Chapter 429: Corpse-Blood Pill

Situ Fang, accompanied by the Dao Court Division officers, charged into the back courtyard of the Hundred Flowers Pavilion.

Moments later, spiritual energy surged everywhere, blending the sounds of battle, exclamations, shouting, and the crashing of structures into one chaotic symphony.

Mo Hua, curious, thought for a moment and then told Qinglan:

“Find a place to hide—don’t come out under any circumstances.”

Qinglan, a bit nervous, still nodded.

Then the three of them used their movement techniques to reach the second floor and peered down into the back courtyard through a window.

The Hundred Flowers Pavilion had a front and back building with a courtyard in between.

The front building served as the main hall for banquets and entertainment, where female cultivators sang and danced, while the back building contained private rooms, running the business of a pleasure house.

In the middle of the back building was a courtyard with mountains, water, and flowers blooming in abundance.

The courtyard was spacious and picturesque.

Behind it stood the back building, with three sides enclosed by tall structures.

The corridors of the tall buildings were connected, the private rooms exquisite, with large red lanterns and pink drapes hanging between the corridors, the scent of makeup strong in the air.

Various formations were set up along the corridors: reinforced ones, soundproof ones, visibility-revealing arrays, and even lighting formations.

The pale pink light illuminated the entire back courtyard and its lofts, making it alluring and decadent.

Mo Hua felt somewhat displeased.

Miners endured hardship and life-or-death danger in the mines, yet the formations there were extremely rudimentary.

A place like the Hundred Flowers Pavilion, devoted to pleasure, had such complete formations.

They even used formations to enhance the atmosphere and set the mood.

It was truly excessive.

Suddenly, spiritual energy surged violently; bricks shattered, and wood splintered.

Mo Hua followed the sound.

At the distant second-floor room, the doors and windows had been completely smashed, and the formations on both sides destroyed.

On the corridor, two Foundation Establishment cultivators were fighting.

One wore dark robes, the other gray.

The dark-robed cultivator was Situ Fang’s Foundation Establishment elder, named Situ Jin.

The gray-robed, masked cultivator, exuding a dark aura, was likely the person behind the mine’s corpse-buying operation that Mo Hua had been searching for.

Situ Fang and the Dao Court Division officers from Nanyue City guarded the perimeter to prevent the gray-robed cultivator from escaping.

They were all Qi-Refining cultivators, unable to match a Foundation Establishment in strength, but forming an array and trading a few blows could delay him.

The Dao Court Division cultivators stood ready.

Meanwhile, Situ Jin and the gray-robed man clashed repeatedly along the corridor.

Mo Hua watched for a while, frowning.

Bai Zisheng whispered:

“This gray-robed cultivator seems pretty weak…”

Mo Hua nodded:

“Yeah… really weak.”

Though his aura was sinister and spiritual energy subtle, his cultivation was low—even among early Foundation Establishment cultivators, he was at the bottom.

Of all the Foundation Establishment cultivators Mo Hua had seen, this one was the weakest.

Even the elderly Zhou Zhangsi and Master An in Tongxian City, who weren’t strong in Dao techniques, were stronger than him.

This gray-robed cultivator cultivated alone, with weak vitality and ordinary martial skills.

He seemed to have learned one or two spells as well.

They appeared to be Earth Poison Techniques, but clearly he wasn’t following the path of spirit cultivation. The spells worked against Qi-Refining cultivators, but against peers, they were inadequate.

From top to bottom, the gray-robed cultivator exuded mediocrity.

Mo Hua frowned further.

How could someone be so weak?

Even he was losing patience watching.

On the battlefield, Situ Jin pressed the gray-robed cultivator relentlessly with his palm power like wind.

The gray-robed cultivator barely managed to defend.

He wanted to escape, but officers blocked him; every time he tried, he was delayed and then tangled again by Situ Jin.

After dozens of exchanges, the gray-robed cultivator, seeing defeat imminent, leaped from the building into the garden. His body glimmered gray, and he vanished.

Situ Jin landed, surveying the area with a frown.

Mo Hua was also surprised and asked:

“What kind of technique was that?”

Bai Zisheng hesitated:

“That… was a teleportation technique?”

Bai Zixi nodded:

“It’s an Earth-attribute technique from the Five Elements teleportation arts.”

“Teleportation?” Mo Hua blinked.

Bai Zixi explained:

“Teleportation is actually a type of movement technique, mainly used to escape. When cast, spiritual energy covers the body, blending with the Five Elements, concealing one’s aura to flee alive.”

The gray-robed cultivator used Earth teleportation last to avoid revealing his full abilities.

Once someone understood this teleportation technique, it would be much easier to counter.

Mo Hua understood and praised sincerely:

“Little Senior Sister, you know so much!”

“It’s simple,” Bai Zixi said lightly, a subtle pride in her eyes.

Bai Zisheng couldn’t help saying:

“Mo Hua, you’re good at flattery.”

Mo Hua frowned:

“I’m just speaking the truth. How is that flattery? If I don’t flatter you, who else would I flatter? You just don’t know, that’s all.”

Bai Zisheng had no retort.

In cultivation knowledge, he was indeed inferior to his sister Zixi.

Not just in cultivation—actually, in many things, he was inferior…

He stopped arguing with Mo Hua and frowned:

“If he used teleportation, is he going to escape?”

Mo Hua smiled:

“He can’t get away.”

The gray-robed cultivator’s Divine-Sense was only ten marks.

Mo Hua’s Divine-Sense was twelve!

He focused, eyes closed, projecting his Divine-Sense outward to its limit.

In the pale Divine-Sense vision, he searched for the gray-robed cultivator.

Moments later, Mo Hua opened his eyes, channeling energy into his fingertips to form a fireball.

With a flick of his technique, the fireball flew into the garden, exploding on a patch of grass, reducing plants to ash.

Amid the scorched ground, a blackened face appeared.

The gray-robed cultivator was bewildered.

Where did this fireball come from, and how did it hit him?

The fireball caught Situ Jin’s attention too, revealing the gray-robed cultivator’s location.

Situ Jin, frustrated from searching in vain, surged with energy and struck a palm toward the gray-robed cultivator.

Unable to evade, the gray-robed cultivator was hit, revealing his true form—tattered clothes, face blackened.

Mo Hua’s fireball, though powerful, wasn’t significantly harmful to a Foundation Establishment, only making him look disheveled.

The gray-robed cultivator cursed, retreated, and vanished into the ground.

Situ Jin frowned, unable to find him.

At that moment, another fireball shot through the air, hitting a flower in the garden and forcing the gray-robed cultivator to appear.

Situ Jin froze, looking at Mo Hua in disbelief.

This young cultivator could see through Earth teleportation?

He, a Foundation Establishment cultivator, couldn’t detect this gray-robed man’s trail.

How did he figure it out?

But now wasn’t the time to marvel.

Situ Jin leapt forward, attacking the gray-robed cultivator.

The gray-robed cultivator was forced to reveal himself, looked up, and saw Mo Hua above.

He was both angry and startled:

“Damn brat, ruining my plan! I’ll kill you…”

He didn’t finish, interrupted by Situ Jin’s strike:

“Thief, prepare to die!”

The gray-robed cultivator forced a palm to meet it, bleeding, then quickly swallowed a pill to stabilize himself, and used teleportation again to vanish.

But repeatedly, he was hit by fireballs.

Situ Jin, smarter now, stopped searching himself—where Mo Hua aimed the fireball, he struck.

The gray-robed cultivator, like a mole, popped up only to be immediately hit, growing increasingly frustrated.

He was near boiling with rage.

This little brat—how did he see through my technique?

After several more fireballs, he realized—it was Divine-Sense!

This brat locked him with Divine-Sense?!

A Qi-Refining cultivator, being targeted by a Foundation Establishment boy’s Divine-Sense?

Before he could fully process, another fireball struck him.

Pain surged across his face, frustration burning.

This brat’s aim keeps improving…

At this rate, I’ll die here.

At the same time, Situ Jin struck again, hitting the gray-robed cultivator’s left shoulder, tearing his clothes and pulling off his mask.

Beneath was a cold, pale face, devoid of blood.

The gray-robed cultivator, enraged, hoarsely shouted:

“You’re asking for death!”

He then took out an oddly shaped bronze vial marked with blood, and swallowed the pill inside.

“Not good!”

Situ Jin sensed danger the moment he drew the vial and struck with a palm.

Though he didn’t know the pill’s effect, he couldn’t let him swallow it.

The palm hit the gray-robed cultivator’s chest, tearing flesh with spiritual force and sending him flying—but it didn’t prevent him from swallowing the blood-colored pill.

The gray-robed cultivator lay motionless like a corpse.

The scene fell silent.

Situ Jin’s gaze was grave, cautious.

Moments later, an unexpected change occurred.

The gray-robed cultivator convulsed erratically, limbs twisting, body swelling, veins bulging, until he rose in a grotesque posture.

His skin turned iron-blue, body robust, eyes white, exuding death energy.

Situ Jin inhaled sharply.

The surrounding officers were also terrified.

Then the corpse-like gray-robed cultivator stepped forward, punching Situ Jin’s chest.

Situ Jin exerted all his power, palm surging, striking the punch.

The Foundation Establishment’s spiritual power shattered surrounding vegetation and rocks.

Situ Jin was forced back seven or eight steps, finally half-kneeling, spitting blood.

The gray-robed cultivator advanced, but a fireball suddenly struck his back, staggering him.

Though not powerful, the humiliation was complete.

The gray-robed cultivator slowly turned, dead-white eyes fixed on the second floor.

Mo Hua made a face at him.

The corpse-like gray-robed cultivator was infuriated.

At that instant, he had only one thought—kill this brat at all costs!

He abandoned Situ Jin, striding toward Mo Hua.

Situ Fang panicked, trying to stop him, but was punched away.

Other Qi-Refining officers were no match either.

The gray-robed cultivator reached Mo Hua.

Mo Hua stood on the second floor, looking down.

The gray-robed cultivator’s iron-blue face emitted a strange roar before leaping up to the second floor.

Bai Zisheng’s eyes glinted; he stepped forward, hands forming a grip, a silver spear appearing, striking like a dragon with golden light, aimed at the corpse-like gray-robed cultivator.

The gray-robed cultivator, with iron-blue skin and bulging veins, was nearly impervious; his body alone could clash with Bai Zisheng’s spear.

The spear couldn’t pierce him, nor could Bai Zisheng harm him.

Despite his momentum, he was at a disadvantage.

After all, his talent aside, he was still only Qi-Refining.

Then Bai Zixi’s glassy eyes flashed; a sword light formed on her fingertip, burning with snow-white flames.

Her fair hand released several sword beams, cutting through the gray-robed cultivator’s flesh, the white flames scorching his wounds.

The gray-robed cultivator roared unnaturally in pain.

But that was all.

The golden light-severed flesh slowly healed.

The white flames extinguished, leaving only scorch marks.

The gray-robed cultivator’s expression turned grim again, though he was inwardly shocked.

Who were these two young cultivators?

He had taken the corpse-blood pill, boosting his cultivation, his body like iron, impervious to weapons.

Yet a Qi-Refining cultivator could fight him solo.

And use magic to pierce his flesh?

The gray-robed cultivator’s heart tightened.

He couldn’t prolong the fight; once the pill’s power faded, he’d suffer backlash.

Kill that brat to vent anger, then retreat immediately!

His plan set, he scanned around, but the brat…?

Where was he?

Invisible?

The gray-robed cultivator’s dead-white eyes widened, seeing no one.

His Divine-Sense found nothing…

Rage surged.

That brat…

Had his teleportation exposed, had been ambushed, humiliated, mocked with a face, and now couldn’t even be seen…

How could he kill him unseen?

It was like punching cotton—and he hadn’t even touched the cotton.

Time was running out, pill’s power fading.

The gray-robed cultivator, trembling with frustration, hoarsely roared to the sky:

“Come out!”

“Show yourself!!”

This impotent fury was full of helplessness.