The Quest for Immortality - Chapter 1111 (Patreon)

Chapter 1111: The Great Tiger

A second-grade high-rank Array Master?!

Across the entire Second-Grade Black Mountain Prefecture, in a thousand years there hadn’t been a single second-grade high-rank Array Master.

Even second-grade mid-rank ones were rarer than phoenix feathers and qilin horns.

Several white-haired old array masters in the hall exchanged glances, and the shock and doubt in their eyes was impossible to hide.

When they were young they had all been called formation prodigies.

Three years old to be enlightened, seven to learn formations, showing promise in their teens, reaching the ninth layer of Qi Refinement in their twenties, studying hard, and only in their forties or fifties passing the ranking examinations to become first-grade Array Masters.

That was already a rare prodigy.

They were the objects of fierce recruitment for surrounding clans and sects.

After that they would devote themselves to cultivation, painstakingly establish a Foundation, and then learn second-grade formation doctrines.

When their Dao matured they would participate in the grading exams with their peers — the bitterness and hardship in that process were hard to put into words.

One or two hundred years later, having drained their heart’s blood and whitened their hair, they finally reached second grade and became second-grade junior Array Masters.

That level already stood at the pinnacle of array-way in Black Mountain Prefecture.

Yet the youth before them, barely in his twenties, claimed to lecture on second-grade high-rank formations — to explain the principles behind the nineteen-pattern pinnacle of second-grade arrays. How could they not be shaken and secretly sick with envy?

Of course, many didn’t believe it.

A twenty-something who was a second-grade junior Array Master — though absurd — was barely believable.

But each step beyond junior was exponentially harder.

Second-grade mid-rank was dozens of times more difficult.

As for second-grade high-rank, it was an entirely different realm.

A twenty-something second-grade high-rank Array Master was simply inconceivable.

The assembled array masters stared at Mo Hua; some faces showed shock, some despondence, some jealousy, some scorn, some contempt, some terror, some suspicion… expressions varied, thoughts crowded.

Mo Hua ignored everything around him and began explaining the formation step by step according to his plan.

He started with the simplest: the principles of Five-Elements formations.

From basic array patterns to special variants.

Then he spoke of array pivots, from single pivots to composite pivot structures.

He expanded from Five-Elements principles to the Eight-Trigrams family, drawing analogies between Five Elements and Eight Trigrams, explaining fire arrays and Li arrays, water arrays and Gui arrays, earth arrays and Gen arrays, their mutual generation, transformation, and transmutation…

Finally he explained the combined use of Five Elements and Eight Trigrams — concurrence, fusion, complementarity, transformation… and other complex variations.

He also touched on some deeper matters: the superficial pivot structures of great arrays, the large-frame layouts of Five Elements and Eight Trigrams, and extensive compatibility among many array lines…

The array masters in the hall began the session with skepticism, and gradually fell silent.

When they reached arcane points they were astonished and applauded.

When they reached obscure points they frowned, bewildered.

When he described the grand array layouts, the maneuverings and contrapuntal strategies — depths so profound they made one’s scalp prickle and cold sweat bead — none could avoid a sense of despair, like a frog peering at the moon from a well, or a mayfly glimpsing the wide sky.

At that point, when they looked at Mo Hua again, they felt he was one with the Dao; a faint immortal light seemed to surround him, graceful as a transcendent.

If he were not an actual immortal descended to earth, such terrifying aptitude would be impossible. Nor could anyone at such an age have such awe-inspiring mastery of arrays…

When Mo Hua finished explaining the array theory, he fell silent.

The entire hall was solemn and quiet — one could hear a pin drop.

After a moment an old array master with hair completely white, the eldest in age and most senior in experience, rose slowly, cupped his hands and sighed to Mo Hua:

“I have studied formations for over two hundred years, yet I am far inferior to Young Master Mo. To see such depth after only twenty-odd years… I am ashamed beyond words…”

“Young Master Mo’s talent truly is… earth-shattering and shocking…”

Mo Hua pondered for a moment and then said slowly, “I actually don’t know whether I have talent.”

The white-haired master was taken aback.

Mo Hua reflected and continued, “My only talent is that I insist on drawing formations, studying formations, and comprehending formations every day… I study by day and dream of them by night. I keep single-minded focus, constantly learning and thinking — and besides that I don’t consider anything else, nor do I ever think about whether I have ‘talent’…”

A worm has no claws or fangs, yet its sinews are strong; it feeds on earth above and drinks the underworld below — it keeps steadfast focus.

The old master’s expression trembled; in the end he sighed and bowed:

“Thank… you, Young Master Mo, for imparting the Dao.”

The other array masters also rose one after another, sincere and convinced, bowing to Mo Hua and saying in unison, “Thank you, Young Master Mo, for imparting the Dao.”

Yan Teaching Assistant also stood and bowed solemnly to Mo Hua.

Mo Hua bowed and returned the courtesy.

A great scene of reverence quietly rose over the Dao Lecture Hall of Immortal-Passage City.

…

The array lecture ended perfectly.

Afterwards the lectures on alchemy, artifact forging, and talisman making took place in turn.

But in those fields there was no high-rank master like Mo Hua to preside and teach; the alchemists, artifact-refiners, and talisman-masters merely exchanged ideas and shared techniques.

Even so, everyone benefited greatly.

Immortal-Passage City began to develop a preliminary scholarly atmosphere for cultivation.

At the end of the lecture assembly, Mo Hua — who came from a great sect and possessed late-Foundation cultivation — stayed to explain the way of Foundation Establishment to the assembled cultivators.

This lecture drew an even larger crowd that filled the entire Dao Hall.

Outside the hall many cultivators crouched on rooftops or hung from trees just to hear Mo Hua lecture.

There were few who specialized in formations, but cultivation itself was something every cultivator pursued.

All Qi Refinement cultivators wanted to establish a Foundation. And every Foundation-established cultivator wanted to advance further.

Within the Great Void Sect, Foundation Establishment was not considered difficult.

That was because Tai Xu was a fifth-rank great sect with deep roots of transmission; for foundational realms like Foundation Establishment it possessed a system created and refined by generation after generation of ascended sect masters and the Void Ancestor — methods continually improved, validated, and iterated.

It was the fruit of the heart-blood of countless cultivation geniuses and high-rank cultivators.

When Mo Hua had cultivated in Great Void Sect he naturally felt nothing special.

Back in Immortal-Passage City, however, he realized that for ordinary roaming cultivators, the practices beyond Foundation Establishment were practically a desert.

Most wandering cultivators, even if they reached Foundation, had no idea how to proceed.

They could only feel their way forward with experience or a few scraps of guidance passed down by elders.

That made every step beyond Foundation for roaming cultivators tremendously difficult.

This was the essence of “cultivation without a gate.”

Mo Hua explained the Great Void Sect’s Foundation doctrines to the crowd, telling them what Foundation Establishment actually meant.

He spoke of how to breathe and refine spiritual power after early Foundation, how to refine it, precautions when breaking through and how to reduce failure rates, taboos that must never be touched, and which meridians absolutely must not be used to circulate spiritual power when forming the Zhou Tian…

His words astonished everyone; many wandering cultivators who had been lost in their practice felt as if a refreshing enlightenment had been poured over them.

Many cultivation details weren’t difficult — once you knew them you could do them.

But the difficulty lay in the word “know.”

With transmissions scarce and no one to guide them, wandering cultivators had no way to learn these things — it was like telling a fool to dream.

After the lecture assembly, Mo Hua’s reputation grew even further.

Everyone in Immortal-Passage City knew there was a “little immortal” among them — with heavenly talent, immortal bearing, astounding aptitude, profound cultivation, peerless array skill, and a benevolent heart who shared the Dao widely among lower-level cultivators.

Meanwhile Elder Yu had already begun planning Immortal-Passage City’s expansion.

When word spread that the expanded Immortal-Passage Sub-City would offer more space for roaming cultivators to settle, the itinerant cultivators who frequently passed through the area were overjoyed and grateful.

Some array masters, even some second-grade old masters, who had attended the lecture also decided not to leave.

They were well-off and experienced; they set up caves and dwellings in Immortal-Passage City and stayed.

After all, there was no other city in Black Mountain Prefecture as stable, prosperous, and lively as Immortal-Passage City, nor one with such a rich atmosphere of array study. From top to bottom it exuded vigorous energy.

Moreover, Immortal-Passage City was developing.

If they stayed as array masters there would be great prospects.

With more array masters, communication and sparring became easier — even casual tea gatherings facilitated exchange.

Immortal-Passage City filled with a sense of thriving vitality.

Everything was getting better, and everything seemed to be unfolding according to Mo Hua’s expectations.

Mo Hua looked at all this with satisfaction, and then suddenly realized he had done all he could do here for now.

Immortal-Passage City could thrive on Elder Yu and everyone else’s efforts.

“Perhaps… it’s time to leave…”

The thought surfaced abruptly yet felt perfectly natural.

Mo Hua’s expression darkened slightly; his gaze dimmed.

He had only just returned home, but in the blink of an eye he would leave again…

Life constantly moved between joy and sorrow, union and separation.

Where he would go next, what he would meet, what trials he would face, and when he might return — none of that was clear.

Mo Hua sighed deeply.

Sensing his departure, he cleared his schedule and spent the following days fully with his father and mother.

This was his duty as a son.

Liu Ruhua, as his mother, felt wistful and could not help but be a little sad, but she said nothing and spent every day thinking of ways to cook fine food for Mo Hua.

She wanted her son to eat well before leaving.

Mo Shan was equally silent, occasionally taking Mo Hua to stroll deeper into Black Mountain, retracing Mo Hua’s childhood paths, imparting some hunter tricks and life lessons — reminding him to plan carefully and act cautiously.

Regardless of what he met, staying alive was the top priority.

If facing a strong enemy, kill if you can and never hold back.

If you can’t kill, then escape — decisively.

When you kill an enemy, remember to finish it off; do not be careless or you might suffer for it…

These were words Mo Hua had been steeped in since childhood as a hunter of beasts; he had practiced them on his travels.

Even so, hearing the careful repetition of his father’s warnings still imprinted each phrase on him.

Such life lessons became more profound the more one experienced and practiced them.

Father and son continued deeper into Black Mountain.

It was the same path Mo Hua walked as a child, though the terrain had changed and the road showed many differences.

They encountered new curiosities along the way and Mo Shan told Mo Hua about them.

Mo Hua asked about the mountain’s recent conditions.

They walked and chatted leisurely.

“By the way, Father…” Mo Hua suddenly remembered and asked, “Uncle Meng and Aunt Meng — where are they? I haven’t seen them since I came back.”

Uncle Meng and Aunt Meng had lived on the same street as Mo Hua and had treated him kindly since childhood, always thinking of him when there was good food.

They had three sons — Da Hu, Shuang Hu, and San Hu.

The three Hu boys were strong and suited to body-refinement; they had been Mo Hua’s playmates, attending school, training, and wandering the streets together — sharing fun and food and gossip.

Mo Hua had always been physically weak as a child, and if anyone bullied him it was the three Hu boys who fought his battles.

The three had even brazenly stolen the elder’s golden-pheasant, roasted it, and gave it to Mo Hua to eat.

When the incident came to light the three declared themselves ready to die rather than give Mo Hua away…

But after Mo Hua left for his travels the three Hu boys never reappeared.

Mo Shan said, “Didn’t the three Hu boys join the Great Wilderness Sect? You remember that.”

Mo Hua nodded.

Mo Shan sighed lightly. “I heard those three are favored in Great Wilderness Sect; they’re doing well and have even become personal disciples. They arranged for their parents to be brought over so they could enjoy the good life…”

“Uncle Meng and Aunt Meng have suffered their whole lives; they must have endured countless hardships to raise those boys. Now their pains have yielded fruit…”

He felt gratified and spoke with heartfelt relief.

Mo Hua frowned.

“Great Wilderness Sect…”

For some reason unease niggled at him.

They continued deeper into the mountain.

Mo Hua watched the surroundings and still couldn’t stop worrying about the three Hu boys and Uncle and Aunt Meng…

After a while Mo Hua froze as a thought occurred to him; he spread his divine sense and swept the deep mountains.

His twenty-pattern divine sense spread, covering most of the deep mountain in an instant.

There were many second-grade demonic beasts in the mountain, lazing, resting, or sleeping.

Most didn’t notice Mo Hua’s sweeping sense.

Only a few exceptional second-grade beasts with sharp perception sensed a deathly danger and trembled within their caves.

But Mo Hua frowned.

Nothing?

Where did it go? Where is my big tiger?

Mo Shan noticed Mo Hua’s odd expression and asked, “What is it?”

Mo Hua hesitated a moment and asked, “Father, where is the big tiger in this mountain?”

“Big tiger?” Mo Shan was startled.

“Yes,” Mo Hua nodded. “The one I asked you to feed dried fish to while I studied in Qian Prefecture — that old tiger.”

Mo Shan suddenly realized and nodded. “Come to think of it, that tiger was odd. Unlike other beasts it didn’t eat people or behave like a savage — it seemed almost human in temperament.”

“I often brought dried fish to feed it as you asked. Everything was fine, but a year ago it suddenly disappeared.”

Mo Hua was surprised. “Disappeared?”

Mo Shan bowed his head. “Disappeared. I don’t know where it went. I asked other beast-hunters and none had seen it.”

“But your Uncle Zhao…”

Mo Shan frowned, recalling, and continued, “Uncle Zhao said one night when he was delayed hunting he stayed overnight on Black Mountain. At midnight the wind outside the camp roared and the tiger’s howls shook the ridges — it sounded like someone was hunting beasts.”

“He didn’t dare go out until dawn. When he finally did, the ground was covered in blood — human and beast — a swathe of broken trees, half-collapsed rocks; the fighting had been fierce.”

“Since then, no one in Black Mountain ever saw that strange old tiger again.”

Mo Hua’s gaze tightened and his expression fell.

“My big tiger… was hunted?”

He spent some time searching the deep mountain again but found no trace of the big tiger.

A year had passed; after weather and seasons, any clues would have long since faded.

In the following days Mo Hua asked other beast-hunters but found no concrete leads.

He couldn’t spend too much time on it now and had to let it go for the time being.

…

In the remaining days Mo Hua continued to keep his parents company and visited acquaintances.

Elder Yu came by occasionally to discuss Immortal-Passage City’s expansion progress.

In spare moments Mo Hua contemplated where he would consolidate his Core Formation.

The cultivation world was vast; even leaving the prefecture opened an enormous expanse. Immortal-Passage City and Black Mountain Prefecture occupied only a small corner of Li Province, and there were broader lands he had never set foot in.

There was even the Great Wilderness region, which was part of Li Province.

Where should he go to consolidate his Core? The choices were too many and he could not decide.

One midnight as Mo Hua sat at his desk considering the matter, long and fruitless, his divine sense grew hazy and he drifted into a dream.

In the dream he saw an old man, aged and sorrowful, face stained with blood and tears, kneeling before Mo Hua and begging:

“Divine Lord, you must not break your word…”

Mo Hua frowned. “How have I broken my word?”

The old man’s features blurred as he kowtowed again and again. “You promised me you would protect the bloodline of the Great Wilderness clan.”

“Divine Lord, do not go back on your word.”

Mo Hua’s gaze darkened. “Who are the descendants of the Great Wilderness clan?”

The old man did not answer, only kowtowed until his face was bloodied. “Divine Lord, you promised me.”

“Divine Lord, save my Great Wilderness.”

Mo Hua frowned. “How should I save them? Who should I save?”

The old man still did not answer — perhaps he did not know or dared not say — he continued to weep blood and plead without ceasing:

“Save the descendants of my Great Wilderness clan.”

“The world will be in flames; my Great Wilderness will meet utter destruction… my Great Wilderness clan will be exterminated…”

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