Chapter 440: Instructor Yan
“Instructor Yan… is drawing formations for the Walking Corpse Stronghold?”
Mo Hua’s small face filled with worry.
Could it be that Instructor Yan has turned evil…?
Wanting to be sure, he released his Divine-Sense, trying to see if anyone in the Walking Corpse Stronghold was drawing formations.
As his vast Divine-Sense spread out, the contours of the Walking Corpse Stronghold dissolved.
Amid all the void, pale blue, pale white, and black-gray energies twisted and intertwined.
This was the true form of spiritual energy beneath the world’s surface appearance.
Or perhaps it was just a deeper layer of appearance.
Mo Hua held his breath and focused, searching room by room, checking each cultivator.
After a cup of tea’s time, he finally found something.
In a secluded, narrow room, a lone cultivator sat. With Qi-Refining at the ninth level, he was seated at a desk, concentrating on drawing formations.
From the tip of his brush, neat formation lines emerged, gradually forming a visible formation.
It seemed to be a Spirit-Gathering Formation.
When Mo Hua observed him with Divine-Sense,
the cultivator seemed to sense something. His brush paused; he looked around and then appeared confused.
“Is someone here?”
“No, this is the Walking Corpse Stronghold. There shouldn’t be any outsiders…”
“But…”
He frowned tightly.
He had indeed sensed a trace of energy a moment ago.
This trace was very familiar, as if it belonged to an old acquaintance, yet when he tried to pinpoint it, it vanished without a trace.
“Must be my imagination…”
He shook his head, seemed to think of something, sighed slightly, and continued drawing the formation.
Mo Hua opened his eyes.
It was Instructor Yan’s aura!
He pondered briefly, then hid his form, using body techniques to silently jump onto a rooftop. Lying flat, he peeked over, looking into the room.
The small room had a simple layout: a bed, a desk, a chair.
The rest was filled with formation manuals, diagrams, ink, brushes, and other formation-related materials.
Inside, someone was drawing a formation, dressed simply, sitting straight.
His expression was serious, slightly tired, but his gaze was firm.
It was the Instructor Yan Mo Hua remembered!
Mo Hua felt a surge of emotion.
Ever since Instructor Yan left Tōngxiān City, Mo Hua hadn’t seen him.
Instructor Yan had enlightened him in formations, and Mo Hua occasionally wondered about him.
Was Instructor Yan doing well? Was his Dao-path smooth? Had his formations advanced? Had he found a Dao companion…?
Later, in Nanyue City, Mo Hua heard that Instructor Yan went missing in the mines, which worried him.
Seeing him safe now, Mo Hua exhaled in relief.
He thought for a moment, deciding not to meet Instructor Yan immediately, but to observe what he was doing first.
Time changes people.
Mo Hua wasn’t sure if Instructor Yan was still the same as before.
Was he helping the Walking Corpse Stronghold with anything evil?
Mo Hua calmed himself, his small face serious, secretly observing.
Instructor Yan continued drawing, focused and meticulous, completely unaware that his former student was “spying.”
After finishing the formation, he reviewed manuals, checked diagrams, and made notes.
Mo Hua nodded slightly. This was how Instructor Yan had taught him:
To learn formations, one must be diligent.
Observe, study, contemplate, and memorize.
Soon, he was interrupted.
A corpse cultivator in gray clothes, face pale as death, knocked on Instructor Yan’s door.
“Instructor Yan.”
Instructor Yan frowned, displeased—he didn’t like being disturbed while studying formations. Still, he rose, opened the door, and said calmly:
“What is it?”
The corpse cultivator said, “The formation on the west side of the stronghold is damaged…”
Mo Hua knew this—because he had deliberately damaged it!
Instructor Yan frowned. “Damaged?”
The corpse cultivator cupped his hands: “Please come and take a look, Instructor.”
Though he said “please,” his expression was cold, leaving no room for refusal.
Instructor Yan nodded: “Wait a moment.”
He went back inside, grabbed a few brushes, some ink, and a formation diagram, placing them in his storage ring, then said:
“Let’s go.”
The corpse cultivator led him out.
Before leaving, Instructor Yan locked the door and activated the room’s formation.
He didn’t want anyone entering.
But no formation could stop Mo Hua.
After Instructor Yan left, Mo Hua quietly dispelled the rooftop formation, carefully slipped inside, and glanced around.
He didn’t touch anything, only scanned the formation energy and types of patterns to judge what formations Instructor Yan was drawing.
Most were Five-Element Formations.
Mo Hua was very familiar with these, so he recognized them at a glance.
They were proper and legitimate formations, not evil ones.
There were also a few rare formations, but none were difficult.
Some diagrams lay on the desk, showing wear from frequent study.
These were the standard formations like Molten Fire Formation and Earth-Stone Formation, used regularly for First-Rank Formation Master evaluations.
It seemed Instructor Yan was still striving to become a First-Rank Formation Master.
After observing a few formations, Mo Hua nodded, preliminarily judging that Instructor Yan had already reached First-Rank level.
Unfortunately, his range of study wasn’t broad enough.
If the evaluation required obscure or tricky formations, passing would be difficult.
It would depend on luck or opportunity.
Aside from that, there were no Absolute Formations and no evil formations.
Mo Hua felt both disappointed and relieved.
Disappointed because there was no clue about Absolute Formations.
Relieved because Instructor Yan hadn’t mastered Absolute Formations, nor drawn evil formations for the Walking Corpse Stronghold to help them refine or control corpses.
Mo Hua guessed that Instructor Yan might have been coerced.
As a formation master, his life was spared, yet his status meant he could be forced by corpse cultivators to draw formations for the stronghold’s construction.
After all, formation masters are rare in the Daoist world.
Instructor Yan, almost at First-Rank level, would be even more sought after.
But this was only Mo Hua’s guess—confirmation would require asking him.
Mo Hua found a stool, sat in a corner, hiding, quietly waiting for Instructor Yan to return.
Half an hour later, Instructor Yan came back.
The corpse cultivator escorted him to the door, watching him enter before leaving.
Instructor Yan sighed and returned to the desk, continuing to study the formation manuals.
After a while, he muttered:
“How could the formation be damaged?”
Suddenly, his expression stiffened.
Formations cannot be damaged for no reason.
Then he was startled, pupils contracting.
It seemed someone had been in his room!
He immediately stood and swept his Divine-Sense, but found nothing.
The desk, chair, and diagrams hadn’t been touched, yet he had a strong intuition that someone had entered and possibly looked at something.
Who?!
And for what?!
Instructor Yan’s brows knitted, his expression serious.
At that moment, a small hand gently tapped his shoulder.
Instructor Yan felt a chill, his scalp tingling.
Someone was in the room?
And this person was right behind him?!
Just then, a clear, crisp voice asked:
“Instructor Yan, why are you stealing?”
The voice was a child’s, clear and melodious.
And very, very familiar…
Instructor Yan spun around, mouth agape, and after a long pause, said:
“Mo… Mo Hua?!”
Mo Hua smiled brightly. “Instructor Yan, long time no see.”
Instructor Yan was completely stunned.
He blinked and looked at Mo Hua.
Mo Hua was still as he remembered—delicate and cute, with clear features—but now a few years older, slightly taller.
His eyes shone brightly, yet held a depth and inner luster, like a polished jade.
Instructor Yan blinked again, then relaxed:
“So it wasn’t a dream…”
Old age makes people fond of memories.
He must have been recalling Tōngxiān City and the child Mo Hua…
Instructor Yan’s expression softened, a hint of emotion in his eyes.
Mo Hua felt slightly speechless, then said with a bit of helplessness:
“Instructor Yan, it’s me. I came looking for you.”
Instructor Yan was slightly startled.
If it were a dream…
The voice was far too clear.
Mo Hua’s expression too vivid.
He focused and seemed to see Mo Hua’s flawless face.
Instructor Yan looked up, noticing the dim, cold mountain air, yet the sun hung high in the sky.
It was broad daylight—how could this be a dream?
Instructor Yan paused, then trembling slightly, reached out and gently held Mo Hua’s shoulders, incredulous:
“Truly… truly Mo Hua?”
Instructor Yan’s voice trembled, the corners of his eyes slightly moist.
He hadn’t expected that in his life, he could see this student Mo Hua again…
Mo Hua was also moved, nodding:
“It’s me!”
Instructor Yan’s expression suddenly turned serious, worried:
“But how… how did you come here?”
“I came to find you.”
Instructor Yan was stunned. “Find me?”
Mo Hua said: “Not just you, also Zhang Quan, the walking corpses, and… a formation.”
Instructor Yan listened, puzzled, then realized something, eyes widening:
“You’re looking for… the Spirit-Pivot Formation?”
Mo Hua nodded, confirming his suspicion.
The formation on the walking corpses was indeed the Spirit-Pivot Formation, a treasured legacy of the Little Lingyin Sect, inherited from the Great Lingyin Sect over a thousand years ago:
The Spirit-Pivot Formation!