Chapter 478: Coveting

Chapter 479: Coveting

In Nanyue City, in a quiet bamboo chamber.

Mister Zhuang opened his eyes, his face slightly paler, a trace of helplessness in his voice:

“Having a disciple who’s too clever… can be a problem.”

“If one is clever, they think too much, and if they’re not careful, they’ll think of things they shouldn’t…”

Old Kui, holding a piece of wood and carving a little tiger for Mo Hua, paused at this, frowning:

“Got figured out again?”

Mister Zhuang shook his head. “Almost.” He sighed lightly. “Luckily that kid is sharp…”

He knew how to use the essence of the earth to mask his own aura. Otherwise, if that person saw his face, there would have been even more complications.

Old Kui pondered for a moment, then quietly said:

“Mo Hua hasn’t come back for a long time…”

Mister Zhuang’s face paled slightly, but a faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips:

“Ah, you miss him?”

Old Kui ignored him, continuing to carve the little tiger.

Previously, Mo Hua had asked him to carve many little tigers, saying he might need a lot.

Now, he had carved quite a few, but Mo Hua hadn’t touched them.

After a while, Old Kui sighed and said helplessly:

“The pine nuts are all eaten; no one’s roasting them for me.”

Mister Zhuang suggested:

“Why not have Zi Sheng roast them for you? He’s my disciple, and in a way your junior. Doing this should be a duty.”

Old Kui was dismissive.

“Disciples of the Bai family can only handle swords, spears, and other weapons—nothing else.”

“You’re quite particular…” Mister Zhuang shook his head.

Old Kui didn’t reply, only thinking about when Mo Hua would return.

Unable to calculate it himself, he asked Zhuang:

“How much longer?”

Mister Zhuang pinched his fingers, glanced at the distant mines, his eyes moving slightly, and said slowly:

“Soon, I suppose…”

His gaze was deep.

“He’s learned the formation.”

“That thing is almost refined.”

“The corpse aura spreads, and the heavenly secrets grow murky.”

“This time, Nanyue City’s calamity isn’t minor. Let’s see how this kid handles it…”

Old Kui nodded.

Mister Zhuang glanced at the mines outside the city.

Above the mines were the unfortunate miner-cultivators.

They knew nothing, still laboring daily in hardship.

Mister Zhuang sighed.

“Whenever there’s a great calamity in the world, it’s always the lowest-tier cultivators who suffer the most…”

“You’re getting sentimental again.” Old Kui’s voice was wooden.

Mister Zhuang self-mockingly laughed:

“Nothing I can do… getting old.”

Old Kui looked at Zhuang, his eyes showing deep regret and melancholy.

He said nothing, continuing to carve the little tiger.

Blow by blow, his skillful hands sent wood shavings scattering, the lines of the little tiger naturally forming.

The bamboo chamber fell silent.

After a while, Old Kui suddenly said:

“Should I kill your senior brother?”

Mister Zhuang was startled.

“Killing him would let you live a few more years.” Old Kui’s voice was cold.

A warmth arose in Zhuang’s heart, his clear features showing a smile:

“Thank you.”

Then, with an apologetic tone:

“You’ve helped me so much… I don’t have many days left, probably can’t return the favor…”

Old Kui shook his head.

“If you don’t care for your sect, I’ll set my earth and puppet technique to kill him. Living a few decades longer, you might still be able to help me.”

Mister Zhuang was silent for a moment, then shook his head with a sigh:

“I can’t kill him…”

Old Kui frowned.

“His Dao heart is infected by demon seeds… is it really that difficult?”

Zhuang said calmly:

“He’s entered the Demon Hall, become a Daoist. His inherited Dao name is ‘Guǐ’ (Deception). His spiritual consciousness cultivation, when deepened, approaches that of a heavenly demon.”

“Before, he was cautious; even the Grand Elder couldn’t handle him.”

“Now his Dao heart fully hosts the demon seed. His spiritual consciousness follows the path of ‘Guǐ’, infinitely cunning. He can no longer be killed simply by cultivation or Dao arts…”

Old Kui was also silent, an old gaze hiding complex emotions.

“How will you know if you don’t try?”

Zhuang sighed.

“You could kill him, and he would die, but who dies, and whether he truly dies… no one can know.”

Old Kui furrowed his brow.

“Dao heart with demon seeds… it’s not even the pinnacle demonic sect inheritance, right?”

Why is it so terrifying?

Zhuang looked regretful:

“Dao heart demon seed, no. But my senior brother… he’s a master of supreme spiritual consciousness…”

“In this world, who else could kill him?”

Zhuang closed his eyes slowly, helpless.

Suddenly, in his mind, Mo Hua’s innocent, radiant smile appeared.

Zhuang was momentarily stunned, then his eyes darkened. After long thought, he murmured:

“Too early…”

“Don’t die, just live well…”

…

In the Lu family corpse mine, at the Ten-Thousand-Corpses Altar.

Only after a Thick-Earth Formation was completed, spiritual consciousness clear, and the strange aura dissipated, did Mo Hua finally exhale.

At the same time, a chill ran through him, cold sweat forming on his back.

“So weird…”

He hadn’t even spoken the name, nor mentioned the Dao name, only thought deeply… and was sensed by this Daoist. His figure even appeared in his mind.

His body felt subtly uncontrollable.

He spoke the Dao name in thought, submitting to its path.

What kind of technique is this? Could it be another form of spiritual consciousness technique?

Mo Hua didn’t dare think further.

He hid the three words “Guǐ Daoist” deep in his heart, avoiding touching or contemplating it.

At the same time, he felt a bit dejected.

Previously, he thought with his mastery of spiritual-killing methods, he could dominate in spiritual consciousness battles.

Yet, just by thinking slightly, he was sensed.

And facing the deceptive shadow of this Daoist, he felt powerless, unable to resist.

Mo Hua sighed:

“In cultivation, one must be cautious, never arrogant.”

“There is always a higher mountain, always a higher heaven.”

“The techniques of high-tier masters are beyond comprehension, completely beyond what my small Qi-refining level can fathom.”

“Never let pride blind you!”

He silently warned himself several times, then nodded.

Then another question arose:

If this deceptive shadow is a spiritual consciousness technique…

Could he learn it in the future?

To cultivate supreme spiritual consciousness and verify the Dao with unmatched awareness.

Could he, one day, manipulate techniques as cunningly as this Daoist, making them unpredictable?

Now he’s still at Qi-refining, spiritual consciousness only twelve patterns.

But if one day his spiritual consciousness is strong enough, with enough spiritual techniques, could he directly confront this “Guǐ Shadow”?

If possible, then silently invoking the Dao name “Guǐ Daoist” to lure the shadow…

Could he “devour” it?

Would devouring the shadow enhance his spiritual consciousness?

After refining, could he comprehend some spiritual consciousness techniques?

…

Mo Hua barely thought it when his Sea of Consciousness trembled, a withered Daoist shadow appearing.

He jumped in fright, quickly gathering his thoughts.

Mentally repeating: “I didn’t think anything, I didn’t think anything…”

After an unknown time, spiritual consciousness cleared, the shadow vanished.

He finally exhaled, no longer daring to fantasize, and instead focused on observing the formation and the altar…

…

In the distant, desolate mountains.

“Sun Yi” sensed something and paused.

He sneered:

“Dare come again?”

“Thinking of my name, thinking I wouldn’t know?”

He sat cross-legged, took a blood pill, restoring his aura, and prepared to calculate, when suddenly his heart jolted.

A pang of unease arose.

It appeared from nowhere, gone just as fast.

As if fate itself moved, a spiritual consciousness had awakened.

It had set its sights on him, with ill intent… and a trace of “coveting” in it.

What does this mean?

Who could, who dares, covet me?

Sun Yi felt a flicker of anger.

He tried reverse-calculation.

But this consciousness was like a thought, extremely weak.

Like a hook tossed into water, creating a small ripple before sinking to the silent depths, waiting quietly.

The water surface returned to calm, with no trace.

As if someone deeply hid this thought in their heart.

And the natural order ran silently, all cause and effect operating unnoticed…

Sun Yi’s gaze, deep and hollow, finally no longer indifferent, now tinged with frost:

“Who…”

In the silent mountains, strange demonic cries sounded.

After some time, Sun Yi turned, continuing along his original path. His voice, hoarse, carried hatred and dread:

“Don’t let me find you…”

“Or else…”

His words trailed off, swallowed by the deep, uncanny mountains.