Quest for Immortality (Patreon)

Chapter 1: Mo Hua

Year 20,022 DC (Dao Calendar), ninth month, tenth day.

Tongxian City, outside the mountain pass to Tongxian Sect.

Ten-year-old Mo Hua crouched behind a massive rock at the foot of the mountain, clad in plain outer disciple robes, nibbling on the roots of grass as he painstakingly drew intricate patterns on the ground with his head lowered.

By the time it was four o'clock in the morning, disciples seeking instruction trickled up the mountain in twos and threes, chatting and laughing along the way.

A little porker dressed in the standard Outer Sect cultivator's robes, complete with expensive jade accessories, accompanied by three attendants, found Mo Hua, who had been happily occupied drawing something behind the rock, all alone.

The little porker looked left and right, checking for instructors, before finally poking out his neck and calling out, "Mo Hua!"

Mo Hua lifted his head, revealing a small face that was every bit as elegant as a painting, eyes clear like water.

The little porker lowered his voice. "Did you do what I asked?"

Ten-year-old Mo Hua patted his chest like a miniature adult. "Leave it to me; don't worry." He then produced several spell formations from his bag of holding, white paper covered in red ink, which he handed to the little porker. "Take a look and see if there's anything amiss."

The little porker solemnly accepted them, flipped through the copies, gave them a careful glance, then frowned. "I don't understand..."

Mo Hua patiently explained.

"The instructor assigned homework to draw the basic spell formations of the five elements, so I've drawn them for you, and even intentionally drew six wrong ones to prevent the instructor from noticing that these weren't your own drawings..."

"Six...isn't that drawing too many mistakes?"

Mo Hua silently looked at him.

The little porker promptly recognized his mistake and reflected on it. "One must not be too greedy. It's good enough to turn in the assignments given by the instructors. If they're done too well, it'll invite suspicion; if the instructor notices and tells my dad, he'll beat me no matter what. Not worth it, not worth it..."

Mo Hua nodded. "As expected of Young Master An, you understood quickly!"

The little porker stuffed two spirit stones into Mo Hua's hands. "Mo Hua, your taste is truly impeccable—you know how smart I am! Here are the spirit stones as payment, and next time the instructor assigns us spell formation homework, I'll come back to you for help!"

With that, he tucked the spell formation diagrams under his arm and darted off up the mountain like a puff of smoke.

Mo Hua carefully stored the two spirit stones, then plucked another root and began drawing once more on the ground.

A moment later, a gaunt young master with a harsh expression and numerous jade pendants appeared, waving a folding fan adorned with gold leaf paper. He took one look at the spell formation Mo Hua had drawn and gave a meaningful glance to his attendant, who stepped forward, accepting the drawing and handing over two spirit stones to Mo Hua.

The young master took the spell formation diagrams but made no move to leave. He suddenly tucked away his paper fan and said loftily, "This young master is quite proficient with spell formations as well, it's just that I lack the time to draw these basic arrays, which is why I must trouble you to do so."

Mo Hua paid him no mind, picking up another root to continue drawing.

Looking somewhat vexed, the young master sneered again. "I've heard that among Tongxian Sect's Qi Condensation stage cultivators, your spell formation drawings are the best. How do you compare to this young master? Perhaps we could spar sometime?"

‘If you're asking me to help you cheat on your spell formation homework, do you really think you are on my level?’

Nevertheless, Mo Hua followed the principle of harmony breeds prosperity and lifted his head, choosing his words carefully. "Naturally, your understanding of spell formations far surpasses mine; the Qian Clan is Tongxian City's largest clan, after all. Spell formation inheritance from the Qian Clan cannot be surpassed by other cultivators."

The young master's expression cleared slightly. "Then tell me, who among Tongxian Sect's Qi Condensation stage cultivators has spell formation skills comparable to mine?" he asked.

"There are some..."

The young master was displeased. "Name them."

‘I’m at least three times better than you.’ Mo Hua naturally didn't foolishly say such things aloud.

"A little too many to count," he added hastily.

The young master was clearly angry now.

"This is good!" Mo Hua replied innocently, though he had spoken utter nonsense.

The thin young master sneered. "Your family's history isn't better than mine, your spirit stones aren't more plentiful, and your spell formations exceed me. There are many people like this; are you trying to say that my innate talent is inferior, that I'm no match for others? What makes you think this is good?"

"Even if a cultivator from Tongxian City were blessed with exceptional talent and diligently studied all their life, wouldn't they still have to enter Qian Clan's Wanbao Pavilion upon completion of their training to refine weapons, concoct medicine, and draw spell formations for your Clan?" Mo Hua asked.

"Think about it," he continued. "Even as someone who has only reached Qi Condensation, you can command the services of Foundation Establishment cultivators. Even as a mere tier-one spell formation master, you can order around tier-two spell formation masters—that’s impressive! The strength of one's subordinates' abilities serves to highlight the extent of one's own accomplishments!"

The thin young master was stunned, then quickly came to a realization. 

‘That does make sense, doesn't it?’

"I see." He nodded, looking up at the numerous cultivators below, his neck arched even higher. "Indeed! Indeed! No matter how gifted or diligent you may be, ultimately don't you all end up serving my Qian Clan like a slave?"

After saying this, the Qian Clan young master strutted away, his chest puffed out proudly.

Once Mo Hua had successfully deceived the Qian Clan's young master, he returned to drawing on the ground with the roots of grass. 

Soon after, another group of wealthy cultivators arrived, exchanging money for goods, purchasing several sets of spell formations from Mo Hua with spirit stones. By the time Mo Hua finished selling his hand-drawn spell formations, he held twelve spirit stones in his possession.

Having twelve spirit stones might seem a lot, but it was still far short of what was needed for a cultivator to continue their cultivation.

Mo Hua sighed, his young face bearing a hint of helplessness.

For low-level cultivators like him, there seemed to be no hope for cultivation...

In the first year of the Dao calendar, some twenty thousand years ago, the most powerful force within the cultivation realm—the Dao Court—unified the nine provinces under its rule and bestowed titles upon noble families and sects, establishing a standardized ranking system that delineated the hierarchy of the various types of cultivators.

The Dao Court also enacted the Dao Law, which governed cultivators by forbidding them from indiscriminately killing, stealing, or extracting spiritual energy from living beings without permission.

This edict allowed the cultivation world to flourish for more than two decades, reaching unprecedented heights of prosperity and expanding far and wide, until tens of millions of cultivators roamed the land.

Yet amidst the grandeur of the Dao Court, the splendor of noble families, and the might of mighty sects, the vast majority of low-level cultivators had no affiliation, lived in poverty, and saw no hope for their cultivation.

Over the course of more than two decades, the cultivators of the cultivation world have produced countless descendants. Those born without spiritual roots gradually fell out of favor with nature, while those remaining possessed the requisite spiritual roots to cultivate as cultivators. Yet as the number of cultivators increased, so too did their consumption of spiritual energy, until eventually, the entire cosmos was depleted of spiritual power.

Now, if a cultivator wished to pursue cultivation, they needed both inheritance and spirit stones.

However, great clans monopolized the extraction of spiritual minerals, leaving low-level cultivators destitute. Meanwhile, major sects controlled access to inheritance knowledge, denying ordinary, unaffiliated cultivators the means to cultivate at all.

In Tongxian City, most wandering cultivators lacked both inheritance and spirit stones, and thus remained Qi Condensation cultivators for their entire lives.

Qi Condensation was but a lowly ant beneath the vast Heaven's Will.

And Mo Hua was one of these billions of ants.

Perhaps for his entire life!

A hint of bitterness marred Mo Hua's tender features.

Theoretically, the Dao might be equal to all, but when it came to cultivating, there could be no such thing as equality...

Mo Hua was a wandering cultivator at the second level of Qi Condensation, born from a family of Qi Condensation cultivators; both his parents were also Qi Condensation cultivators.

His father, Mo Shan, hunted monsters for a living, spending every day locked in fierce battles with beasts that left him covered in scars. His mother worked as a kitchen assistant at a restaurant, enduring the heat of the stove and suffering frequent bouts of coughing due to her weakened lungs.

Despite their meager earnings, Mo Shan and his wife scrimped and saved all their lives so that Mo Hua could enter Tongxian Sect's Outer Sect for cultivation training.

But no matter how much Mo Hua trained, his mediocre spiritual roots, though slightly better than average, would still only make him an ordinary member of the cultivation world, which are teeming with prodigies.

No matter how diligently he cultivated, he may never surpass the Qi Condensation stage.

Given his family's difficult circumstances and lack of spirit stones, Mo Hua could only cultivate like any other disciple until he reached the sixth level of Qi Condensation, at which point he would have to leave the sect and find some trade or craft with which to support himself.

But Mo Hua was also born with a weak body constitution!

The artificing, monster-hunting trades that provided livelihoods for cultivators in the early stages of cultivation required robust physique. A naturally frail Mo Hua might not even be able to find menial work sufficient to sustain him.

If he were to take a wife and have children in the future, his burdens would increase, and all his spirit stones would go toward supporting his household.

Without spirit stones to cultivate with, Mo Hua's cultivation would stagnate forever, leaving him stuck as a Qi Condensation cultivator for life—just like every poor, wandering cultivator in Tongxian City, just like every low-level cultivator in the entire vast cultivation world, destined to spend their lives merely cultivating to the Qi Condensation stage.

Ten-year-old Mo Hua sighed, readjusted his mindset, and went to class within the sect. After cultivating all day, Mo Hua returned to the disciples' quarters, where he studied cultivation manuals for a while longer before lying down to sleep by midnight.

As soon as Mo Hua closed his eyes, a broken stele appeared within his sea of consciousness.

There were no words carved upon it, but from the moment Mo Hua laid eyes on it, he knew its name: Dao Stele!