Chapter 378: The Small Town

Mo Hua returned to his room and continued practicing the Spirit-Reversal Formation.

As expected, he could feel that his Divine-Sense growth had slowed—it was no longer as rapid as before.

“Looks like I’ll have to find a more difficult formation to study.”

He thought silently to himself.

After practicing a while longer and exhausting his Divine-Sense, Mo Hua rested for a moment, then opened his Storage Bag.

He didn’t know what lay ahead in their journey, so he wanted to take inventory of what he had.

First—spirit stones.

He carried over a thousand on him, and several thousand more were stored in the carriage, sealed by a formation under Mister Zhuang’s care.

Those stones were reserved for his Foundation Establishment—some earned by himself, some saved by his parents, and some gifted by Elder Yu.

They should be enough until he reached Foundation Establishment.

Next was his first-grade spirit weapon, the Thousand-Jin Rod.

He had it reforged by Master Chen to make it sturdier and reinforced it himself with a Thousand-Jin Auxiliary Formation. It was now even handier for bashing enemies over the head.

Around Mo Hua’s neck hung a Jade Pendant—a gift from Elder Feng.

It emitted a gentle warmth that soothed and calmed the mind.

Though Elder Feng had once said, “The notion of merit is but an illusion,” this jade pendant seemed truly to carry the accumulated virtue of all his years healing and saving lives, radiating a soft and tranquil glow.

Every time Mo Hua looked at it, he could feel a quiet benevolence within.

Besides the jade pendant, another item hung around his neck—a Demon-Hunting Token.

This was the token Elder Yu had given him. Every demon hunter had one.

But Mo Hua’s seemed… a little different.

For most demon hunters, each time they slew a demon beast, a thin red bloodline would appear upon their token.

When Mo Hua used a grand formation to slay the Fengxi, a mark appeared on his token as well—

—but his was half a finger thick, and golden, not red.

When he asked Elder Yu, even the old man looked puzzled. He had never seen such a thing, nor was there any record of it in the demon hunters’ archives.

A pale golden blood mark…

Mo Hua couldn’t make sense of it, so he decided to leave it be.

Whether the mark was red or gold didn’t seem to make any difference—and for now, it brought no benefit either. He could investigate it later.

Next was his bronze Dao Court Division waist token.

According to Chief Zhou, he had filed a report to the higher authorities, granting a large number of merit points to be inscribed into that token.

The slaying of the Fengxi in Tōngxiān City had earned the local Dao Court Division immense credit.

In his later years of service, Chief Zhou had unexpectedly achieved a great accomplishment and could hardly stop smiling.

That merit, of course, was largely thanks to Mo Hua.

But since Mo Hua’s identity was somewhat unusual—a thirteen-year-old first-grade Array Master—no one would have believed it if Zhou had reported it truthfully.

So instead, Zhou kept quiet and secretly allocated Mo Hua a generous share of the reward.

Those rewards were stored within the bronze token as accumulated merit.

In the future, if Mo Hua needed anything, he could use that merit to exchange for spirit stones or spiritual materials—an invaluable emergency resource.

He didn’t yet know exactly how much merit was stored there or what it could buy, but it shouldn’t be a small amount.

He patted the token lightly, feeling much more secure.

Then came the most important item—his First-Grade Array Master’s Ring.

White jade inlaid with gold, elegant yet ancient—it was called the Heavenly Pivot Ring, crafted by the Heavenly Pivot Pavilion of the Dao Court and granted to officially ranked array masters.

On its band were engraved nine star marks, each with three fine star lines, symbolizing the nine grades of array mastery, each divided into three tiers.

Mo Hua’s Heavenly Pivot Ring had only one star lit, signifying that he was recognized by the Pavilion as a first-grade Array Master.

The ring was not only a symbol of status but also a miniature storage ring, capable of holding precious or confidential items.

Mo Hua kept inside it the jade slip of the Celestial Evolution Art and several rare formation diagrams.

Because his fingers were small, the ring only fit his thumb—like a thumb guard.

Worried it might slip off, he threaded a cord through it and hung it around his neck.

Now, three items dangled from his neck—but they were all light, and he barely felt their weight.

After finishing his inventory, Mo Hua meditated briefly, then returned to drawing formation patterns.

Dinner that night was at the inn. They ordered a few simple dishes—nothing particularly tasty, and certainly inferior to Mo Hua’s cooking.

After supper, the group rested for the night. The next morning, they prepared to depart again.

Before leaving, Mo Hua affectionately wrapped his arms around Big White’s neck, patting its back.

“We’ll be relying on you again.”

Big White snorted softly and rubbed its head against Mo Hua’s cheek.

Mo Hua laughed happily.

The morning sun spilled across the land in golden waves.

Their small group set out once more, leaving the city gates and following the long road ahead.

After traveling for a while, they entered a mountain pass—the path wound between twin peaks, dense with foliage. Few people passed by; only the rhythmic sound of hooves echoed through the quiet valley.

By midday, after half a day’s travel, they came upon a small town.

Mo Hua looked up. From a distance, he could see the signboard:

Qianjia Town.

The town came into view—bustling enough, yet clearly filled with loose cultivators. Their robes were plain and dirt-stained.

Beyond the town stretched vast spiritual farmlands, where many cultivators were bent over, working diligently.

Mo Hua remembered his father, Mo Shan, once explaining that among cultivation professions, there were Spirit Plant Masters who cultivated spiritual crops or medicinal herbs for a living.

Those who focused solely on farming were called Spirit Farmers.

The cultivators tilling those fields must be the “Spirit Farmers” his father had spoken of.

Old Kui stopped the carriage.

Mister Zhuang lifted the curtain, glanced toward the town, and nodded.

“We’ll be staying here for a while.”

Mo Hua and the Bai siblings exchanged looks, unsure why they would stop here.

Then Mo Hua recalled something Mister Zhuang had once told him. His eyes brightened.

“Master… is there an Absolute Formation here?”

Mister Zhuang gave a faint nod.

Mo Hua studied the small town again.

The houses were low and worn, many showing signs of age and disrepair—life here was clearly not easy for most cultivators.

Only one mansion in the distance looked lavish—it must belong to the wealthiest family in town.

Just like the other towns they’d passed through: where there is poverty, there is wealth; where there is wealth, poverty follows.

Most of the buildings had simple formation marks—just a few basic runes.

Even that grand mansion’s formations were so crude that Mo Hua could see through them at a glance.

Such a humble place… how could there possibly be an Absolute Formation here?

Unable to figure it out, Mo Hua asked,

“Master, how did you know there’s an Absolute Formation here?”

Mister Zhuang replied with an air of mystery,

“I saw it.”

Mo Hua frowned slightly.

“Saw it? How?”

He was deeply curious.

Mister Zhuang looked at him and smiled gently.

“Why don’t you guess?”

Mo Hua furrowed his brows.

If his teacher wanted him to guess rather than speculate blindly, it meant that he actually knew the answer—he just hadn’t realized it yet.

He turned his gaze back toward the distant town.

There were no visible formation traces, meaning Mister Zhuang hadn’t literally seen any array patterns.

And since this was a sudden stop along their route, it meant Mister Zhuang hadn’t known about this beforehand.

So—he must have sensed something.

Or rather… perceived something through Divine-Sense?

Mo Hua extended his Divine-Sense.

The world turned to faint white mist, and streaks of colorful spiritual energy appeared before his inner sight.

After sensing for a moment, his eyes lit up slightly.

“Is it through Divine-Sense derivation?”

If one couldn’t see formation patterns, then it meant they were inferring them—deriving the runic traces from the flow of spiritual energy, estimating the structure’s intensity, and thus determining that a lost Absolute Formation might be buried here.

Mo Hua faintly sensed subtle spiritual fluctuations from deep within the town—faint and distant, hard to calculate precisely, but enough for an intuitive guess.

Mister Zhuang nodded approvingly.

“That’s right.”

He patiently explained,

“Absolute Formations differ from ordinary ones. They involve far subtler, more essential, and more advanced manipulation of spiritual energy.”

“The Spirit-Reversal Formation inverts spiritual flow; a Grand Formation gathers it. Other Absolute Formations each possess some unique peculiarity.”

“The world changes endlessly—oceans turn to fields, fields to ruins. Many formations are buried underground, sealed within ancient relics, or hidden in some obscure corner of a nameless town—silently operating, unnoticed by all.”

“You can’t find them just by looking—the eyes deceive. Divine-Sense does not. Appearances deceive. The essence of spiritual energy does not.”

“Thus, you must perceive through Divine-Sense, derive within your Sea of Consciousness, and through your understanding of formation principles and the nature of spiritual flow—discern whether a lost formation lies hidden in a place.”

Mo Hua suddenly understood, nodding repeatedly.

Perceive through Divine-Sense, derive through energy, infer the runes, and uncover the Absolute Formation…

With just a few words, Mister Zhuang had illuminated the path ahead.

Meanwhile, Bai Zisheng and Bai Zixi exchanged blank stares.

They had absolutely no idea what Mo Hua and Mister Zhuang were talking about.

(End of Chapter)