The Quest for Immortality - Chapter 1133 (Patreon)

Chapter 1133: Little Relay City

All the way afterward, Elder Ji, who had personally killed a dozen corpse cultivators from Yin Corpse Valley, grew more and more flustered, sinking deeper into regret with every passing mile.

He hated himself for that moment of cowardice—how had he yielded to Mo Hua’s “intimidation” and actually laid hands on cultivators of the demonic powerhouse Yin Corpse Valley?

Now he had truly provoked a calamity.

But the people were already dead; regret was useless.

Elder Ji could only whip the horses harder, leaving Half-Mountain City as quickly as possible lest Yin Corpse Valley’s cultivators come seeking vengeance, praying as well that they would meet no more of those gloomy, ill-omened fiends.

Mo Hua, by contrast, looked utterly calm.

When the blood-sacrifice grand array collapsed, the demonic cultivators who died under his hand were beyond counting.

If one spoke of killing demonic cultivators, then even if Elder Ji killed without rest for a hundred years, his “record” would still be a drop in the bucket compared to Mo Hua’s.

A mere ten-odd corpse cultivators from Yin Corpse Valley today was nothing—like drinking water.

Mo Hua didn’t care in the slightest.

Besides, Elder Ji had done the killing. The primary karma wouldn’t fall on Mo Hua anyway.

The two continued south.

Afraid of being hunted by Yin Corpse Valley, Elder Ji didn’t dare slacken for a moment, and the carriage flew along the road.

After several hundred more li, they entered a barren mountain range and ran into a large band of refugees.

These refugees were itinerant cultivators driven to flee when nearby immortal cities fell to ruin.

Some, famished past reason, began to waylay the carriage.

Elder Ji truly wanted to kill a few as a warning to the rest, but for Mo Hua’s sake he held back. He delivered only a light punishment, then let them go.

Farther on, they entered deep forest.

Again and again, cultivators sprang out to attack the carriage.

These men wore prison garb and had murder written across their faces. From the look of them, they were criminal cultivators and evil cultivators escaped from the Dao Court Office. They hefted blades still wet with blood and ringed the carriage.

Mo Hua sat inside, expression indifferent.

Elder Ji gauged Mo Hua’s intent: this lot could be killed.

Happily, he had been harassed all the way and was suffused with pent-up rage. He lifted his great saber and, no longer holding back, slaughtered most of the criminal and evil cultivators.

Only a few lucky ones fled at the first sign of danger; Elder Ji couldn’t be bothered to chase. He spat, snapped the reins, and drove on.

Similar disturbances cropped up many times thereafter.

Refugees, mountain bandits, criminal cultivators, and all manner of dubious monks were mixed together like ants, fleeing in all directions across the land of Lizhou…

All the while, Mo Hua watched in silence.

He wanted to find a haven for these refugees.

But the upheaval was too vast; he had no ability yet to quell this calamity. He could only watch.

He even felt a trace of guilt.

After all, the Great Wilderness Dragon Banner—the beacon that lit the conflagration—had been raised by his own hand.

In other words, he was the “prime mover” of all this.

Yet a moment later he reconsidered. The great momentum of heaven and earth was already fixed; the treason had long been plotted by others. In the workings of fate, all of this was foreordained.

Whether he raised the banner or not, the objective facts would not change.

Mo Hua frowned slightly and let out a quiet sigh.

…

The road that followed was bumpy and perilous.

The farther south they went, the more chaotic things became.

Ruined immortal cities; refugees scattered to the winds; cultivators roving to burn, kill, and pillage; the occasional mangled corpse of a monk by the roadside…

Even Elder Ji, accustomed as he was to doing bad things, blanched.

“Damn it, the world really has changed…”

After braving the elements for over a month, the two finally reached Little Relay City thousands of li away.

Outside the city, Mo Hua lifted his gaze and was surprised.

Compared to the war-torn lands they had passed, Little Relay City was positively tranquil. It even bustled with activity, lively and crowded.

If not for all they had seen and heard—the wounds and desolation everywhere—Mo Hua would have thought the sight before him a mere illusion.

“This is really Little Relay City?”

He turned to Elder Ji and asked.

Elder Ji looked just as bewildered, as if he couldn’t believe it either. He muttered, “By the bearings, it shouldn’t be wrong… I’ve greased palms and run business through here a few times before…”

Mo Hua swept the city with his divine sense and picked up several deep, steady auras of Golden Core cultivators. He frowned. “Little Relay City is a third-grade immortal city?”

Elder Ji said, “It’s a second-grade immortal city, but in a third-grade prefecture.”

Mo Hua looked over.

Elder Ji explained, “It’s a relay city—built for transit and transfer. But it’s too remote and too poor. Few cultivators live here long-term.

“Most passersby are itinerant traders of modest means. They’re mostly in Qi Refining; Foundation Establishment is rare, let alone Golden Core.

“So, though Little Relay City lies within a third-grade provincial border, it has no Golden Core cultivators and only counts as a second-grade immortal city.”

“But now, for some reason, despite the war, there are more people than ever…”

Staring at the noisy city, Elder Ji frowned as well. Then he turned and asked, “Young Master, what do you think…?”

Mo Hua pondered a moment. “No matter. Let’s go in first.”

Elder Ji hesitated.

“Say what you want to say,” Mo Hua told him.

Elder Ji gave a sheepish smile. “Young Master, along the way I’ve driven your carriage, guided the route, and killed on your behalf. If not merit, then at least hard work.

“If we can’t find that steward later, it truly won’t be my fault; there’s nothing I can do. If it comes to that, could you… spare my life…?”

Mo Hua’s face remained unreadable.

Elder Ji’s heart thudded.

“Enter the city,” Mo Hua said.

Elder Ji could only answer “Yes,” helplessly, while praying in his heart:

“You damned turtle, Steward Wang—skim off my spirit stones, fine, I’ll let it slide, but you’d better not die on me. If you’re dead, I might have to go down with you. This ‘Little King of Hell’ kills without blinking, without even spilling blood—I don’t even know what kind of death I’d get…”

Muttering inwardly, Elder Ji drove the carriage up to Little Relay City.

The city bustled within, but the gates were shut tight.

Several Foundation Establishment body cultivators stood guard outside, blocking the road.

Naturally, Mo Hua’s carriage was stopped as well.

With Lizhou in turmoil, Little Relay City’s guard was strict; ordinary cultivators had no right to enter.

Here, Elder Ji’s identity proved useful again.

He was an elder of third-grade Gray Wolf City—no ordinary status.

His daily round of wine, women, and gambling had given him countless “friends” across many factions.

Elder Ji first produced his Gray Wolf City elder’s token, then gave the names of a few familiar Dao-friends and showed several “visiting cards.” The gate guards immediately treated him with respect.

“So it’s Elder Ji of Gray Wolf City—your reputation precedes you. We’ve been discourteous,” one Foundation Establishment cultivator said with a bow.

“No need for ceremony,” Elder Ji replied with a touch of arrogance.

“However,” that cultivator asked, puzzled, “how is it that a grand elder… is personally driving a carriage?”

Elder Ji’s face darkened, but he didn’t want to lose face. “I’m escorting a young master of noble status. Do not offend him.”

The guards stiffened.

To make a third-grade city’s elder drive personally—this young master must be extraordinary indeed.

They didn’t even inspect the carriage before waving it through.

Their job was to keep out riffraff.

As for those of high status and great cultivation, they neither needed to, nor were qualified to, check them.

Chin lifted, Elder Ji drove the carriage into Little Relay City.

The streets thronged with people, lively and crowded.

Foundation Establishment cultivators made up more than half.

In a remote second- and third-grade province of Lizhou, this was exceedingly rare.

Even the stronger third-grade Gray Wolf City had never seen so many Foundation Establishment cultivators.

Then again, in these chaotic times, a place where one could “settle down” was rare. That so many Foundation Establishment cultivators would gather here wasn’t entirely surprising.

Elder Ji parked the carriage at a fairly luxurious inn.

Then he led Mo Hua to the relay bureau in search of the steward he knew—Steward Wang.

From the inn to the bureau was about three li.

No one knew how agonizing those ordinary steps felt to Elder Ji.

He feared that when they reached the bureau and couldn’t find Steward Wang, Mo Hua would grow angry, glance at him, and he would start digging out his own heart.

The bloody scene made Elder Ji’s scalp crawl.

And of course, what one fears tends to come.

At last they reached the bureau. He found an older steward he recognized and asked after Wang, only to hear:

“Steward Wang? He resigned five years ago.”

Elder Ji’s mentality collapsed on the spot.

He seized the old man and shook him hard. “Resigned? Why would he resign for no reason?”

The old steward said, “He thought the spirit stones were too few.”

Elder Ji exploded, “Too few spirit stones? In this world, he’s the only one not making enough? Don’t we all get by the same way? He was a steward, for goodness’ sake—no sense of responsibility at all? Just quits when he wants?”

The old steward found Elder Ji’s temper baffling.

Elder Ji asked again, “Do you know where Steward Wang went?”

The old steward shook his head. “Probably some line of work that earns more spirit stones. Where exactly—how would I know?”

Elder Ji was anxious and furious.

The old steward grew nervous. “I’m old and frail, Elder—please have mercy.”

Elder Ji still couldn’t vent his anger.

Mo Hua said, “Since we can’t find him, let’s go back to the inn.”

Elder Ji didn’t dare refuse.

They returned the way they came. At the inn, Mo Hua sat at the table while Elder Ji personally brewed and poured tea, his face still full of lingering fear, afraid that one wrong word would cost him his life.

Half a day later, Mo Hua finally spoke:

“Three days.”

Elder Ji blinked.

“Three days,” Mo Hua said. “Find a lead on this Steward Wang. If you find it, there is room to maneuver. If you don’t…”

He didn’t finish. Elder Ji understood.

He was immediately grateful. “Thank you for granting a reprieve, Young Master Mo. Your great kindness, Ji will never forget.”

Elder Ji mouthed his thanks in front of Mo Hua, but once outside, realization struck.

“The one who wants to kill me… is this Mo fellow to begin with.

“He’s just postponed it three days. He doesn’t kill me for three days, and I’m supposed to be grateful?

“Damn it… I’m pathetic…”

Elder Ji seethed at himself for spinelessness and at Mo Hua for being vicious and domineering.

But anger was anger—he still had to investigate. He didn’t dare gamble with his life just to spite the “Little King of Hell.”

Three days is a short time.

Slack even a little, and those three days would become the end of his “lifespan under the sun.”

Elder Ji didn’t dare relax in the slightest.

He barely ate or drank and searched through the night.

He tapped every connection he had, walked every line he could. After two nights and a day and a half, he finally found a lead on Steward Wang.

Years ago, having made some spirit stones, Steward Wang had kept a mistress.

Elder Ji brought Mo Hua to the mistress.

She was a woman in green, seductive gaze and languid air. When Elder Ji mentioned Steward Wang, she curled her lip. “That heartless man—don’t mention him.”

“Where is he?” Elder Ji asked, impatient.

“Gone,” the woman said. “Years back, he spent spirit stones on me and kept me. Once the stones were gone and he was broke, he didn’t dare come see me again.”

Elder Ji ground his teeth. “Did he ever tell you where he went?”

She sneered. “How would I know a man’s business?”

Elder Ji was out of options.

If not for Mo Hua’s presence, he had a thousand and one ways to deal with a woman.

But with Mo Hua watching, he didn’t dare act wantonly.

Mo Hua’s gaze slid over the room, taking in the woman’s household at a glance. His eyes happened to fall on a jade pendant, and his heart stirred. “This jade pendant—was it Steward Wang’s?”

The woman’s face flickered, but under Mo Hua’s gaze she didn’t dare lie. “Yes—he gave it to me…”

Mo Hua crooked a finger; divine sense tugged, and the pendant flew into his hand.

The woman’s eyes widened. Only now did she realize the handsome youth standing behind the scar-chested brute was also a high-level Foundation Establishment cultivator.

Mo Hua rubbed the pendant, then drew out twenty spirit stones and tossed them to her.

“I’m buying this.”

She brightened at the sight of spirit stones. “Thank you, Young Master.”

“Let’s go,” Mo Hua said to Elder Ji.

Elder Ji could only follow. At the door, he halted and said, “Young Master Mo, why don’t you go on ahead? I’ll ‘work on’ this little lass properly—make her cry for life and death, and she’ll spill everything.”

Mo Hua’s eyes cooled in disgust, but knowing this was Elder Ji’s nature, he took no offense. He only shook his head.

“She doesn’t know anything.”

Elder Ji frowned. “How do you know?”

“No one can lie in front of me,” Mo Hua said blandly.

At least, below Golden Core, no one had yet escaped the penetration of his divine sense.

Elder Ji’s heart gave a jolt; his expression grew solemn. “Then…”

Mo Hua rolled the pendant between his fingers. “We already have a lead.”

Elder Ji remained baffled.

“Come with me,” Mo Hua said. Light like white threads of fate flowed in his eyes as he ran a Heavenly Mechanism calculation, peering past the veil of appearances through the pendant’s lingering karmic aura and silently deducing the current’s direction.

Ever since he had learned the Great Wilderness Demon-Bone Divination, Mo Hua’s grasp of causality had grown clearer.

His command of Heavenly Mechanism had deepened with it.

His perception of karmic currents had become far more keen.

For ordinary cultivators, he didn’t even need to use the demon-bone; given an old object as a karmic medium, a brief deduction was enough to tease out faint threads of fate.

Following the pendant’s karmic trail, Mo Hua crossed Little Relay City, left the main street, and went straight to a tall warehouse on the northwest edge of the outer city.

Mo Hua looked up, confirming that the trail ended at the warehouse.

Elder Ji didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward to knock, but the dull, strange sound died on the door. No one answered.

Elder Ji bared his teeth, qi surging through his arm. Veins corded on his fist as he prepared to smash the door down.

Just then, a cultivator stepped out from the side and barked angrily, “Which oaf dares damage my warehouse door?”

Elder Ji turned, face sour. Seeing a short, stocky cultivator, he brightened. “Steward Wang!”

Steward Wang blinked at him. “Elder Ji?” He glanced around, astonished. “You even managed to find me?”

Elder Ji threw a quick look at Mo Hua and felt again that this “Young Master Mo” possessed unfathomable means—ghostlike before, a “diviner” now.

But he didn’t dare say it. He simply seized Steward Wang’s arm. “I’ve been looking for you a long time. Come—I have a question.”

Steward Wang was nervous. “This isn’t the place to talk…” He glanced around, then beckoned. “Come with me.”

He led Elder Ji and Mo Hua to a small side room.

There were tea and wine inside, and fruit and other snacks half-eaten.

Elder Ji snorted. “Living quite the leisurely life, aren’t you?”

Steward Wang gave a wry grin. “Just scraping by.”

Elder Ji suddenly frowned. “You had a decent post at the relay bureau. Why quit and wind up here?”

Steward Wang spread his hands. “Elder Ji, you know how it is. The bureau is a dead-end job—hardly any spirit stones to be made. I spend freely. If I stayed, I’d starve…”

“And here in this warehouse—you make spirit stones?” Elder Ji asked.

Steward Wang only smiled and said nothing.

Elder Ji knew the man was greedy and crafty, fond of operating in the gray. He couldn’t be bothered to pry. “I’ll ask you one thing. Answer honestly. Ten years ago, the ‘goods’ I handed to you—where did you ship them?”

“Ten years ago?” Steward Wang grimaced. “How am I supposed to remember?”

Elder Ji’s face darkened. “The goods were sealed—a… demonic beast. Bound in chains, locked in a beast cage, the whole thing wrapped in demonhide paper. From the outside, it looked like a big crate of ‘beast hides and bones’…”

Steward Wang’s eyes lit with recognition. “I… vaguely remember…”

“Where did you send it?” Elder Ji pressed.

“That was a big shipment,” Steward Wang said. “We loaded it on a sand ship and took it through the sand sea at the Lizhou border…”

Elder Ji’s expression changed. “Through the sand sea—that means it crossed the border of Lizhou and went to the Great Wilderness?”

Steward Wang nodded. “Should be…”

“Where in the Great Wilderness?”

“That was too long ago,” Steward Wang said, troubled. “I can’t remember everything. We’d have to find a way to check the old records at the bureau.”

“Then go check,” Elder Ji said.

Steward Wang pulled a face. “I resigned. How am I supposed to get in and check?”

Elder Ji’s patience snapped. He snarled, “What do I care? I don’t care what means you use—go check. If you find it, all is well. If you don’t—if I die, you won’t be living either.”

Steward Wang went pale. “I… I’ll think of something…”

“Don’t try to play tricks,” Elder Ji growled. “My head’s hanging from my belt right now. So is yours.”

Steward Wang could only give a bitter smile.

Over the next few days, Mo Hua saw to it that Elder Ji had a few nightmares, shifting the pressure squarely onto him.

Elder Ji, in turn, shifted it onto Steward Wang.

Steward Wang did not disappoint. He burned the candle at both ends, and in just four days, he traced the fate of that shipment…

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