The Quest for Immortality - Chapter 1131 (Patreon)

Chapter 1131: Elder Ji

At Gray Wolf Sect’s compound, Mo Hua sat drinking tea with Sect Master Zhao.

“Sect Master Zhao, I’ll be leaving tomorrow,” Mo Hua said.

Sect Master Zhao started, then brightened, as if a mountain lifted from his head; on the surface, however, he still wore a look of reluctant concern.

“Master Mo, why not stay a few more days…”

Mo Hua’s expression turned thoughtful.

Seeing this, Sect Master Zhao’s heart gave a hard thump.

He’d only been making polite noises—surely this “Little King of Hell” wouldn’t actually decide to stay?

Truly, one word can bring ruin.

Anxiety prickled through Sect Master Zhao.

Fortunately, Mo Hua finally shook his head. “No. I have to go. I appreciate your good intentions.”

Sect Master Zhao couldn’t help smiling. “Not at all. It’s only what I ought to do.”

“I meant the plans I told you about earlier…” Mo Hua said.

“I’ll see everything through exactly as you said,” Sect Master Zhao promised at once. “Every item will be put into practice.”

Mo Hua looked at him and slowly nodded.

This Sect Master Zhao had his little schemes and a touch of hypocrisy, but he was steady when it came to work, and not truly a bad man.

After a moment’s thought, Mo Hua asked, “Sect Master Zhao, do you trust me?”

Sect Master Zhao froze.

In this situation, could he dare say he didn’t?

He nodded. “Naturally, I trust Master Mo.”

Mo Hua inclined his head, then his gaze turned solemn and his voice sank. “In the days ahead, a great calamity will fall upon Li Prefecture. Where the flames of war pass, all living things will be dragged into suffering.”

Sect Master Zhao blinked.

He’d thought Mo Hua was joking.

Out of nowhere—what calamity? What slaughter?

But Mo Hua’s face was serious; this was no casual remark. Sect Master Zhao felt an involuntary chill.

Mo Hua’s methods were uncanny. Clearly only at Foundation Establishment, yet with a few words he could sow discord and take lives. Even his own position as sect master had been shoved onto him by this Master Mo.

Remembering all this, Sect Master Zhao straightened, grave.

Mo Hua’s expression was equally heavy.

He was tucked away in one corner of Gray Wolf City, relatively cut off, unable to see the bigger picture; he had no idea what was happening in the Great Wilderness or beyond Li Prefecture.

But it was he who had ignited the Great Wilderness Dragon Banner.

He had also seen the meteoric fire falling at the horizon.

The sky over Li Prefecture looked as usual for now, yet within the surging clouds the Heavenly Mechanism had already been tugged—somber and slaughterous, thrown into chaos.

From the south, waves of scorching heat came rushing like a fire dragon.

It was iron and fate, blood and flame braided together—searing karma.

An unstoppable trend.

The tranquility of Immortal-Passage City and Gray Wolf City was temporary only—the calm before the storm.

What was coming would still sweep across them.

Preparations had to be made early.

“The arrays we discussed, the artifact-refining shop, the state roads—finish them as soon as possible. The earlier they’re done, the safer you’ll be. Gray Wolf City will have that much more power to protect itself.

“Otherwise, the entire city, even the whole of Gray Wolf Prefecture’s borders, will be struck by great disaster.

“Even though you’re a Golden Core and a sect master, you won’t be able to remain untouched.

“You wouldn’t want to have just taken the seat and then see the sect exterminated… would you?”

A chill ran through Sect Master Zhao. He bowed solemnly. “I will remember Master Mo’s words.”

Mo Hua nodded, then took out a jade slip and handed it over. “You actually have decent talent for formations. But stuck in a small place like Gray Wolf City, your vision is limited. It’ll be hard to improve much further.”

“I’m leaving you some array diagrams and insights. Follow them step by step and practice diligently; perhaps you can go a step higher in the future…”

Half convinced, Sect Master Zhao accepted the jade slip. A brief sweep—and his mind reeled.

He was a Golden Core early-stage cultivator, able to draw second-grade, seventeen-pattern arrays.

He had been the chief formations elder of Gray Wolf Sect.

In and around Gray Wolf Prefecture, he was a once-in-five-centuries array grandmaster. In this little patch of land, his attainments could fairly be called “the very peak.”

Often he had felt the chill of standing too high and alone.

Until he met Mo Hua.

At first he hadn’t believed Mo Hua’s arrays were that much superior.

Not until Mo Hua used strange, unfathomable formations to cripple the former sect master did he grasp the gap.

Now, seeing the essence within this jade slip, he truly understood what “there’s always someone better, always a higher sky” meant.

He realized he’d been a frog peering at the moon from a well.

The insights in this jade slip progressed from shallow to deep, saturated with a profound mastery of second-grade arrays. Every line was a pearl; every principle, exquisite.

Elsewhere, this would be the kind of precious doctrine countless array masters would kill for.

And such vital knowledge—Master Mo had casually given him for free…

Not even the array master he had kowtowed to with three kneelings and nine prostrations had been this generous to him.

Sect Master Zhao’s feelings tangled—sour and sweet all at once.

“Study well,” Mo Hua urged. “Fame and profit are fleeting. For an array master, formations are the root of one’s standing.”

Moved, Sect Master Zhao cupped his hands. “Thank you for teaching me the Way, Master Mo.”

…

After explaining a few more follow-up matters, Mo Hua set out the next day.

Sect Master Zhao personally escorted him to Gray Wolf Sect’s mountain gate. Half relieved, half respectful, he said, “May Master Mo’s journey be smooth and his future bright. Please take care.”

Mo Hua returned, “Sect Master Zhao, take care,” then boarded the carriage and left Gray Wolf Sect.

The carriage rolled along the main road toward the outskirts of Gray Wolf City.

The scenery along the way unfolded before his eyes.

In the main city, those resplendent towers of decadence had all been torn down and converted into scripture pavilions where one could borrow the sect’s foundational manuals and spell texts.

Beyond the main city lay the outer city where itinerant cultivators gathered.

The streets had a hint of life again.

Many loose cultivators were earning spirit stones by helping build the artifact-refining shop and the state roads for Gray Wolf Sect—enough to help feed their families.

Children on the streets could finally get a full meal.

Thus, even these poor lanes had a little more laughter.

Poverty breeds a thousand evils.

Sometimes, eradicating poverty is a kind of “slaying demons.”

As for the future—that would depend on their own efforts.

At last, the carriage circled to the outer city.

Mo Hua inspected the artifact-refining shop and the state roads once more. Only after he confirmed that everything was being implemented step by step according to his array plans did he finally relax.

He also understood why Gray Wolf Sect had previously wanted such a large artifact-refining shop and such broad state roads.

It wasn’t only because the sect wanted to bleed the people.

More importantly, it had been the former sect master’s preparations for “rebellion.”

The refining shop was meant to forge the “armaments” for a cultivation war.

And the state roads were arteries connecting Gray Wolf Prefecture to Big Black Mountain Prefecture, and eventually—using Li Prefecture as a springboard—to Kan Prefecture to the north.

With armaments and with roads—

If Gray Wolf Sect then used witchcraft to raise ferocious “wolf soldiers,” they could conquer the entire Gray Wolf Prefecture and its neighbors.

One had to admit, the former sect master’s ambition was vast, his mind deep, his plans meticulous.

Who would have imagined that the head of a third-grade sect would dare harbor thoughts of rebellion?

Mo Hua sighed lightly.

Fortunately, both that sect master and Mister Wu had been dealt with in time.

Though the Great Wilderness Dragon Banner had still been lit in the end, at least the “spark” of Gray Wolf City’s treason had been snuffed out ahead of time.

The foundation for revolt was gone.

Otherwise, at this very moment, Gray Wolf City would likely already be engulfed in war.

The flames would sweep through the city and its surroundings; under Gray Wolf Sect’s “starving wolf” aggression, Immortal-Passage City would not have been spared either.

Now, at least Immortal-Passage City, Big Black Mountain, and even the whole of Gray Wolf Prefecture still had breathing room—and time to prepare for the calamity to come.

It was misfortune within fortune.

Mo Hua felt a measure of relief.

Then he left Gray Wolf City alone, traveling by carriage.

He briefly considered paying Boss Luo the caravan master another visit to say goodbye.

After all, he had few acquaintances in the city.

But on second thought, he let it go.

The karma clinging to him was too great; he was literally carrying the rebellious dragon banner. Seeing Boss Luo now would be no kindness—he might drag the man into danger.

Making a living as a caravan master wasn’t easy.

Better to spare him the entanglement.

There was, however, another “acquaintance” Mo Hua intended to see.

…

Two miles south of Gray Wolf City, at a road that skirted a mountain foot, the carriage slowed.

Two men in the Dao Court’s black uniforms stood there, escorting a prisoner in ragged clothes, head hooded in black cloth, a scar across his chest, hands and feet bound tight by Spirit-Binding Shackles.

The carriage eased to a stop. Mo Hua lifted the curtain.

One of the Dao Court Judicial Officers stepped forward and bowed. “Master Mo, by Sect Master Zhao’s order, we’ve brought the man.”

Mo Hua nodded. “You’ve worked hard.”

The two officers pushed the prisoner into the carriage, cupped their hands, said, “This man is yours to dispose of, Master,” and took their leave.

Only Mo Hua and the prisoner remained inside.

The prisoner was bloodied, obviously tortured, still struggling restlessly.

Mo Hua pulled off the black hood and said mildly, “Elder Ji, long time no see.”

Elder Ji, haggard and miserable, stared wide-eyed at Mo Hua—shock and fear warring in his gaze.

But the shackles locked his mouth; he couldn’t speak at all.

The Dao Court had a full set of instruments. Their restraints were many, able to lock a man’s four limbs, mouth and nose—even his meridians and sea of qi.

Mo Hua crooked a finger; a stroke of ink shimmered and the lock on Elder Ji’s mouth clicked open.

Elder Ji spat blood, then glared at Mo Hua with a mix of pain and hatred.

If not for Mo Hua, the former sect master wouldn’t be dead, and he would still be soaking in a harem of beauties, living happy days as an elder.

This Mo Hua was a walking calamity…

Sitting on a soft wolfskin rug, Mo Hua sipped his tea at leisure. “Look at me like that again,” he said lightly, “and I’ll dig your eyes out.”

Elder Ji shuddered and lowered his head at once, not daring to meet Mo Hua’s gaze.

A moment later, realizing his own spinelessness, he seethed with shame—but even angry, he couldn’t bring himself to look up.

He remembered perfectly well how the former sect master had been toyed to death.

And how Mister Wu had mutilated himself.

Head bowed in unwilling silence, Elder Ji finally heard Mo Hua speak again.

“You should be thanking me. I had Sect Master Zhao pull you out of the Dao Prison. Otherwise, with your crimes, you’d spend the rest of your life under torment and die miserably in there…”

That was how he said it.

But Elder Ji felt no gratitude at all.

If not for Mo Hua, he never would have entered the Dao Prison in the first place.

He raised his eyes slightly and asked, “You… hauled me out for what?”

“I want to ask you a few things,” Mo Hua said frankly.

“What things?” Elder Ji frowned.

“The wound on your chest,” Mo Hua said. “Where did it come from?”

“I told you before,” Elder Ji answered. “A beast left it.”

“What beast?” Mo Hua asked.

Elder Ji’s face shifted. After a pause, he said slowly, “A… Tiger Demon…”

Mo Hua’s brows lifted. “What did it look like? Where did it wound you?”

Elder Ji fell silent, then scowled. “Why are you asking me this?”

“You’re questioning me?” Mo Hua’s face didn’t hold a smile.

Elder Ji stiffened. A flicker of temper rose in him—but when he looked up and met Mo Hua’s eyes, black as ink and deep as an abyss, that trace of courage vanished without a trace.

“Outside Immortal-Passage City, in Big Black Mountain,” he muttered. “A second-grade mid-stage Tiger Demon—black and white stripes, extremely vicious. It took killing more than a dozen of my men to subdue it…”

“And then?” Mo Hua’s gaze darkened.

“And then…” Elder Ji’s eyes flickered. “Then we killed it, of course. Cut it up—avenge my men…”

Mo Hua’s look turned colder. “Why were you in Immortal-Passage City hunting a second-grade Tiger Demon to begin with?”

“Because we had sect business and happened to pass by Immortal-Passage City,” Elder Ji said under his breath. “We camped in Big Black Mountain for the night, lit a fire, and that beast had the gall to crash into us. Naturally we… killed it…”

Mo Hua nodded slowly.

He took out a strange iron slab and tossed it on the floor. “Kneel on it,” he ordered.

Elder Ji naturally refused.

Mo Hua’s eyes went cold; killing intent leaked out.

Elder Ji had no choice but to kneel.

The instant his knees touched the iron, he screamed. His face twisted; a pain beyond words drilled into his bones.

He tried to stand.

Mo Hua pointed, and a Water Prison Technique descended, binding Elder Ji’s limbs and pinning him to the array-carved slab.

It felt like ten thousand needles were stabbing his knees.

The needles carried the Five Elements—now roasting with fire, now searing with water, now piercing with metal, now poisoning with wood, now stiffening with earth—cycling without end. Even the layers of pain were finely shaded, fiendishly ingenious.

Elder Ji wanted to die.

He had never suffered like this in his life.

“M-M-Master Mo… p-please…” His voice trembled; the pain left him barely able to form words.

Mo Hua ignored him. He poured tea, took a sip to moisten his throat, and finally said, “I don’t like being lied to.

“Think it over. When you’re ready to tell the truth, then we’ll talk. Otherwise, your screams are better than your lies.”

Elder Ji became even more certain that Mo Hua was a little ghost who’d crawled out of the underworld.

Weird. Pitiless. Vicious.

A face of innocence—and he took pleasure in torment.

The arrayed torture device kept turning; the pain kept mounting.

Elder Ji broke. “I’ll talk! I’ll talk!”

Mo Hua continued to drink as if deaf.

“I’ll talk! I’m talking!”

Still nothing.

Elder Ji’s mind nearly collapsed. “Master—young master—ancestor— I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything!”

Only then did Mo Hua seem to hear him. He withdrew the Water Prison Technique and shut down the array on the device with a soft sigh. “See? If you’d spoken earlier, we could’ve been done. Why suffer so much for nothing…”

Elder Ji seethed with hatred and fear.

He finally understood—falling into this youngster’s hands left no room for bargaining.

Cross him, and he really would “play” you to death.

His earlier judgment had likely been right.

This Master Mo didn’t fancy women or men. Either he had risen above base pleasures, noble of character—or he was simply a “deviant” whose mind ran against the grain and who would use any means to reach his ends.

“I’ll ask again,” Mo Hua said. “That tiger—did you really kill it?”

Elder Ji no longer dared conceal anything. “I… don’t know.”

Mo Hua looked at him calmly.

Elder Ji shuddered. “I truly don’t know. I sold it.”

“Sold it?”

“Yes,” Elder Ji blurted. “I sold it!”

Seeing Mo Hua’s doubt, he rushed on, “About ten years ago, a cultivator of uncommon status came to Gray Wolf City. I… I… entertained him—food, drink, brothels…”

“He enjoyed himself,” Elder Ji said, “and made me a deal—he wanted me to capture ‘tigers’ for him.”

Mo Hua’s eyes narrowed. “Capture Tiger Demons?”

Elder Ji nodded. “Yes—especially those that dominated a mountain forest, the strong ones. Better if their bloodline was special—like those with the ‘king’ character on their foreheads…”

“But, Master, you know Tiger Demons are kings among beasts, rare to begin with. Ones with the ‘king’ character are rarer still.”

“I didn’t want to agree, but he said if I succeeded, he’d give me great benefits—and grant Gray Wolf Sect a tremendous opportunity.”

“I wasn’t sure, so I reported it to the sect master. He agreed, and even assigned me a team to hunt Tiger Demons.”

“Later, after asking around, I learned that deep in Big Black Mountain outside Immortal-Passage City lived a great black-and-white tiger.”

“I spent untold effort, lost more than a dozen men, and finally captured it…”

“Once I had it, I delivered it to that ‘distinguished guest.’”

“And he did keep his word. He gave me plenty—techniques, spirit stones, beauties…”

“What about the ‘tremendous opportunity’ for Gray Wolf Sect?” Mo Hua asked, eyes flicking.

“I don’t know,” Elder Ji said, shaking his head. “You’d have to ask the sect— the former sect master.”

He had spirit stones and beauties; that was plenty for him.

“Who was this guest? Where is he now?” Mo Hua asked.

“I don’t know,” Elder Ji said quickly. Seeing Mo Hua’s displeasure, he added in a rush, “Master, I truly don’t. He was a ‘distinguished guest’; I wasn’t qualified to ask. I just handled the food, drink, and play. I didn’t touch anything else.”

“Can you find him?” Mo Hua asked.

Elder Ji frowned, thinking carefully. “There’s only one lead…”

“When I caught the Tiger Demon, I had it trussed up and transported to a city south of Gray Wolf City called Little Relay City. There, on the guest’s orders, I delivered it with my own hands to a steward at the local relay station…”

“But that was ten years ago…”

“Little Relay City…” Mo Hua’s eyes narrowed. He pointed at Elder Ji. “You’re guiding the way. We’re going to Little Relay City.”

Elder Ji hesitated.

“Find the man,” Mo Hua said coldly, “and I’ll spare your life. Fail, and there’ll be no reason for you to keep breathing.”

Elder Ji’s face turned bitter. “Yes…”

He changed out of the prison rags, shed his chains, threw on a gray robe, and took the driver’s bench. Cracking the reins, he steered the carriage south toward Little Relay City…

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