Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 685 – Entering the Dream

Mo Hua hadn't gone for the kill. He'd used only low-tier spells—not lethal ones—so although the Wang Clan cultivators looked absolutely miserable, they were still breathing.

Inside the rundown little courtyard,

The Wang cultivators lay sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain. All their previous arrogance had vanished; none of them even dared lift their heads to look at Mo Hua.

Mo Hua snorted coldly, his tone arrogant:

"Today this young master's in a good mood—I'll spare your worthless lives.

But if I see you again, I'll cripple your arms and legs with magic and toss you in the river to feed the turtles!"

He wore the full facade of an entitled young master, his swagger sky-high. The Wang cultivators, cowed by his power, didn't dare speak.

After finishing, Mo Hua turned and shot Old Yu a cold glance, raising his voice:

"Old Yu! I've taken a liking to this fish!"

"From now on, all your fish—all of them—belong to me!

If I ever hear you sold my fish to someone else…"

Mo Hua's small face curved into a wicked grin.

"…then don't expect to live a peaceful life again!"

Old Yu stood there frozen for a moment before catching on. He quickly put on a frightened act and stammered:

"Y-Yes, young master! I wouldn't dare! Please don't kill me, I've got a whole family depending on me hauling fish just to survive…"

Seeing how "obedient" Old Yu was, Mo Hua finally nodded in satisfaction.

Then he put on a stern face again and cast a scornful glare at Steward Wang:

"What? Still not rolling? Planning to die here?"

Steward Wang's face twisted in hatred. He gritted his teeth and said:

"May I at least know the young master's—"

But before he could finish, Mo Hua flicked his finger.

A golden blade of light sliced through the air, instantly slashing across Steward Wang's cheek and drawing a line of blood.

Mo Hua's expression was cold, his eyes deep as the abyss:

"Know what? You think you're worthy?"

Steward Wang clutched his face, sweat pouring down his forehead.

A chilling, oppressive divine sense locked onto him. He could barely breathe.

He realized this arrogant "young master" was already losing his patience.

That golden blade had only grazed his face.

Next time… it'd be coming for his head.

Steward Wang immediately kowtowed:

"Please calm your anger, young master! We were blind and didn't recognize greatness! We'll leave right away!"

He didn't even call for the others. He scrambled up in a panic and fled like a whipped dog.

The other Wang cultivators followed, crawling and limping after him, covered in dirt and shame.

The courtyard finally quieted down.

Only when they were far away did Mo Hua step forward and help Old Yu up.

Old Yu's eyes were wet with emotion. He dropped to his knees and bowed deeply.

"Thank you, young master. Thank you, thank you…"

Mo Hua helped him up and asked:

"Does the Wang Clan often bully you?"

Old Yu sighed.

"It's not even about bullying anymore.

They force us to sell, we're used to it…"

"They used to take fish on credit, say they'd pay later."

"We'd give them the fish, then go to collect payment, and they'd stall—say their clan's finances were tight, that they couldn't spare the spirit stones…"

"All while living in mansions, eating rare delicacies, wearing silk and brocade…

But somehow, they just can't pay poor folks like us a handful of spirit stones…"

"Sometimes they even refuse to pay at all. Take the fish, never give a single stone.

Doesn't happen every time, but…"

Old Yu's face darkened.

"But I can't afford to gamble.

If they decide not to pay, my 8,000 spirit stones… it's all gone. I'd never get it back."

"Even if they just stall—I can't afford delays."

"My two grandsons have decent spiritual roots. If they want to join a sect, it has to be now. They need foundation-reinforcing medicine, connections to get in, and entrance fees…"

"All of that costs a lot of spirit stones.

Wait too long, and their whole future's ruined."

Old Yu's eyes turned hollow.

"And then they'll be stuck like me…

Fishing for scraps their whole life."

Mo Hua sighed quietly.

"Give me the fish."

He thought for a moment, then said to Old Yu.

Startled, Old Yu instinctively clutched the fish basket tighter.

Mo Hua said helplessly,

"I'll pay you."

He pulled out a few storage pouches and handed them over.

Inside was a total of 8,000 spirit stones.

Old Yu held the pouches with trembling hands, stunned. He couldn't believe it. After a while, his eyes turned red and he choked out:

"…Okay."

Mo Hua reminded him:

"Keep them safe. Don't let anyone see, or they might try to rob you."

That finally brought Old Yu back to his senses. He tied the pouches tightly to his waist and covered them with his rough old robe.

But the sudden windfall made him uneasy. He clearly didn't feel safe. After a bit more thought, he tied another cloth over it and added an extra layer of clothing.

Mo Hua felt a mix of amusement and heartache.

"Later I'll hire a cart. You load the basket onto it, and I'll take the fish away in public.

If not, the Wang Clan might come back for trouble."

"Mm."

Old Yu nodded, then looked at Mo Hua—still young, but with such a kind heart—and wiped away a tear.

He felt guilty for accepting such a huge favor with nothing to offer in return.

After thinking it over, he walked to the corner and scooped out a few more spirit fish from a tank.

They were silver-scaled, not as rare as the golden three-colored carp, but their luster was vibrant, their silver scales neatly arranged—clearly fine quality.

Old Yu placed the silver-scaled fish into the basket with the three-colored carp and said gratefully:

"These are Silver-Scale Whitefish.

Not as expensive as the golden carp, but the meat is excellent, the flavor rich.

Just a little gift from me to you."

"Thank you, Grandpa Yu."

Mo Hua smiled.

Then, curious, he peeked back into the fish tank.

Inside were more fish of different breeds, all with unique appearances, swimming leisurely about.

They looked nice, but compared to the golden and silver fish he now owned, they seemed a bit dull.

He nodded and started to look away—

When something caught his eye.

Next to the large tank was a small fish tank.

Inside… were more fish, kept separate.

The lid was sealed tight, leaving only a tiny gap for air. The inside was pitch-black—nothing could be seen clearly. But occasionally, a flicker of red flashed through.

Old Yu saw him looking and quickly put on a forced smile:

"Young master, all the fish are in the basket already!"

Mo Hua pointed at the small tank:

"What kind of fish are in there?"

Old Yu replied quickly:

"Just a few Chishui Carp.

They're sensitive to light, so I keep them sealed with just a little gap to breathe."

"Chishui Carp?"

Mo Hua paused in mild surprise. He released his spiritual sense and scanned the tank. Sure enough, there were a few fish inside. Their auras were faintly red, and aside from that, there didn't seem to be anything unusual.

He nodded and didn't ask further.

Old Yu then went off to find someone to hire a carriage for Mo Hua.

After that, Mo Hua strutted in front, head held high, while Old Yu trailed behind with a worried frown, lugging the fish basket.

To an outsider, it looked exactly like Mo Hua had bullied the old man into giving up his fish for free.

Once they left the small fishing village and reached the roadside, Mo Hua hopped onto the carriage first.

Old Yu loaded the fish basket and, after confirming no one was around, gave Mo Hua a respectful bow.

"Young master, this old man is forever in your debt…"

Mo Hua waved his hand casually and said, "Go home," then rode off in the carriage toward the Ganxue Prefecture border.

Guo Jianglong had vanished after entering the fishing village and hadn't shown up again, but Mo Hua no longer had the time to keep watch.

He had to return.

The two-day break was over—classes resumed tomorrow.

Priorities had to be clear.

For now, cultivation in the sect still came first.

Still, even if he lost Guo Jianglong's trail, at least the man had unknowingly led him to his hideout.

Fishing required patience.

He'd let it go this time. He'd pick up the scent again during the next rest break.

The carriage rolled on, past glittering rivers and verdant hills, slowly leaving the poor fishing village behind.

Yet the bitter scenes of poverty within the village, Old Yu's weary, numb words, continued to linger in Mo Hua's heart.

His emotions were complicated.

He glanced back at the little fishing village, now hidden beneath a veil of green mountains and flowing waters, his gaze deep and unreadable.

Perhaps this was…

…the "soil" from which evil gods grow.

——

The carriage journeyed all the way to Qingzhou City.

Mo Hua planned to gift the Golden Lotus Three-Colored Carp to Aunt Wan.

Aunt Wan had taken care of him on countless occasions—inviting him to hearty meals, giving him all sorts of things. Mo Hua felt it was time to return the favor.

Along the way, although the roads seemed peaceful, Mo Hua noticed several cultivators secretly watching him.

A brief sweep of his divine sense confirmed: they were from the Wang family.

Mo Hua pretended not to notice and rode the carriage straight through the Gu family gates with pomp and flair.

That should be enough to tell those lackeys: he really did have the Gu family as his "backing." He was not someone they could afford to provoke.

At the Gu residence, when Wenren Wan heard that Mo Hua had brought her a live Golden Lotus Three-Colored Carp, she was overjoyed.

When she saw the fish herself—its golden body layered in shimmering hues, its lotus-like scales—she was even more amazed.

Though the Gu family was a prestigious clan and regularly enjoyed fine meals, rare seasonal delicacies like this were not always easy to come by.

Even if they managed to get one, it usually required no small amount of effort.

Aunt Wan immediately ordered the carp to be stewed and served to nourish both Mo Hua and Yu'er.

The fish meat was fresh and delicious, the broth rich and golden. Mo Hua ate with great gusto.

In the end, more than half the fish ended up in the bellies of Mo Hua and Yu'er.

Later that evening, under cover of night, Aunt Wan sent them both back to the Great Void Sect via a Gu family carriage.

The next day, classes and cultivation resumed as usual.

Everything should have returned to normal…

But Mo Hua couldn't shake the feeling that something was off with his divine sense.

He felt unusually tired, often dazed and unfocused.

He calmed himself, meditated, and looked inward—but his sea of consciousness was clear, his divine sense full. Nothing seemed wrong.

Mo Hua didn't understand. He just chalked it up to exhaustion from running around.

That night, back at the disciples' quarters—

Mo Hua messaged Gu Changhuai, reporting Guo Jianglong's trail, where he'd surfaced, and how he had vanished again inside the fishing village.

He also suggested Gu Changhuai send someone to watch the area—but not enter the village, to avoid alerting the target.

Gu Changhuai agreed.

With that done, Mo Hua returned to studying formation arts for a while.

Just before midnight, he closed his formation book and was about to enter his sea of consciousness to practice the new formations at the Dao Stele.

But suddenly, a heavy drowsiness washed over him.

His eyelids turned to lead, and he slowly slumped over his desk, falling into a deep sleep.

Mo Hua… had a rare dream.

In the dream, he was surrounded by mist. The haze cleared to reveal a shimmering river.

Mo Hua realized he was fully grown now—tall and strong, wearing rough work clothes. His sun-darkened arms were exposed, bronzed from long days outside.

He was standing on a boat drifting on the river, gripping a fishing net full of fish.

He had become…

…a fisherman cultivator?

Mo Hua was startled at first, but the dream quickly settled into his mind, and he accepted it without much thought.

Before long, he finished fishing. Then someone beside him said:

"You're not getting any younger. Time to settle down. Life's hard—you should find someone to share the burden…"

Mo Hua felt a bit reluctant inside.

But in the blink of an eye, fog rolled in again.

Next thing he knew—he had already finished the wedding ceremony.

Across from him stood a woman in red bridal robes, her face covered by a veil. She felt both familiar and unfamiliar.

Was this… his bride?

"Bride?"

Mo Hua froze for a second, then lifted the veil—only to discover that the bride was actually his Little Senior Sister!

Her expression was calm, but her cheeks were flushed, like the rosy glow of dawn.

Mo Hua couldn't help but grin foolishly.

But before he could finish smiling…

He realized he was dead.

Died while fishing on the river.

A huge wave capsized the boat, and he was torn apart by a water demon.

His always-cool and aloof senior sister clutched his corpse, weeping her heart out.

Before Mo Hua could even feel sad, he realized—

He was alive again.

This time, he and his senior sister were childhood sweethearts.

The young master of the Wang family had taken a fancy to the beautiful senior sister and wanted to snatch her away.

Mo Hua was furious and beat up all the Wang family cultivators.

But after beating the lackeys, the real heavy-hitters showed up. Mo Hua couldn't win and was forced to elope with his senior sister.

It was a stormy night.

He tightly held her hand and fled along the Yanshui River.

But in the end, they couldn't escape. Trapped with nowhere to run, the two embraced one last time and threw themselves into the river, dying for love…

Then the scene shifted again—suddenly it was another life.

Now, he and his senior sister had a child.

But life was bitter and hard.

Her once-fair and stunning face was now worn with exhaustion.

She scolded him constantly, blaming him for being poor and urging him to earn more spirit stones for the family.

But despite her complaints, she still sewed his clothes, cooked for their child, and never once abandoned him.

Eventually, a storm hit and made fishing impossible.

The entire family… starved to death.

As she lay dying beside him, she tightly gripped his hand. In her eyes—bitterness and sorrow… but also tenderness and love.

Mo Hua's heart felt like it was being torn apart.

He couldn't breathe.

In the midst of the haze, someone seemed to be whispering a prayer beside his ear:

"My life is too bitter… I can't go on anymore…"

"Please save us…"

"I beg of you…"

"Please…"

"O River God who rules over the Yanshui…"

River… 'God'?!

The moment those two words reached his ears, Mo Hua suddenly jolted awake, eyes snapping open.

Tears lingered at the corners of his eyes, but his gaze turned ice cold.

"You dare invade my dream too?"

In the next instant, Mo Hua's divine sense plunged into his sea of consciousness as he began to calmly meditate.

At the same time, threads of pale golden bloodlight emerged from within him, gathering in his eyes.

In the depths of his gaze, a divine, majestic golden light began to shine.

Under this divine sight, the once-empty sea of consciousness suddenly became clearer.

Mo Hua's golden-lit eyes swept across, and only now did he see—in one corner of his sea of consciousness—several tiny blood-colored fish had somehow appeared.

Among them was one especially grotesque creature:

A blood-red fish demon—sharp-toothed, vicious-eyed, its fins mutated into legs as it stood upright like some hideous nightmare.

When the fish demon saw Mo Hua, it bared its fangs and let out a high-pitched, gleeful cackle.

But halfway through laughing, it noticed the thick, sacred golden light emanating from Mo Hua—and its eyes instantly filled with terror.

Mo Hua's face remained expressionless.

He simply reached out, pinched its neck, and with a flash of golden light from his palm—crushed it to death.

The fish demon's body dissolved into a pool of blood-colored river water, thick with the stench of fish and evil.

Mo Hua could sense from the residue a trace of some wicked, divine aura.

It was like divine sense that had been tainted by an evil god.

But it contained no divine essence, and the amount of divine sense itself was pitifully small—not even worth harvesting.

With a flick of his finger, Mo Hua summoned a Groundfire Array, incinerating the blood-red river water and the remaining demonic fish completely—leaving no trace behind.

Once he finished purging the corruption, Mo Hua exited his sea of consciousness.

Back in the real world, Mo Hua opened his eyes—but his brows were tightly furrowed.

So this…

…was one of the evil god's tricks?

Just when, exactly… had he been infected?

(End of this Chapter)