Chapter 364: Ripples

Mo Hua rested for a few days. Once he felt no serious harm remained, he went to visit Mister Zhuang.

Mister Zhuang was leaving.

Originally, Mo Hua had wanted to master the Divine-Sense Derivative Algorithm first and then surprise Mister Zhuang with it.

But now, that “surprise” might have been… a little too surprising.

However, Mister Zhuang didn’t seem to care—he didn’t even ask.

Mo Hua was puzzled.

“Sir, aren’t you going to ask what happened?”

Mister Zhuang glanced at him, shook his head slightly.

“What I know, you don’t need to say. What I don’t know, you don’t need to tell me. And don’t tell anyone else either—let no one know.”

Mo Hua was stunned for a moment, then nodded.

Mister Zhuang reminded him again,

“You can use the Divine-Sense Derivative Algorithm, but keep it low-key. Don’t let anyone see through it. If someone does, find a way to cover it up…”

“As for Formation Collapse, never use it again.”

His tone was deadly serious.

Mo Hua hesitated before whispering,

“But… if there’s no choice, if I have to use it?”

After all, who could predict what dangers might come? If disaster struck, he couldn’t just sit there and wait to die.

“If it truly cannot be avoided…” Mister Zhuang said faintly, “then make sure—after using it—no living being knows.”

Mo Hua’s heart trembled. He nodded again.

Mister Zhuang’s tone softened slightly as he looked at him.

“These are not things you should be learning at your current realm. If others find out, they’ll covet them—and you’ll invite calamity upon yourself.”

Especially Formation Collapse—that inheritance was a secret among secrets.

Mister Zhuang sighed.

He had only meant to teach Mo Hua the Divine-Sense Derivative Algorithm so he could grasp the basics and improve his understanding of formations. He hadn’t expected the boy to collapse an entire grand formation…

That was truly beyond his imagination.

Even now, thinking of that grand formation collapsing still made Mister Zhuang’s heart pound.

He knew Mo Hua must have some extraordinary fortune—he had sensed it long ago. And that fortune was likely even greater than he’d imagined.

But he didn’t want to probe.

Every cultivator had their own fated encounters.

And this fated young one… was his disciple.

Mister Zhuang wanted to keep Mo Hua’s secrets safe.

And the best way to keep a secret—was to not know it yourself.

The Divine-Sense was ethereal, elusive. Yet even the most illusory traces could still be tracked.

If someone knew, that knowledge could always be pried from them.

So the safest path—was to remain ignorant from the very beginning.

“Originally, there was nothing—so whence could dust arise?”

Mo Hua had been about to tell Mister Zhuang about the tribulation lightning and the array patterns, but since he had said that, it was better not to speak of it now.

Then he remembered something else.

“Sir, are you leaving soon?”

After all, he had learned the formation, the matter of Feng Xi was resolved—Mister Zhuang no longer had any reason to stay.

Besides, his aura had been weakening day by day.

Though his appearance seemed unchanged, his presence felt increasingly faint—subtly, almost imperceptibly fading away.

It was as if Mister Zhuang’s very existence was dissolving.

Mister Zhuang sighed lightly. “Yes.”

“Will I be able to see you again in the future?”

Mo Hua’s voice carried a trace of sadness.

Seeing the reluctance in the boy’s eyes, Mister Zhuang seemed to make up his mind. His tone was gentle but firm.

“You will.”

After Mo Hua left, Old Kui’s shadow appeared and frowned at Mister Zhuang.

“Don’t do anything unnecessary.”

“What do you mean by unnecessary?”

Old Kui’s tone grew annoyed. “You know very well what I mean. Don’t make me spell it out.”

Mister Zhuang fell silent. After a moment, his eyes glimmered slightly.

“I want… to take Mo Hua as my personal disciple.”

Old Kui muttered, just as I thought, and his tone turned sharper.

“If you want to die, that’s your business. Don’t drag the boy down with you. He’s just a minor cultivator—he can’t bear such heavy karmic ties.”

Mister Zhuang shook his head. “No. He has great destiny.”

Old Kui frowned.

Mister Zhuang recalled the events at Black Mountain.

“He was born from the collapse of a grand formation, struck by heavenly tribulation lightning and yet survived—that’s great destiny!”

Old Kui snorted. “Great destiny, my ass. He survived because he calculated the Life Gate himself, and the lightning never intended to kill him. Each event had its own cause and effect—nothing to do with so-called destiny.”

Fate was the kind of talk that fooled the ignorant, but not Old Kui.

Seeing that persuasion wouldn’t work, Mister Zhuang said softly,

“Even if not great destiny, at least he has a steadfast Dao Heart. Young as he is, his heart toward the Dao is vast and unwavering.”

This, Old Kui couldn’t deny. He sighed.

“You’ve really made up your mind?”

Mister Zhuang nodded slightly.

Old Kui warned,

“You carry no good karma upon you.”

Not just no good karma—his entire body was bound in deadly ones.

Mister Zhuang’s heart was bitter; he sighed softly. His gaze drifted far away.

“That’s why… I need to find a way to keep him untouched by it.”

Beneath the great locust tree, Mo Hua was sharing food with Bai Zisheng and Bai Zixi.

Before them was an array of exquisite pastries, snacks, meats, and rice wine—

all handmade by Liu Ruhua, who pitied Mo Hua and cooked them for him herself.

Unable to finish them alone, Mo Hua had sent some to Big Tiger and the others, and invited Zisheng and Zixi to eat the rest together.

After all, Mister Zhuang was leaving soon, and the three of them—his registered disciples—would part ways too.

After spending so much time together, Mo Hua couldn’t help but feel reluctant.

Bai Zisheng, happily eating, suddenly asked,

“So, when you’re hurt, Aunt Liu makes delicious food for you?”

Mo Hua nodded. “Of course.”

Bai Zisheng looked envious, and Bai Zixi’s eyes held the same wistful glow.

Mo Hua asked curiously, “Your mother doesn’t cook for you?”

Bai Zisheng sighed. “In all my years, not once. Not even a cup of water.”

Mo Hua was intrigued. “What’s your mother like?”

He’d rarely heard Zisheng mention her.

“Beautiful!” Zisheng said, then muttered, “Just… cold. She’s strict with me and Zixi.”

Mo Hua nodded thoughtfully.

Given their looks and talent, their mother must indeed be beautiful. And being born into a noble clan, strict expectations were normal…

But why the coldness?

Normally, parents with children like these would be bursting with pride and affection. Why so distant?

He couldn’t understand.

“What about your father?” he asked.

That question hit a nerve. Zisheng’s face darkened. “I don’t have a father!”

Mo Hua nodded calmly. “Then you don’t have one.”

Zisheng blinked. “How can someone not have a father?”

“Didn’t you just say so yourself?”

“That was anger talking!”

“Then what’s the truth?” Mo Hua pressed.

Zisheng sighed. “I don’t know who my father is. My mother won’t say, and the clan treats it like a taboo.”

“My guess—either he’s dead, or his identity can’t see the light of day.”

Mo Hua sighed. “Matters of noble clans really are complicated…”

Zisheng sighed too, then said enviously, “You’re the lucky one.”

Mo Hua was puzzled. “How so?”

Zisheng just shook his head. “Nothing.”

Zixi stayed silent, but her autumn-water eyes shimmered with envy.

After that, they put such thoughts aside. The three finished their meal, practiced a bit, then went their separate ways.

Life in Tōngxiān City flowed on peacefully—

but in the Heavenly Pivot Pavilion of the Dao Court, ripples were stirring.

In the grand chamber, an old man—the Pavilion’s Grand Elder—held a jade slip, frowning so deeply that his brow formed the character “川.”

The jade slip recorded the aftermath of the Dao-Sin incident in Tōngxiān City:

“North of Lizhou, within the Black Mountain Prefecture, Tōngxiān City.

A Dao-Sin emerged, taking the form of a great demon—name: Feng Xi.

Appendix: Local cultivators established a Five-Element Demon-Slaying Grand Formation (note: Grade-One, Eleven Runes).

The formation later collapsed, triggering Heavenly Tribulation Lightning.

Feng Xi—perished.”

Each line made sense on its own, yet strung together, none of it did.

How could they build a Five-Element Demon-Slaying Formation?

Such a grand array wasn’t something one could just throw together!

Who built it? Who was the chief array master?

And “formation collapse”…

Who even knows how to collapse a formation? And not a small one—but an entire Grand Formation?!

And then—“Heavenly Tribulation Lightning”?

Who triggered it? And why?

“Feng Xi perished”—ironically, the least believable part now seemed the most reasonable.

Under the Heavenly Dao’s restrictions, slaying a Dao-Sin was near impossible. Even where it happened, it was in major provinces ruled by great clans.

For a tiny city like Tōngxiān to pull it off?

Unthinkable.

But compared to “building a grand formation,” “collapsing it,” and “summoning Heavenly Tribulation”—Feng Xi’s death suddenly seemed the least outrageous part.

The jade slip was concise, perhaps too much so.

The Grand Elder had once told his scribes to keep reports brief and avoid useless words.

Now, though, he found it too brief—so concise it was nearly incomprehensible.

He sighed.

“All this… for one Feng Xi demon?”

Just reading it made his palms sweat.

Especially the Tribulation Lightning—even at his cultivation, the mere thought of it brought dread. To draw such lightning… that was playing with fire far too large.

He shook his head and frowned in thought. There could be only one explanation—

that Zhuang brat had intervened.

Who else could both build and collapse such a formation?

But did he survive the tribulation? Or was the one struck down… merely one of his puppets?

The Elder’s suspicion deepened.

Since when was that Zhuang fellow so helpful?

It was just a minor city.

In the cultivation world, there were millions of such towns—why care about this one?

Unless… there was something else hidden within it.

He read on, and at the bottom of the jade slip found a final note:

“Feng Xi’s flesh and blood—Dao Heart tainted by demonic seed. Suspected involvement of the Strange Daoist.”

The Grand Elder drew in a sharp breath. His gaze hardened as he murmured: “This is… troublesome.”

(End of Chapter)