Chapter 374: Tōngxiān Festival (End of Volume)

Mo Hua successfully passed the grading assessment and officially became a First-Rank Formation Master.

When the news reached Tōngxiān City, everyone was overjoyed.

This was, to date, the first—and only—First-Rank Formation Master to have ever come from a rogue cultivator background in Tōngxiān City.

Elder Yu decided to hold a celebration.

Not only to celebrate Mo Hua becoming a First-Rank Formation Master, but also to commemorate how everyone in Tōngxiān City had joined forces to slay the great demon Feng Xi.

Moreover, Elder Yu had another intention—to hold a farewell banquet for Mo Hua.

Mo Hua was about to depart on his journey and leave Tōngxiān City.

And in the battle to slay the great demon and safeguard the peace of the city, his contribution had been nothing short of monumental.

Having no better way to express his gratitude, Elder Yu decided to dedicate an entire citywide festival as Mo Hua’s send-off.

After careful discussion with Manager Zhou, they agreed to designate the first day of the eleventh month as the Tōngxiān Festival.

When Mo Hua returned from Cangyun Sect, he found the city decorated with lanterns and streamers—festive atmosphere brimming everywhere.

Once he learned the reason, he couldn’t help but feel delighted.

After all, festivals were always lively affairs.

Though Qingshan City was larger, it had never been as bustling or as joyful as Tōngxiān City.

Still, Mo Hua had one small concern:

“We used up almost all our spirit stones to construct the grand formation… do we still have enough for a festival?”

Elder Yu calmly replied, “We were poorer before, yet we still celebrated, didn’t we?”

Mo Hua blinked, realizing that was quite reasonable.

Elder Yu chuckled, “Festivals must always be celebrated—if you’re rich, you celebrate lavishly; if not, you celebrate simply.”

“Though the grand formation used up most of our stones, the remaining ones are still enough.”

“Besides, the businesses like the Artifact Refinery Guild and Alchemy Hall are still running. With the new mountain road open, travel and trade will flourish. In a few years, Tōngxiān City will only grow wealthier.”

Mo Hua nodded, finally at ease.

Then, with some hope in his voice, he asked, “So… life will keep getting better, right?”

Elder Yu nodded. “Don’t worry. Rogue cultivators aren’t afraid of hardship. As long as they’re not oppressed, their lives will always get better.”

As long as they’re not oppressed…

Mo Hua’s heart stirred with complex emotions.

The Way of Man—taking from the weak to serve the strong.

In this world, there were still countless cultivators suffering under oppression and exploitation. What about the future of Tōngxiān City…?

Seeing Mo Hua deep in thought, his brows furrowed, Elder Yu gently patted his shoulder with a smile.

“No need to overthink. Just cultivate diligently, keep your Dao heart firm, and do what’s within your power.”

Mo Hua’s eyes brightened. He nodded firmly.

“Alright!”

Then came the joyous festival.

He invited Zisheng and Zixi to join in the fun.

Mister Zhuang had agreed to take them as disciples, and Aunt Xue—having completed her mission—gave the siblings a holiday.

Before long, they too would be leaving Tōngxiān City, unsure if they would ever return.

So Aunt Xue didn’t restrain them—she wanted them to play freely, to leave without regrets.

Bai Zisheng was overjoyed, while Bai Zixi’s eyes sparkled like stars.

On the day of the Tōngxiān Festival, Mo Hua, acting as the “host,” took the siblings around the city all day.

The streets were bustling during the day and dazzlingly lit at night.

Mo Hua led the way, with Zisheng and Zixi following close behind.

Zisheng, curious about everything, kept asking:

“Mo Hua, what’s that?”

“Mo Hua, is that tasty?”

“Mo Hua, that bamboo dragonfly actually flies!?”

…

As the youngest of the group, Mo Hua patiently answered all his questions.

Zixi was quieter; whenever she saw an unfamiliar pastry, she would simply stop and stare at it silently.

Mo Hua understood, so he’d buy a few pieces, dividing them between the three as they walked and ate together.

Though he “bought” them, he never actually paid any spirit stones.

Even if he tried, no one would accept them.

Almost every cultivator on the street knew Mo Hua—the young formation master who built the grand array, slew the great demon, and was now recognized by the Dao Court as a First-Rank Formation Master.

Many stall owners even chose a few of their best goods to gift him directly.

If he refused, they’d even get offended.

So the three of them strolled through the market, arms full of gifts, but without spending a single spirit stone.

Zisheng was amazed and whispered, “Mo Hua, if I didn’t know you, I’d think this whole street belongs to you…”

Mo Hua couldn’t help but laugh wryly.

The daytime streets were filled with crowds and chatter.

When night fell and lanterns were hung, thousands of lights intertwined and stretched far into the distance, transforming Tōngxiān City into a sea of brilliance.

Nighttime brought even more entertainment.

One of the highlights was the city’s traditional “Demon-Fighting Play.”

Since they were celebrating the slaying of Feng Xi, the “demon beast” in the play took the form of a gigantic pig demon—looking dopey and slow.

The “pig demon” was, of course, played by demon hunters.

Because of its large size, several hunters played the part together—including Da Hu, Da Ping, Da Zhu, and even Yu Chengyi and Yu Chengwu joined in the fun.

After the play came the “Pig-Slaying Feast.”

Though Feng Xi had long been obliterated by Mo Hua’s grand formation, the feast used meat from other herbivorous pig demons.

Demon hunters had hunted many such beasts, and the dishes were specially prepared by the Fortune Banquet Pavilion for the festival.

To celebrate slaying a pig demon—naturally, everyone ate pork.

Every cultivator in the city enjoyed a portion.

From then on, this became a citywide custom:

Each year on the first of the eleventh month, during the Tōngxiān Festival, the cultivators of the city would eat pork to commemorate the slaying of Feng Xi.

After the feast came fireworks.

This time, the Fireworks Formation was drawn by Mo Hua himself.

He had improved on the original design, incorporating insights gained from the Five-Element Demon-Slaying Grand Formation—using the principles of mutual generation and restraint among the Five Elements, along with the art of Divine-Sense Derivation.

The result: richer colors, clearer patterns, and lower spirit stone consumption.

Before the fireworks began, Mo Hua brought Zisheng and Zixi up to a rooftop.

“This is Elder Yu’s house—the view is perfect for fireworks.”

Zisheng blinked and whispered, “You’re climbing Elder Yu’s roof? Won’t he get mad?”

“He won’t,” Mo Hua smiled. “I already told him beforehand.”

At worst, a few tiles might break—not a big deal.

Zisheng nodded in relief.

So the three fellow disciples—one senior brother, one senior sister, and one junior brother—sat side by side on the roof, their legs swinging as they waited for the fireworks to start.

Mo Hua was just as eager; though he had drawn the formation himself, he’d never actually seen it in action.

On Elder Yu’s rooftop, the three sat together—

Mo Hua and Zisheng each holding a grilled pork skewer, while Zixi held a small pastry box filled with soft white rabbit-shaped cakes.

All three waited in anticipation.

Soon, a clear whistle pierced the night as firelight streaked across the sky.

Then, multicolored formation lights burst forth, gathering high above before blooming into radiant explosions—five-colored fireworks cascading outward, layer after layer, weaving a magnificent tapestry of brilliance that filled the heavens.

It was like the splendor of the grand formation when it had once blazed across the sky—only this time, there was no killing intent, only beauty and peace.

The three of them gazed upward together.

The resplendent, five-hued fireworks reflected in their clear eyes, etching themselves forever into their memories.

Every cultivator in Tōngxiān City lifted their heads in awe, dazed by the breathtaking display.

Formation masters, especially, were both impressed and speechless: “It’s just fireworks… did he really need to use such a complex formation?”

…

The Tōngxiān Festival ended amid joy and laughter.

After the festival, it was time for Mister Zhuang to leave.

Early one morning, outside the city gates, Mo Hua bid farewell to his parents.

Elder Yu, Elder Feng, Master Chen, Manager Zhou, Zhang Lan, Big Tiger, Da Zhu, Da Ping—all were there to see him off.

A dense crowd had gathered outside the city.

Everyone looked at Mo Hua with reluctant hearts.

“Always respect your teacher and follow Mister Zhuang’s guidance,” Liu Ruhua reminded him gently. “And take good care of yourself…”

Mo Hua nodded solemnly, eyes stinging slightly.

Mo Shan said nothing—he only patted Mo Hua’s head, his expression soft and calm.

Everyone came forward one by one, offering parting words and blessings.

After a while, the Bai family’s carriage arrived.

Mo Hua climbed aboard, then poked his head out the window to wave goodbye—to his parents, his elders, his friends, his companions—and to his birthplace, the home where he had grown up.

Then the carriage began moving, carrying Mo Hua farther and farther away.

Liu Ruhua stood motionless, eyes following her son’s silhouette until it vanished at the end of the road, disappeared among the mountains, and was finally swallowed by the drifting clouds.

Only then did she silently shed tears of farewell.

…

Half a year later, beneath the Black Mountain—

A massive Demon-Suppressing Stele was erected.

Supervised personally by Old Master An, it was made from the finest stone, built to withstand wind and rain for generations.

On it were carved the names of the cultivators who had made great contributions in the battle to slay the demon Feng Xi.

That victory had been Tōngxiān City’s greatest achievement in centuries—perhaps even in nearly a thousand years.

Accordingly, this was also the largest Demon-Suppressing Stele in nearly a millennium.

As long as Tōngxiān City stood, the stele would stand—and the names upon it would endure.

At the top of the stele, in bold, vigorous strokes, was carved the name of Old Master An.

Even from afar, the characters stood out with commanding strength.

And above Old Master An’s name—engraved in even more prominent characters—

was a single name: “Mo Hua.”

…

(End of Volume One: The Black Mountain Arc)

The first volume is complete!

(End of this Chapter & Volume)