Chapter 326: Disposition
The fact that the Qian Family Patriarch was a Demonic Cultivator spread quickly throughout Tōngxiān City.
Everyone was surprised—yet somehow, not surprised at all.
After all, the Qian Family’s reputation had long been abysmal, and they had far too many enemies.
Because of their Patriarch’s crimes, the Qian Family was placed under strict confinement. No cultivator was permitted to leave the premises—any violator would be treated as one colluding with a Demonic Cultivator.
Once the Patriarch was found, the Dao Court Division would pass judgment, and punishment would follow.
…
“What do you think will become of the Qian Family?”
Inside the Dao Court Division, Mo Hua asked the question as he sipped tea with Supervisor Zhou.
Mo Hua had come to assist Zhou with his work.
Though the Qian Patriarch had escaped, his cave-dwelling remained. The Dao Court Division had already confiscated everything within it, searching for clues or incriminating evidence.
As for formations, Zhou was no expert—so he invited Mo Hua to inspect them.
Mo Hua, carrying out the task entrusted to him by the Old Supervisor, examined everything thoroughly, identifying several demonic formations and even uncovering evidence that confirmed the Qian Patriarch’s connection to the Black Mountain Stronghold.
With such evidence submitted to the Dao Court, the case would stand solid, and Zhou’s written report would be well-grounded.
After a while, Zhou invited Mo Hua for tea. During the short break, Mo Hua asked his question.
Zhou’s injuries had not fully healed—his face still pale, his cough lingering. After a few breaths, he said slowly,
“The Qian Patriarch must be captured and executed without question—according to Dao Law, as a warning to others.”
“As for the rest of the Qian Family… their fate could go either way.”
Mo Hua blinked. “How so?”
“If one judges harshly, it’s simple. I could submit to the Dao Court that the Qian Family colluded with the Black Mountain Stronghold, worked with Demonic Cultivators, and murdered for profit. In that case, most of them would be executed. Those who survive would be exiled, stripped of their surname, and driven out of Tōngxiān City.”
“If one judges leniently, the claim would be that all of it was the Patriarch’s doing—that the rest of the Qian Family knew nothing. Then the Dao Court’s punishment would not be so severe. At worst, they’d lose their wealth and estates, but most lives would be spared.”
Zhou’s expression was kind, his tone patient as he explained.
Mo Hua frowned in surprise. “There’s so much room for manipulation? Wouldn’t that breed corruption?”
Zhou choked on his tea, coughed violently, and glared.
“You brat… you dare say anything!”
Mo Hua gave an embarrassed laugh.
Zhou sighed helplessly. “But… you’re right. It does.”
He sighed again. “That’s why in this world, some who commit great crimes walk away untouched because the Dao Court shields them, while others who make minor mistakes are exterminated to the last man for offending the wrong official.”
“I tell you this not so that you’ll bribe or accept bribes—but so that you’ll understand how things work here. So you won’t suffer for ignorance.”
“There are matters that, once you know the way, are easily resolved. But if you walk blind, no matter how much effort you spend, you’ll find yourself blocked at every turn, humiliated and defeated.”
Zhou’s tone grew earnest.
He had spent most of his life within the Dao Court Division and knew its inner workings intimately.
These things weren’t deep or complex—but to cultivators outside the Court, without a guide, one might live a lifetime without ever grasping them.
Mo Hua felt sincere gratitude for Zhou’s advice and patted his chest.
“Supervisor, if you ever need a formation drawn, just find me!”
Zhou couldn’t help but laugh. “All right then, I’ll count on you, little Formation Master!”
Mo Hua nodded confidently.
Within the realm of First-Grade Formations, he could stand with hands in his pockets, fearless and unrivaled—save, of course, for Mister Zhuang.
Then he asked again, “So, how will the Qian Family be dealt with?”
Zhou countered, “What do you think?”—his gaze holding a trace of testing intent.
Mo Hua rested his chin on one hand, thinking.
“I think neither extreme is good…”
“If the punishment’s too harsh, too many will die. Even if many of them committed evil, there are bound to be innocents among them. Killing indiscriminately isn’t right.”
“But if the punishment’s too lenient, the Qian Family won’t learn their lesson—and might become even worse later.”
“The best approach is to review their old crimes, execute those with blood on their hands, imprison others as warning examples. Then confiscate their wealth. As for the remaining cultivators—let them live hard lives. Make them refine tools, concoct pills, or hunt beasts themselves.”
“When people live in comfort, they grow corrupt. But when they toil daily and collapse into sleep at night, they’ve no energy left for wickedness.”
Zhou’s eyes brightened at that.
No vindictive cruelty, no naive mercy—clear distinction between right and wrong, and punishment fitting the deed.
What a good child…
Zhou chuckled. “Well said—though you sound like one of those old fogeys who insist on the Middle Way in all things.”
Mo Hua muttered, “Then I’ll be an old fogey, so long as it works.”
As long as things were handled properly, that was enough.
…
Leaving the Dao Court Division, Mo Hua was heading home when he ran into Master Luo.
“Ah, Young Master Mo, what a coincidence,” said Luo with a smile.
But from his expression, it was clear he’d come deliberately—there was nothing “coincidental” about it.
“Master Luo, what brings you here?”
“Chance meetings are fate,” Luo said lightly. “I’ve recently acquired a fine Dragon-Embossed Tea Cake. Might Young Master Mo honor me with his company for a tasting?”
Mo Hua had already drunk enough tea to fill a pond, and was about to refuse—but Luo was insistent, and his curiosity about this so-called “Dragon-Embossed Tea” got the better of him. He nodded in agreement.
Luo personally led Mo Hua to his cave-dwelling, carefully unsealed the tea cake, brewed it himself, and handed Mo Hua the cup with both hands.
“Please.”
The tea gleamed pale gold, like dragon’s saliva; the aroma rich and deep as dragon musk.
It was far superior to the tea Zhou had offered earlier.
Mo Hua couldn’t help thinking—by the looks of it, Master Luo was living quite a bit more “comfortably” than Supervisor Zhou…
“Excellent tea,” Mo Hua praised.
He didn’t know what exactly made it good—but it was undeniably delicious.
Luo beamed, clearly pleased.
After another small sip, Mo Hua leaned closer and asked quietly, “So… what’s the real reason you called me here?”
“No reason,” Luo said airily. “Just tea.”
Mo Hua gave him a look that said plainly, ‘I was born yesterday, sure.’
Luo gave an awkward cough, finally lowering his voice.
“Master Qian wishes to see you.”
“Master Qian?”
Luo sighed. “The whole city’s abuzz with the Qian Patriarch’s scandal. The family is under lockdown, and Master Qian cannot leave. He’s worried sick about their fate, and thus sent word through intermediaries—hoping to meet you.”
“But… why me?” Mo Hua asked, puzzled.
“Though Master Qian is a Formation Master, the Qian Family has few friends. In this matter, he’s helpless. You were the only one he could turn to.”
“What does he want to say to me?”
“I don’t know for sure. Likely to ask what will become of his family.”
Luo sighed softly. “A great clan, collapsing overnight—it’s pitiful.”
Mo Hua thought for a moment, then nodded. “All right.”
Luo’s face brightened. “Many thanks, Young Master Mo!”
…
Afterward, Mo Hua obtained a token of entry from Supervisor Zhou and went to the Qian residence to meet Master Qian.
Using his Divine-Sense, Mo Hua confirmed in advance that there were no elders or Foundation Establishment cultivators nearby—only Master Qian himself. Then he began their conversation.
As Luo had said, Master Qian merely asked about the Qian Family’s fate and the Dao Court’s handling of the matter.
To Mo Hua, it was a minor issue; to Master Qian, it was a question of life and death.
Yet since the decision lay with the Dao Court Division, Mo Hua could not overstep. He simply offered a few measured words:
“The Dao Court Division is fair. No one will strike at you while you’re down. The Qian Family has sinned, yes—but it won’t be annihilated to the last member.”
Master Qian exhaled in relief.
Mo Hua then asked, “Did you know anything about the Black Mountain Stronghold affair?”
Master Qian gave a bitter smile and shook his head.
He was a reclusive Formation Master—ten lives wouldn’t be enough for him to dare involvement with Demonic Cultivators.
Mo Hua nodded. “As long as you know nothing, you’ll be fine.”
Master Qian was a true First-Grade Formation Master—and such experts were rare anywhere.
Even if the Dao Court ruled harshly and wiped out the Qian Family, so long as he was truly uninvolved, they would still find a way to spare him—because of his value as a Formation Master.
Even if the Dao Court wouldn’t, Mo Hua himself would ask the Old Supervisor to intervene on his behalf.
Master Qian’s eyes softened with gratitude.
At the gate, he bowed apologetically.
“As one under house arrest, I can only see you off this far. Please forgive me, Young Master Mo.”
“You’re too polite, Master Qian.”
Mo Hua turned to leave—only to be stopped again.
Master Qian bowed deeply, solemnly declaring:
“For your great kindness, I have no words of thanks. Should you ever need me, Young Master Mo, I—Qian—will serve you unto death!”
“There’s no need for such formality.”
Mo Hua returned the bow, thinking that perhaps one day, he truly might need the man’s help.
(End of Chapter)