Chapter 549: Traveling Together
Chapter 551: Traveling Together
The morning sun had just risen.
In the mountain wilderness of green hills and clear waters…
The sky was a deep, high blue, the forests lush like folding screens, and a small creek murmured softly through the wilds.
Two figures walked in single file.
The one in front was tall and thin, wearing an ill-fitting Daoist robe stained with blood. His movements were stiff and eerie, like a puppet pulled by invisible strings.
The one behind was small in stature, delicate-featured, and light on his feet.
These two were none other than the Strange Daoist and Mo Hua.
They had walked through the entire night and continued on into the early morning.
The Strange Daoist walked slowly, seemingly in no hurry.
Mo Hua had no choice but to match his pace, following neither too fast nor too slow.
And the person he was following… was the Strange Daoist.
The Strange Daoist was vicious and unfathomable.
Scheming and manipulative, skilled in deceiving the mind.
The great demon Feng Xi of Tōngxiān City, the Dao-Sin Corpse King of Nanyue City—both were orchestrated by him.
And earlier, twenty Golden Core demonic cultivators had also been slaughtered by him through “Planting Demons in the Dao-Heart.”
At first, Mo Hua was tense and uneasy walking behind him.
But after half a day and a night, his nerves dulled, his heart eased up, and he gradually adapted.
He thought it over and felt that, for now, he should be safe.
Though he didn’t know the Strange Daoist’s true intent, since this man wanted to take him to see his master, he surely wouldn’t kill him before then.
And he probably wouldn’t “Plant Demons in his Dao-Heart” either.
Once that was done, his master would definitely notice—he would know Mo Hua was no longer his little disciple. The Strange Daoist would lose all leverage.
Mo Hua silently let out a breath.
At least until he met his master, he would probably remain “intact.”
As for after… that was harder to say.
But he’d worry about it once he met his master.
Mo Hua let out another long sigh.
He really wanted to see his master again. Otherwise, he feared he might never see him again in this lifetime…
But he had no idea what secrets his master carried, nor how many people and factions were plotting against him.
Now the Demonic Sect had laid down a killing formation.
Even Nascent Soul ancestors had taken action.
Golden Cores—once lofty existences—now popped up everywhere like stalks of chives.
And his “Senior Martial Uncle” the Strange Daoist had harvested more than twenty in one sweep using Dao-Heart Demon-Planting.
In this situation, even Foundation Establishment was like an ant.
Let alone a tiny Qi-Refining cultivator like himself.
With demonic cultivators roaming all over Dali Mountain, he couldn’t return to Lishan City on his own, couldn’t break the Soul-Refining Banner, couldn’t enter the Five Elements Protective Mountain Formation, and couldn’t meet his master.
Only by following the Strange Daoist could he sneak back in.
Mo Hua nodded slightly.
The Strange Daoist wanted him to lead the way to find his master.
And he wanted this Senior Martial Uncle to “guard” him—so he could see his master one more time.
Even if this Senior Martial Uncle might kill him later…
For the moment, as long as he stayed by his side, no one else could kill him.
After all, this was a “Daoist” of the Demonic Sect—someone capable of nurturing Dao-Sin.
Thinking he could see his master again—
Mo Hua’s steps grew noticeably lighter.
Walking in front, the Strange Daoist’s gaze slightly sharpened.
He had no idea what Mo Hua was thinking.
Clearly, the boy had looked uneasy at first.
But after a while, he seemed to figure something out, strolling behind him with a relaxed, carefree expression…
As if… he were just tagging along to visit a neighbor?
This brat… has some guts…
Does he not know who I am?
The Strange Daoist remained silent, walking on ahead.
Mo Hua followed behind with his hands clasped behind his back.
As they walked, Mo Hua soon felt a bit bored.
This “Senior Martial Uncle” of his limped along far too slowly…
At this pace, they’d reach Lishan City sometime next century.
Mo Hua wanted to ask but didn’t dare—he was afraid of angering him.
But after a while, he really couldn’t hold it in. He stepped closer and whispered:
“Senior Martial Uncle… aren’t you in a hurry?”
“Aren’t you walking just the tiniest bit too slow…”
“At this rate, my master is going to get caught by those demons…”
“Aren’t you going to walk faster?”
…
The Strange Daoist’s body paused, but he didn’t answer. He simply continued walking.
Seeing no anger, Mo Hua relaxed and grew a bit bolder.
“Probably didn’t ask the right question, so Senior Martial Uncle can’t be bothered to answer…”
Mo Hua searched for new topics:
“Senior Martial Uncle, what are you planning to do when you find my master?”
“Senior Martial Uncle, do you not get along with my master?”
“Senior Martial Uncle, are Daoists really strong?”
“Senior Martial Uncle, if someone gets their Dao-Heart planted with demons, do they definitely die?”
“Senior Martial Uncle…”
…
Mo Hua chattered endlessly, a little babbler who couldn’t stop.
The Strange Daoist finally ran out of patience. He stopped, turned, and his pitch-black pupils swept over Mo Hua.
Mo Hua immediately shut his mouth and became obedient.
After that, they walked in silence, passing by another small mountain village.
The village was sparsely populated; normally, it should be home to some poor itinerant cultivators who lived off spirit herbs. Remote, quiet, rarely disturbed.
On the right side of the road stood a tiny noodle shop.
Amid the green mountains and clear waters, the fragrance of noodles drifted out.
Mo Hua stopped.
The Strange Daoist walked a few more steps, realized Mo Hua had stopped, turned back, and stared at him with hollow, icy eyes.
“I’m hungry. I can’t walk anymore…” Mo Hua said honestly.
He had walked for a full day and night.
He wasn’t a body-refining cultivator; his stamina was weak. Earlier he had been tense, so he didn’t feel it.
Now that his mind had eased—and with that delicious smell—his stomach growled, and his legs refused to go further.
The Strange Daoist looked at him, his expression growing complicated.
Kill him… can’t kill him yet…
Seed the Dao-Heart with Devil… can’t do that either…
But if he didn’t eat, he really couldn’t walk…
The Strange Daoist stood stiff and silent for a long while. Though he made no expression, it somehow felt like he let out a sigh. He turned and walked toward the noodle shop.
Mo Hua’s eyes lit up, and he followed with a bright grin.
The noodle shop was run by a couple of low-level Qi-Refining itinerant cultivators.
Their cultivation was shallow; they ran this shop for a living.
Mo Hua had scanned the place with his Divine-Sense earlier; it was indeed just an ordinary noodle shop, and the couple were just ordinary cultivators.
There were a few customers inside—mostly nearby itinerants—nothing unusual.
Mo Hua and the Strange Daoist entered.
The shopkeeper, simple-faced and dressed in coarse linen, greeted them warmly:
“Honored guests, what would you like to eat?”
He said that and was just about to glance at the Strange Daoist.
Mo Hua quickly stepped forward, waved a small hand to steal his attention, preventing him from looking at the Strange Daoist. He then pulled out two spirit stones and said crisply:
“Two bowls of noodles. Make them quick!”
Mo Hua had already calculated this well.
He had to pay for the noodles himself.
With Martial Uncle looking like that, there was no way he’d pay for him…
And Mo Hua certainly didn’t dare make him pay…
Martial Uncle’s temperament was unpredictable.
If he got annoyed and seeded someone’s Dao-Heart with Devil, slaughtering everyone in the shop, that would be on Mo Hua’s conscience.
Seeing the spirit stones, the shopkeeper’s face lit up, but then he hesitated:
“Little brother, two stones… that’s too much. You don’t need that for two bowls of noodles…”
“It’s fine.” Mo Hua waved, “Just add more toppings.”
Only then did the shopkeeper beam with joy and thank him repeatedly.
Seeing the shopkeeper’s expression, Mo Hua felt a faint sigh rise in his heart.
Two spirit stones meant little to him now, yet for these bottom-tier itinerants, it was likely a full day’s income…
In this world, some had millions of spirit stones and spent without care—
While others lived counting every crumb, day by day…
Mo Hua sighed.
The Strange Daoist glanced at him, a flicker of surprise in his dead-dark eyes.
The two took seats.
There were a handful of other diners.
Mo Hua deliberately picked a remote corner and used his small body to block the Strange Daoist—keeping him from seeing others, and keeping others from seeing him.
The Strange Daoist remained expressionless; he didn’t seem to care.
These itinerants were ants to him, beneath his notice.
Soon the shopkeeper brought over the noodles.
The portions were generous—plenty of noodles, plenty of toppings, even two slices of meat.
It wasn’t spirit-beast meat—looked like low-grade beast meat—slightly gamey, not cooked too soft, but edible.
Naturally, nowhere near what Mother made.
But the taste was good enough; the noodles were fragrant, the broth rich.
Mo Hua wasn’t picky, and he was starving. He held the big bowl and slurped the hot noodles eagerly.
After a while, he looked up and saw the Strange Daoist hadn’t touched his chopsticks.
Mo Hua ate while thinking…
His “Martial Uncle”—with Dao-Heart Devil-Seeding, using someone else’s body—was essentially a “dead person” at the moment.
A dead person didn’t need to eat.
Mo Hua frowned, mind already jumping elsewhere…
Martial Uncle… where had he been parasitizing before?
Had he been tracking Shifu the whole time?
When did he start calculating Shifu’s location and setting up his plans?
And…
Back at Great Li Mountain… his timing was way too coincidental…
When had he calculated Little Senior Brother and Little Senior Sister’s tracks?
Mo Hua took a few more bites, then couldn’t resist sneaking a glance and whispering:
“Martial Uncle…”
“Back at Great Li Mountain… were you already nearby?”
“And you watched that Saint Son surround us.”
“And when Senior Sister and Senior Brother broke their life-saving Longevity Talismans and had no protection left… that’s when you acted…”
“You couldn’t do anything about the Longevity Talisman either, right?”
…
Mo Hua spoke while nodding, feeling his deduction was quite reasonable.
The Strange Daoist finally lost patience. His pitch-black pupils fixed on Mo Hua, and he spoke his first words on this entire journey:
“Eat.”
His voice was flat, cold, and faintly irritated…
“Oh.”
Mo Hua obediently lowered his head and finished his noodles.
When he was done, he glanced at the Strange Daoist, then at the untouched bowl in front of him, and licked his lips.
Food shouldn’t be wasted.
Mo Hua silently stretched out his small hands, pulled the Strange Daoist’s bowl toward himself, and wolfed it down as well…
The Strange Daoist’s wooden face froze for a moment.
He stared at Mo Hua, shock flickering in his dark eyes…
…
After finishing both bowls, the two continued on their way.
Mo Hua, stuffed and round-bellied, walked ahead to digest.
The Strange Daoist followed behind, staring at his back in confusion.
This little thing… is very strange…
He couldn’t quite see through him.
It seemed his junior brother had placed some sort of method on him, hidden some secret, obscured some karma…
Junior brother… what exactly did you hide on this child?
What karma did you cover up?
And you hid him like a treasure—so deep, so thoroughly—not letting me know a thing…
If the boy hadn’t appeared himself, he wouldn’t even have realized his junior brother had taken such a little disciple…
The Strange Daoist studied Mo Hua again, frowning.
Terrible spiritual roots, terrible physique.
No special bloodline.
His Divine-Sense… though obscured by something, faintly blurred… was barely decent.
Aside from that, he was just mischievous and acted in ways…
Unexpected…
With such aptitude, what in the world did his junior brother value in him?
And stranger still…
The aura on this child felt both unfamiliar and familiar…
Clearly this should be their first meeting, yet it felt as though he had already crossed paths with him countless times, sharing countless strands of karma…
The Strange Daoist’s hollow eyes held deep confusion.
What karma could he possibly have with a mere Qi-Refining kid?
How could they have any ties?
He looked at Mo Hua again, his pupils darkening.
“No matter…”
“When I meet my junior brother, everything will become clear…”
…
On the road outside Lishan City, the two continued walking.
They walked very slowly, yet step by step, little by little, they drew closer to Líshān City.
The closer they got, the heavier the demonic aura grew.
And outside Lishan City, almost no local cultivators remained.
Most were demonic cultivators.
Aside from them, there were many unfamiliar faces—people wearing luxurious robes, carrying distinctive spirit tools, techniques varied, Dao arts exquisite and rare—cultivators from the Dao Court’s various noble clans and sects.
They were undoubtedly outsiders.
Some might have come straight from Dao Prefecture, where the Central Dao Court was located.
Their numbers were large, and their realms high.
All were either at Foundation Establishment or Golden Core; not a single Qi-Refining cultivator in sight.
The entire Great Lí Mountain seemed to have turned into a chessboard, and every cultivator still present was merely a chess piece.
Mo Hua couldn’t help but frown.
“Does Master truly carry such a great secret?”
What exactly did they want from his master?
Mo Hua shook his head.
He knew none of it.
He simply remembered his master’s warning:
“As your Master… I have a heaven-defying opportunity, and an earth-shaking secret… but none of it can be passed to you, nor can I even speak of it.”
“If I pass it to you, it will bring calamity upon your head.”
“Even knowing it would entangle you in karmic cause and effect.”
“So you must know nothing… and you must not try to know.”
If he didn’t know, then he didn’t know.
As long as he could see his master… that was enough.
So Mo Hua told himself quietly.
However, the closer they got to Líshān City, the more chaotic the journey became.
The outer ring of cultivators were still somewhat restrained.
But the nearer they got, the thicker the killing intent became.
Following the Strange Daoist, Mo Hua saw nothing but blood and carnage—cultivators fighting, dying, and falling one after another.
In the open, most were Dao Court cultivators and demonic cultivators killing each other.
But in the shadows, demonic cultivators were butchering their own as well, their methods brutal and savage.
Even among the Dao Court’s forces, some took advantage of the chaos to settle old grudges or grab profit, secretly murdering their own side…
After killing, they’d even forge the scene to frame the demonic cult.
This was a scene Mo Hua had never witnessed.
Righteous was righteous, and demonic was demonic, yet here and now… the “righteous” looked no different from the “demonic.”
Mo Hua could only shake his head.
The human heart was truly complicated…
And his own situation grew more precarious.
Because he was following the Strange Daoist.
The Strange Daoist’s aura was gloomy and eerie—clearly a demonic cultivator.
And Mo Hua was just a child; though he looked innocent, walking through a battlefield like this beside such a sinister-looking Daoist was… well… suspicious.
None of the righteous or demonic forces present recognized Mo Hua.
Just a mere Qi-Refining kid.
No one cared whether he was good or evil, no one cared about his allegiance, and certainly no one cared whether he lived or died.
Thus, every now and then, someone would try to kill him.
The righteous side was still somewhat restrained—they wouldn’t kill lightly.
But the demonic side was another story entirely.
Some looked at Mo Hua’s white, tender skin and wanted to eat him.
Some sensed something off about him and wanted to kill him immediately.
Some saw he was a young boy and wanted to use him as a pill ingredient.
And some shameless female demonic cultivators, seeing Mo Hua’s handsome and adorable appearance, wanted to “harvest” him…
Whenever that happened, Mo Hua immediately hid behind the Strange Daoist, letting his Martial Uncle “back him up.”
And the Strange Daoist never refused.
Anyone who dared stand before him—righteous or demonic—would have their Dao-heart corrupted into madness, their minds shattered; some killed themselves, others slaughtered their own allies…
Mo Hua simply watched from behind.
Perhaps the scenes were bloody, perhaps they were brutal.
But he had been a demon-hunter; such scenes weren’t new to him, so he didn’t feel afraid.
He simply watched the Strange Daoist standing in the wind, eyes pitch-black and indifferent, not lifting a single finger as he toyed with these ferocious and powerful demonic cultivators, driving them to their deaths—slaughtering them cleanly…
No matter how many times he saw it, Mo Hua found it utterly astonishing.
But as he kept watching, one question rose in his heart:
“This Dao-Heart Seeding Demons technique… is incredible…”
“Can I learn it?”