half of the artifact forging and pill refining businesses in Tōngxiān City were under our An Family’s control. The Qian Family was already on the verge of losing…”
Mo Hua asked, “Did something unexpected happen?”
Old Master An nodded and sighed heavily.
“Yes. A great calamity. Our An Family took on a commission…”
“It was the biggest business deal our family had ever accepted. If we could complete it, the Qian Family wouldn’t be able to compete with us for a hundred years.”
“We’d prepared everything. As long as we safely transported the goods out of Tōngxiān City and delivered them to nearby Runan City, the deal would’ve been done.”
“For this, I specifically assigned our An Family’s only Foundation Establishment elder to lead the convoy—fifty elite disciples as escorts, and two hundred more cultivators accompanying them.”
“With that much strength, even the Qian Family wouldn’t dare underestimate us. And they certainly wouldn’t risk a head-on confrontation—too many would die, and it’d benefit no one.”
“I thought I’d considered every possibility, that our preparations were watertight. But I never expected… never expected…”
Regret and pain surfaced on Old Master An’s face.
“Never expected that once they entered Great Black Mountain, they would never come back!”
“Not a single one!”
“All of them vanished in Great Black Mountain!”
His face trembled; his emotions surged violently.
Mo Hua quickly poured him another cup of tea. After a few sips, the old man steadied himself and continued:
“This wasn’t just a heavy loss—it struck at the very foundation of the An Family. It was like someone had cut out a piece of my heart!”
“Afterward, I went into Great Black Mountain myself. No matter how hard I searched, I couldn’t find the elder, nor any of our disciples. It was as if they had vanished from existence.”
“I even ventured deep into the mountains despite the danger, but the mist was too thick. I found no clues, and I dared not go further, so I returned.”
Mo Hua asked, “Did you ever suspect the Qian Family?”
Old Master An nodded.
“They were the first I suspected.”
“But I checked carefully. On the day our people entered the mountain, the Qian Family’s patriarch and most of their Foundation Establishment elders never left their estate—they hadn’t entered Great Black Mountain at all. They didn’t have the opportunity to act…”
“Still, it had to be them!”
Old Master An gritted his teeth, his eyes filled with cold hatred.
Mo Hua asked quietly, “How do you know?”
The old man hesitated. He hadn’t wanted to drag Mo Hua into the matter, but since the boy clearly already knew something—and since this was all ancient history now—he relented.
“At first, I wasn’t sure it was the Qian Family. But later, because of a certain pill furnace, our families clashed again.”
“Though we had been severely weakened, I refused to bow my head. But the Qian patriarch said to me…”
‘No one can compete with the Qian Family. In Great Black Mountain, whoever I wish to disappear—disappears.’
Old Master An sighed deeply.
“After that, I knew. It was all the Qian Family’s doing. Their strength was far beyond what I imagined—and their cruelty, even more so.”
“I wanted to drag them down with us, but the rest of the An Family still needed to live. If we fought them to the death, the Qian Family might survive, but the An Family would vanish completely.”
Mo Hua’s gaze sharpened.
“Then you know what the Qian Family actually did?”
Old Master An shook his head, but then his expression hardened.
“You know?”
Mo Hua nodded.
Old Master An was stunned.
“How do you know?”
“Have you heard of Black Mountain Stronghold?” Mo Hua asked.
The old man nodded slightly.
“A den of evil cultivators in the mountains. I heard they were recently wiped out by Dao Soldiers.”
He froze mid-sentence.
“You mean—?”
Mo Hua nodded again.
“Black Mountain Stronghold was secretly founded by the Qian Family patriarch. The An Family’s disciples were killed by those evil cultivators. Outwardly, the Qian patriarch never lifted a hand—but he was the one pulling the strings.”
Old Master An’s eyes widened, then clouded with grief.
“So that’s how it was…”
Now it all made sense.
His disciples hadn’t technically died by the Qian Family’s hands—yet their deaths were still the Qian Family’s doing.
Old Master An’s eyes sharpened again.
“You didn’t come to me just to say all this, did you?”
“I wanted to confirm the link between the Qian patriarch and Black Mountain Stronghold,” Mo Hua said, “and to ask whether you want revenge.”
The old man’s gaze deepened.
“Revenge?”
Mo Hua nodded.
“The Qian patriarch extended his life by taking Longevity Pills. He’ll live a long while yet—long enough to become a true calamity. Better to strike first.”
Old Master An considered for a moment.
“How many people do you have?”
“Quite a few.”
Mo Hua briefly listed them—the Demon Hunters, the Dao Court Division, and the Dao Soldiers Division.
Without hesitation, Old Master An said:
“Good. Count the An Family in!”
“If that old dog from the Qian Family doesn’t die, Tōngxiān City will never know peace!”
Mo Hua had only intended to gather information—proof that the Qian patriarch was tied to Black Mountain Stronghold.
He hadn’t expected the An Family’s grudge to run so deep, nor that Old Master An would personally join their cause. It was an unexpected boon.
When Mo Hua reported everything to Elder Yu, the elder finally breathed easier.
Though weakened, the An Family was still the second-largest clan in Tōngxiān City. With their support, the odds against the Qian Family improved significantly.
An hour later, Zhang Lan and Mo Shan returned.
Elder Yu asked, “What did you find?”
Zhang Lan nodded.
“We had someone pose as an evil cultivator to talk to the Second Leader of Black Mountain Stronghold. He reacted to nothing else, but when we said ‘the First Leader is dead,’ he opened his eyes, sneered, and said it was impossible. Then we added, ‘Even the Chief is dead,’ and he laughed again, saying that was even more impossible.”
“Which means—the Stronghold really had a Chief, and he wasn’t the same person as the First Leader!”
Mo Hua relayed Old Master An’s story and asked Commander Yang,
“Is this evidence enough?”
Yang Jiyong thought for a moment.
“Not entirely conclusive—but enough. When it comes to evil cultivators, we’d rather kill wrongly than let one go. If we wait too long and the Qian Family catches wind, we’ll lose our chance.”
Elder Yu nodded.
“Once we move, we’ll know the truth. If the Stronghold Chief is indeed the Qian patriarch—we execute him on the spot.”
“If he isn’t, I’ll personally apologize to the Qian Family. I’ve insulted them plenty already—one more apology won’t kill me.”
Yang Jiyong nodded.
“Then it’s settled. Let’s plan our strike and exterminate the Qian patriarch.”
They spent the rest of the day strategizing.
By evening, Old Master An arrived in secret, dressed in black.
After brief greetings, he revealed several confidential details—the Qian Family’s estate layout, the patriarch’s cultivation method, his Dao techniques, and preferred combat tactics.
Mo Hua listened silently.
He knew little about Foundation Establishment cultivators—how their spiritual power flowed, or how to fight one.
His own skills couldn’t harm a Foundation Establishment expert.
The only thing that might work was using his Divine-Sense derivations to collapse formations—but that required long calculations, and he hadn’t finished them yet.
So he simply listened and learned:
How to design a plan to slay a powerful enemy cultivator.
How to assess an opponent’s strength—their cultivation, techniques, Dao arts, and artifacts.
How to gauge the power needed for success.
How to allocate forces, coordinate attacks, and minimize casualties.
Each of them—Commander Yang, Zhang Lan, Elder Yu, and Mo Shan—was experienced in such matters, each with their own specialties.
They debated, refined, and integrated their plans, combining their strengths.
Mo Hua quietly memorized everything, turning it over in his mind.
He couldn’t use this knowledge yet—but one day, it might save his life.
After two days and one night of planning, everything was ready.
The operation to slay the Qian Family patriarch—had begun.
(End of Chapter)