The Quest for Immortality - Chapter 1121 (Patreon)

Chapter 1121: Extravagance

Mo Hua pushed open the door and stepped out of the guest room.

The domineering, awe-inspiring wolf’s howl at the horizon had already faded.

The kneeling disciples of the Gray Wolf Sect rose to their feet. Yet in their eyes, a sheen of blood flashed and vanished, and their expressions had grown a shade more feral—somewhat wolfish, in fact.

Mo Hua paused, slightly taken aback.

Then he affected nonchalance and strolled a circuit around the outer mountain of the Gray Wolf Sect.

As he walked, he memorized the lay of the land, deduced the formation pattern, and quietly loosened his Divine Sense, trying to trace the aura left by the wolf’s howl.

But after circling the mountain, he still learned nothing.

He could not glimpse the source of that soul-stirring howl at all.

For all that the Gray Wolf Sect was a “weak” third-rank sect, it was still third-rank.

A third-rank sect had considerable scale. Its defensive formations and layout couldn’t be seen through at a glance.

Mo Hua’s Divine Sense had condensed into a core, but his cultivation had not yet reached Golden Core. He could not draw third-rank formations.

All the more since he was presently a “guest.” As a newcomer, it would be unseemly to act too rashly.

Mo Hua drew in his Divine Sense and pretended nothing had happened.

Still, his heart itched.

The anxious get to eat tofu while it’s hot.

If there were no clues, he could let it go. But with the meat already at his lips, to take no taste would be a failure to appreciate the moment.

Taking his time, Mo Hua wandered another circuit and “happened” to run into an elder he’d seen once before.

The elder greeted him. “Young Master, did you sleep well?”

Mo Hua said, “The first half of the night was fine, but at dawn something like a demonic beast was calling, noisy enough to keep me awake. Do you Gray Wolf Sect folks raise demonic beasts?”

The elder’s expression flickered.

It was but an instant, yet it could not escape Mo Hua’s razor-sharp Divine Sense.

The elder smiled. “You jest, Young Master. How could the Gray Wolf Sect raise demonic beasts? Perhaps some disciples were practicing body-tempering at dawn, shouting and hollering, disturbing your rest. I’ll go chastise them and tell them to be mindful. Please don’t trouble yourself over it.”

Hearing this, Mo Hua seemed to doubt himself a little and frowned. “Body-tempering at dawn? Did I really mishear? Not a demonic beast?”

The elder cupped his hands. “To have disturbed you is our failure.”

Mo Hua quickly waved it off. “It’s nothing, nothing. Elder, think nothing of it.”

“Then…”

“Please, go about your business.”

The elder smiled and bowed. “Then I’ll take my leave. Please make yourself at home.”

Mo Hua nodded.

After the elder departed, Mo Hua watched his back, his gaze shifting.

That elder was obviously hiding something.

And perhaps it was the power of suggestion from being in a sect of “wolves,” but whenever that elder smiled—genial as he seemed—there was always something of a jackal’s grin to it.

Mo Hua muttered inwardly. He wandered the sect a bit longer, and before long he sensed several wisps of indistinct Divine Sense latch onto him—he was being “watched.”

Not wishing to startle the snake, he strolled about a while more. Then, after wearing a suitably bored expression, he asked a Gray Wolf Sect disciple for directions, descended the mountain, and headed straight into Gray Wolf City.

Even in the city, the maggot-at-the-bone Divine Sense clung to him.

Feigning ignorance, Mo Hua toured the city as well: he saw the opulent, decadent main city, and he saw the shabby, threadbare streets around it.

Wealth and poverty beget each other. The more prosperous the place, the more closely squalor tends to follow.

This no longer surprised Mo Hua.

He sighed softly and then swaggered over to the Luo Family Escort Agency.

The escort chief Luo was in the front hall, sighing to himself. Seeing Mo Hua, he jumped in fright. “Young Master Mo, what brings you here?”

Mo Hua said, “I was bored, wandering about, and happened to come see you.”

Nerves jittered in the escort chief’s heart.

Elder Duan, Elder Sun, and six Gray Wolf Sect disciples had died at their hands.

Now Mo Hua had come to his door. If the Gray Wolf Sect grew suspicious, the consequences would be disastrous…

Yet, seeing Mo Hua so calm and unruffled, as if nothing had happened, the escort chief found himself oddly reassured.

“Young Master Mo is no ordinary person. Since he’s not worried, I’ve no need to fret either—lest I lose my composure…”

So thinking, he called toward the rear courtyard, “Ying Niang, Young Master Mo is here. Brew a pot of good tea.”

After a moment, the dashing Ying Niang came with a teapot and poured for Mo Hua—staring at him openly as she did.

Helpless, the escort chief waved her back. Then he asked in a low voice, “Young Master Mo, you’ve come because…”

Mo Hua said, “Truly, nothing. I just came to chat. In all of Gray Wolf City, you’re the only person I know. I’ve nowhere else to go.”

Only then did the escort chief breathe a sigh of relief.

After that, they chatted—Mo Hua asking, the escort chief answering.

Mo Hua’s questions were all trivial “nothings,” like a curious child—he asked about every little thing, even chicken-feather, garlic-peel matters.

Yet given Mo Hua’s cultivation and strength, the escort chief dared not slight him, and answered patiently, one by one, in full.

Thus they traded mindless chatter for a full hour.

The escort chief was near lulled to sleep by it.

Mo Hua, however, remained in high spirits—until his Divine Sense stirred. The probing sensers dogging him had grown very tired and withdrawn to rest. Only then did his eyes light up. He lowered his voice and asked:

“Escort Chief Luo, do you know anything about the Gray Wolf Sect’s ‘wolf’s howl’?”

“Wolf’s howl?” The escort chief blinked.

“Mhm.” Mo Hua nodded. “At the mao hour, a wolf roars to the sky; the Gray Wolf Sect’s disciples fall to their knees and bow in worship, their expressions filled with awe…”

The escort chief frowned and shook his head. “I… have never heard of such a thing…”

“Never heard?” Mo Hua was surprised. “The howl was so loud…”

Still the escort chief shook his head. “I’ve lived in Gray Wolf City this long, and I’ve never once heard a wolf’s howl.”

Mo Hua’s brows drew together. He mulled it over.

That was odd…

It seemed not everyone could hear the Gray Wolf Sect’s wolf’s howl. At the very least, ordinary cultivators within Gray Wolf City hadn’t noticed a thing.

There were many possible explanations.

But with so few clues, Mo Hua could not yet decide which was true.

The escort chief ventured, “Young Master Mo, this howl…”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Mo Hua said lightly. “Just asking in passing. Perhaps I misheard.”

Since the escort chief knew nothing, Mo Hua could not drag him into this. At early Foundation Establishment, the man could not withstand the sect’s retaliation.

Mo Hua turned to another matter. “Escort Chief Luo, does the Gray Wolf Sect have a poor reputation in ordinary times?”

“This…” The escort chief clearly felt it inconvenient to say.

But since Mo Hua had asked, he could not refuse entirely. “In the cultivation world, big fish eat small fish; small fish eat shrimp.”

“The Gray Wolf Sect is a ‘big fish.’ The other forces are the small fish and shrimp.”

“Their power grew by monopolizing, annexing, and expanding step by step.”

“Once, within this third-rank Gray Wolf City, besides the Gray Wolf Sect there were nearly a hundred other powers, even some third-rank ones. Now they’re sects in name only—the Gray Wolf Sect alone dominates.”

“When there were many forces, things were chaotic, but at least everyone got a sip of soup.”

“Now, with the Gray Wolf Sect alone in charge, their appetite keeps growing. They don’t just eat the meat—even the soup, they leave barely a drop.”

“That’s why you see the main city becoming more and more prosperous and decadent.”

“But the surrounding streets—and even the nearby minor territories—have fewer and fewer people, growing ever poorer.”

“As for monopoly and annexation—these are bloody affairs. There’s much filth in them… and I’d best not say more…”

The escort chief’s face was full of unsaid things.

Mo Hua nodded. He was about to ask more when he sensed those “watching” threads of Divine Sense twine around him again. He said no more, rose, and took his leave. “It’s getting late. I should head back.”

“Why not stay for a simple meal?” the escort chief urged.

“Next time.”

Watching Mo Hua, the escort chief could not help his anxiety and whispered, “That matter… Young Master, you…”

Mo Hua paused. “That matter?”

“I mean…” The escort chief faltered, dread gnawing at him.

Mo Hua understood and said, “Oh—you mean you want to join the Gray Wolf Sect, and you’d like me to put in a good word with the sect master?”

The escort chief blinked.

Mo Hua gave him a wink. The escort chief caught on and plastered on a smile. “Yes, yes…”

Mo Hua sighed. “That’s hard to say. The sect master is a very busy man. If he has time in a while, I’ll see if I can mention it…”

The escort chief bobbed his head. “Many thanks, Young Master. Many thanks…”

“All right, I’m heading back to the Gray Wolf Sect.”

Mo Hua spoke casually, then took his leave.

“Safe travels, Young Master.” Watching his back, the escort chief sighed softly.

…

Afterward, Mo Hua did not linger and returned to the Gray Wolf Sect.

The sect master truly was busy and had no time for him; no one else bothered him either, which suited Mo Hua fine.

He wandered the sect again for a while, then returned to his luxurious guest room to study formation texts.

That evening, a knock sounded at his door again.

Mo Hua opened it to find yet another beauty standing there.

This one was a different flavor entirely—tall, willowy, eyes like ripples, a sheer veil cloaking alabaster skin.

Her clothing might as well not have been there.

“The weather is hot, this humble woman…”

Bang—

Mo Hua shut the door and couldn’t help rubbing his eyes. “Saw something filthy…”

In his mind he summoned the image of his little senior sister, rinsed the filth away, let warmth and serenity fill his heart, and only then turned back to his formations.

The beauty at the door had not finished speaking before she was shut out. Shamed and angry, a trace of ferocity contorted her pretty face. She stomped her foot and stalked off. Halfway down the corridor she ran into a burly elder with a scar on his chest.

The beauty bowed. “Elder Ji.”

The man addressed as “Elder Ji” gently helped her up, his hand stroking her waist. “What’s this? Shut out?”

The beauty huffed, “He has a roguish face but he’s a block of wood.”

Elder Ji chuckled. “He may be a block, but I’m not. Come to my room later. I’ll comfort you.”

She threw him a sultry look. “Then I shall wait for you…”

Elder Ji’s soul swayed.

The woman swayed away.

Elder Ji’s gaze trailed the sway of her figure until she vanished. Then he glanced at Mo Hua’s door, frowning, perplexed.

“Even a peerless morsel like that doesn’t move him…”

“Could it be… he doesn’t like women?”

…

The next day, Mo Hua rose early on purpose. After a short cultivation, he half-sat at the window, waiting for the wolf to howl again.

For some reason, the mountains were empty and still—no howl came.

Mo Hua’s mood soured.

Just then, a knock sounded again.

He frowned, opened the door, and found a burly man with a scar on his chest standing there.

“You are?”

The big man cupped his hands and smiled. “My surname is Ji, an elder of the Gray Wolf Sect.”

Mo Hua nodded. “Elder Ji, what is it?”

Elder Ji said, “Young Master Mo is an honored guest. The sect master should have received you personally. But he is burdened with weighty affairs and truly cannot spare the time. Thus I must attend to this in his stead.”

Mo Hua understood. “You’re taking me out to play?”

Elder Ji nodded. “Yes.”

“Where to?” Mo Hua asked.

Elder Ji only said mysteriously, “I guarantee Young Master’s satisfaction.”

Mo Hua faintly felt the place would not be anything good.

But a man should fear nothing.

He nodded. “All right.”

Elder Ji led the way and brought Mo Hua into a tall, resplendent, dazzling pavilion in the heart of Gray Wolf City.

It stood in the main city, the tallest of all towers.

Mo Hua had noticed it yesterday while strolling.

Yesterday, he had only caught a hurried glimpse from outside.

Today, Elder Ji brought him inside—and up to the very top floor.

Jade terraces and soaring eaves.

Golden-threaded screens laid crosswise, gauzy sharkskin curtains like clouds, glass lamps bright as moons, censers breathing violet smoke.

For a moment, it felt like a human fairyland.

Its extravagance and pleasures rivaled, even surpassed, the great sects of fourth or fifth rank in the Qianxue Prefecture.

Mo Hua was rather shocked.

Elder Ji clapped and ordered wine and delicacies, and beauties to present a dance.

In a short while, dishes were arrayed, and beauties filed in.

These women were lovely, figures ranging from plump to slender, each with her own charm—ages from little girls with hair in topknots, to budding maidens, to pure young ladies, to flirtatious women, even to ripe, full-figured matrons.

Mo Hua only frowned deeper.

Reading his face, Elder Ji grew more convinced of his guess. When the dances ended, he clapped again and said:

“Change the set.”

On came a set of men.

There were boys, youths, and grown men.

They were just as comely, dressed in many styles—some gentle and handsome, some mature and steady.

Some were even cross-dressed—so ravishing they rivaled women.

A chill edged Mo Hua’s eyes.

He knew the sequence: poverty leads to the drive for riches; riches breed arrogance and luxury; luxury gives birth to licentiousness; licentiousness rots all.

But he had not expected rot to this degree…

Elder Ji stared at Mo Hua, a bit dumbfounded.

“Is he really a block of wood? Not enlightened? Doesn’t like women—and not men either?”

“Then what does he like?”

Sensing Mo Hua’s displeasure, Elder Ji waved hurriedly. “Down, down.”

Once the crowd withdrew, Elder Ji lowered his voice. “Young Master Mo, do you enjoy risking your fortune against fate?”

“Risking fortune against fate?”

Mo Hua blinked and then understood. Elder Ji wanted to lure him to “gamble.”

Seeing Mo Hua neither accept nor refuse, Elder Ji said:

“If you’ve never tried, why not? In the mortal world, pleasures come in ten thousand forms. Sample them all, and your Dao heart will be tempered, your path more steadfast.”

Mo Hua found a grain of sense in the elder’s words and nodded. “Fine.”

“Good.”

Elder Ji took Mo Hua down two floors into a vast, gold-and-jade main hall.

It was wide and packed—nobly robed cultivators everywhere, facing off across gaming tables, the din overwhelming.

This was a gambling den. The games took many forms, and the stakes varied.

But most of it still came down to Spirit Stones. Spirit Stones were the most universal currency of the cultivation world.

“Young Master Mo, come with me. I’ll let you try a bit of everything…” Elder Ji smiled, all warmth and welcome.

He then led Mo Hua through most of the den’s games, one by one.

He even dipped into his own purse and handed Mo Hua a full twenty thousand Spirit Stones as stake.

Not wishing to spurn the gesture, Mo Hua played along, in moderation.

And as expected, his luck was excellent. In a blink, the twenty thousand multiplied sixfold—he profited a full one hundred thousand.

Yet Mo Hua took no joy in it.

Because the setup was too obvious.

He could see at a glance that Elder Ji was deliberately letting him win—there was no surprise in it.

Moreover, even if Elder Ji hadn’t tilted the games, Mo Hua could win whenever he wished.

Gambling touched on cause and effect.

Mo Hua’s Divine Sense was extraordinary. He practiced Heavenly Mechanism Calculation and Heaven-Defying Secret Calculation; he could read the flux of causality. In common betting among Qi Refining or even Foundation cultivators, he could see outcomes at a glance. Even without Elder Ji’s “help,” he could easily win tens or hundreds of thousands of Spirit Stones.

But as he had said, gambling entangles karma.

The Spirit Stones won did not fall from the sky without reason; they were “taken” from the losers by exploiting the rules.

If you win, someone else must lose.

What you win is what others lose.

Thus, in essence, gambling was a kind of “exploitation.”

Not only the exploitation of wealth, but a stripping of fortune.

The human way: take from the lacking to serve the abundant.

Knowing karma so well, Mo Hua would never consider winning Spirit Stones through “gambling.”

Besides, the Heavenly Mechanism Calculation he learned from his master and the Heaven-Defying Secret Calculation learned from his shibo were towering arts. They could not be used for such cheap tricks.

Therefore, gambling was something he must not touch.

And so Mo Hua proceeded to “act recklessly,” dumping all the winnings Elder Ji had engineered for him back into the house. Then he cursed:

“What a trash den. Lost it all. No fun at all. I’m done…”

Elder Ji seethed.

He had worked so hard to rig the games and let Mo Hua win.

Yet this brat had no “talent” for gambling, refused all advice, and in the blink of an eye took the rigged winnings and, by the power of his “personal skill,” lost them all.

Useless mud that wouldn’t hold a wall! Even when allowed to win, he couldn’t win!

And he had the gall to call it a trash den and “no fun.”

Do you even know how to play?

“If not for the sect master’s orders to treat him kindly, I’d teach this boy a lesson…”

Elder Ji swallowed his anger and smiled again.

“Perhaps these tables don’t suit the Young Master. Why don’t we try something else?”

Mo Hua nodded with lofty indifference.

Thereafter, Elder Ji took Mo Hua through a round of gaudy entertainments.

Mo Hua was inwardly appalled, though his mouth still found nits to pick:

“Boring. Not fun. Too little clothing—an eyesore…”

…

Thus, under Elder Ji’s guidance, Mo Hua spent a day in the most corrupt and “decadent” of amusements.

As evening fell, he left that gilded pit of dissipation and rode a carriage back toward the Gray Wolf Sect.

Passing the outskirts of Gray Wolf City, Mo Hua looked out the window at another street.

On it, cultivators wore threadbare clothes and sallow skin.

Some begged. Some sold their strength. Some knelt, beaten, pleading for mercy. A mother, for the sake of her child, gritted her teeth and spent a few chipped Spirit Stones on a steamed bun…

Watching it all, Mo Hua’s face softened with pity. In the depths of his eyes, a faint black aura stirred.

Thanks for reading—this chapter was a lot to take in, and I appreciate you sticking with Mo Hua through the rot beneath the glitter. If you’re enjoying the ride, my Patreon could really use your help; even a small pledge keeps the translations flowing and my tea hot. And if you have a moment, please drop a rating or short review on NovelUpdates—those little notes do wonders for the book’s visibility.

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