Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 687 – Divine Path

Old Yu was silent for a moment, then slowly spoke:

"This method is called the 'River Sacrifice Calamity-Dissolving Method.'

It was taught to me by a passing fishing cultivator…"

"That day, I was fishing in the river when— my boat suddenly capsized. I'm not sure why…

Maybe I struck a reef at the bottom, or maybe I ran into a water demon's sharp fin…"

"I've heard countless stories in my life of fishing cultivators drowning after their boats sank."

"In a panic, I started swimming desperately for shore. But halfway there, a water demon targeted me…"

"Just when I thought I was going to die in the Yan River, a passing fishing cultivator injured the water demon, dragged me along, and forced his way to shore."

"That's how I managed to survive…"

Old Yu sighed, still visibly shaken by the memory.

Mo Hua's gaze sharpened.

He asked, "What did that cultivator look like?"

Old Yu thought a bit.

"He was the type that often entered the water—excellent swimmer.

Skin pale as a river fish, very light eyebrows, looked a bit odd…

But the more you looked at him, the more kind and benevolent he seemed."

Mo Hua's expression darkened slightly.

Guojianglong… ("River-Crossing Dragon," suspected cultist)

"And then?" he asked.

"Then…" Old Yu hesitated. "I was deeply grateful and offered to repay him.

But he waved it off, said something like,

'We all make a living from the river—when someone's in trouble, we help. It's nothing.'"

"A good man…" Old Yu sighed.

"Then I invited him to drink. It was cheap wine, but he didn't mind."

"We had a few rounds. Got to talking.

He told me he had no parents, no children, lived alone."

"I said the opposite—

I had a big family, but we were all doomed to hard lives. No future."

"My two grandsons had decent spiritual roots, but I didn't have any spirit stones to support their cultivation."

"I'm a useless grandfather… I ruined their future."

At this, Old Yu looked ashamed and shook his head before continuing:

"That fishing cultivator seemed to want to say something.

He hesitated but held back, just kept drinking."

"But I noticed. I told him—'Say it if you've got something to say. Don't hold back.'"

"He just shook his head. I pressed him a few more times, and finally, he sighed and told me about the 'River Sacrifice' method."

"He said he'd only heard it from some old cultivators—wasn't even sure if it worked."

"He told me there's a kind of blood-colored fish that must be raised with sincere devotion and one's own blood.

When its mouth splits open and fins become human-like limbs, you throw it into a well as an offering to the River God."

"If the River God is pleased, your wishes may come true."

"I thought it was strange.

Why use blood? Why sincere devotion?

If you're offering to the River God, shouldn't it be thrown into the river, not a well?"

Mo Hua asked, "What did the man say?"

Old Yu frowned.

"He said he didn't know. That's just how the old method works. Not a single step can be changed."

"He said—if it's for the River God, then this must be how the River God wants it.

We human cultivators wouldn't understand."

"I hesitated."

"He asked if I wanted to try.

Said not everyone who used this method would be blessed—but it was worth a shot."

"If I wanted to try, he'd get me the blood fish as a favor—no need for spirit stones.

Just buy him a few drinks."

"Spirit stones are precious.

But cheap wine? That's nothing."

"I figured—it's worth trying. Even if it didn't work, I'd only lose a bit of wine money."

"Besides, this man saved my life.

Why would he try to hurt me now?"

"He told me all this out of kindness, for my own good…"

Mo Hua listened, brows tightly furrowed.

Old Yu, unaware of the hidden truth, just sighed and looked at Mo Hua.

"Young master… you know the rest."

He looked emotional:

"I followed his instructions. I received the River God's blessing.

I caught a Tricolor Carp and sold it for eight thousand spirit stones.

My grandsons now have a future…"

Then, his expression suddenly twisted in fear:

"But this must never be revealed!

If it leaks, the River God will punish me—everything I gained will be lost."

He looked at Mo Hua with pleading eyes:

"Young master, I beg you…

Please pretend you saw nothing…"

Mo Hua's expression grew complicated. He thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Alright. I won't tell anyone."

He had no intention of trying to convince Old Yu that the whole thing was a lie— that the so-called River Sacrifice was fake, and the "River God" he worshiped was likely an evil god.

But people who cling to blind faith can't be reasoned with.

Even if you explained it all, they wouldn't listen.

Mo Hua didn't waste the effort. He simply said:

"I won't tell anyone.

But you can't raise any more of those fish— and you must stop using the well to make offerings."

Old Yu looked conflicted.

Mo Hua gave him a reason he could understand:

"Greed will bring the River God's wrath."

"You've already received enough blessings.

If you keep making sacrifices to get more, you might anger the River God and bring disaster."

As expected, Old Yu was horrified. He nodded rapidly:

"Yes, yes! Young master is right!"

"Can't be greedy. I've been lucky enough already.

If I keep pushing, something bad will happen."

Mo Hua nodded.

Old Yu let out a long breath and bowed deeply:

"Thank you for the warning, young master."

Mo Hua gave a small nod.

"Alright, I'm leaving now. Just pretend I was never here."

With that, he turned and left—neatly, cleanly.

Old Yu stood there in a daze.

He finally began to wonder—why had this young master appeared in the village so late at night?

What exactly had he come here to do?

He couldn't figure it out…

But then he thought, maybe it was the River God's will.

Maybe it was the River God who sent this young man to chase off the Wang family cultivators, buy his fish, fulfill his wish, and help his grandsons join a sect.

And now—perhaps it was also the River God sending this young man to warn him: "Don't be greedy."

Old Yu nodded solemnly. He glanced at the well, hoisted his fish tank, and left.

After Old Yu left, silence returned to the area around the well.

A moment later, a small figure shimmered into view—it was Mo Hua.

He had only pretended to leave. Now he was back, quietly concealed, standing before the well.

He had seen this well during the day but hadn't thought much of it.

Now he realized—this was where the mystery lay.

Mo Hua leaned over the well and peered inside.

It was pitch black.

He released his divine sense and probed downward.

Soon, he detected water—and in it, several faintly visible blood-colored fish.

But deeper still… there was only murky, chaotic darkness. His divine sense couldn't perceive anything.

"Is the evil god hiding inside this well water?"

"How, exactly?"

"Dwelling in flesh? Hiding a statue? Built an altar down there?"

"But something's off…"

Mo Hua frowned.

If the evil god were really resting at the bottom of the well, then the whole village would already be completely corrupted. Why bother tricking Old Yu into raising fish to spread this 'plague-like' evil will?

"And if the evil god was right there… I should've sensed it long ago."

His eyes flashed black and white as he activated Inferential Calculation and Divine Foresight—

gazing deep into the well.

Indeed, he saw traces of blood mist—but they were faint.

Far weaker than the thick, crimson mist he saw that day when tailing Guojianglong into the village…

"This... is impossible."

And based on Mo Hua's understanding of creatures born of corrupt will—

If an evil god, or even a fragment of its divine corpse, were truly slumbering at the bottom of the well…

It would've already burst out cackling "jié jié" with mad laughter, trying to devour him by now.

"Where exactly is the evil god hiding?"

"And what's the true secret behind this well?"

Mo Hua frowned deeply, thinking for a long time, but still had no leads. He couldn't help sighing.

His divine sense... was starving.

Nothing left to "feed" it...

He glanced again at the well—

like a hungry child craving "fish soup," the urge itched in his mind:

"Should I… just jump in and take a look?"

But the very moment the thought emerged, Mo Hua immediately suppressed it.

Sure, his divine sense was strong—

but his physical body was still quite weak.

If he went alone into the well and encountered something malicious—

Even if it were an evil god, he might still survive a few rounds.

But if it were some ferocious water beast,

he could get killed in the blink of an eye.

Not worth the risk.

Yet Mo Hua's curiosity about the well's bottom only intensified.

He frowned, pondering hard, until suddenly his eyes lit up.

Right! He had a "little toy."

Mo Hua quickly opened his storage pouch and pulled out… a tiny tiger puppet.

This was a puppet construct, hand-carved for him by Master Puppet.

Mo Hua had even inscribed a Spirit Core Array inside,

allowing him to remotely control it via divine sense.

The little tiger had a chunky tiger-head and stubby limbs—adorably fierce.

Mo Hua looked at it, nostalgic.

Ever since entering the Ganxue Prefecture, he hadn't used these "little tigers" much.

But now that he needed to scout the bottom of a well—perfect time to give it a go.

There was one problem:

The tiger was wooden. It floated.

Mo Hua thought a bit, then tied some iron blocks to it and tossed it into the well.

"Plop."

The little tiger hit the water and began sinking slowly, weighted by the iron.

The bottom of the well was dim and murky—divine sense couldn't clearly sense it.

The tiger couldn't swim either.

So Mo Hua guided it carefully with his divine sense, paddling its little limbs, nudging it along the bottom.

He didn't need it to explore in detail—

just to confirm whether or not there was danger.

The tiger scuffled around for a while, inching forward.

Suddenly, its body shuddered—something had bumped into it.

Mo Hua's heart tensed.

Then came a dull but intense swishing from below the water.

As if a school of fish had become enraged, thrashing madly.

Moments later—

Mo Hua felt his little tiger being swallowed whole, and its presence abruptly vanished.

He froze—

then let out a long breath in relief.

"Good thing I didn't jump in…"

Still—

His little tiger… was gone…

Mo Hua couldn't help feeling a little sad.

"What exactly was down there… that swallowed my tiger?"

He furrowed his brows—

and suddenly remembered the dream he'd had that night:

That blood-colored fish demon, formed from the evil god's will.

It had vicious eyes, sharp fangs, walked upright with transformed fins as legs…

A guess began to form in Mo Hua's mind.

These blood-colored fish, thrown into the well, were likely being used to nurture a Gu.

They were absorbing blood and willpower, and in the depths, devouring one another,

until a single, powerful fish demon would emerge—lurking in the deep well.

That fish demon… was the vessel of the evil god's corruption.

It wasn't strong yet.

But if it kept being fed—

consuming more and growing stronger—

this entire well would eventually become a source of corruption,

polluting its surroundings through the water.

And the entire fishing village would become a breeding ground for the evil god's influence.

Mo Hua felt a heaviness settle in his chest… and yet, he still had questions.

"If that's the case, then this well is merely the medium for the evil god's sermon—not the source itself."

"Those fish… can't be the evil god."

"So where… is the evil god's true body?"

Mo Hua imagined himself in the enemy's shoes.

"If I were a 'junior evil god,' or a devoted 'divine servant' spreading its doctrine…

there's no way I'd put all my eggs in one basket."

Meaning—

"The medium for spreading doctrine" and

"the source of the evil god's power" would never be placed in the same well.

The evil god's true body must be hidden, secret, never to be disturbed or defiled.

The medium, though also secret, needed to spread widely—like the well's water—corrupting believers.

The two must be linked—

but not identical.

"In that case… there's definitely something wrong with this well."

"The evil god's secret is likely hidden here—

because in the entire ten-li radius, this is the only place with signs of its presence."

"But what's the secret?

Where is it hidden?

How is it hidden?"

Mo Hua scratched his head, completely stumped.

"I can't go to the bottom—too dangerous.

But outside the well…"

He circled the well once more, but still found no clues.

Not a single trace.

He sighed inwardly.

"These evil god rituals really are full of treachery and mystery…"

But Mo Hua was unwilling to give up.

He searched the area around the well again, top to bottom.

Yet all the way until dawn broke in the east—still, nothing.

He could only sigh in frustration and temporarily give up.

He concealed himself again and quietly left the well.

Then he returned to the familiar old tree at the edge of the village.

Climbed up to a sturdy branch— and resumed his silent watch 

"I refuse to believe I can't catch you slipping…"

He sat cross-legged, sulking just a little.

Morning sun rose.

The fishing village carried on like always.

Mo Hua watched.

From morning until noon—he watched.

And soon, he saw each household raise cooking smoke—drinking fish soup.

His expression grew conflicted.

These fish soups… must not be consumed.

The more they drank, the deeper their corruption by the evil god.

But for now, Mo Hua had no way to stop it.

He couldn't alert the village—couldn't startle the snake in the grass.

All he could do was trace the evil god to its source and find a solution from the root.

Mo Hua sighed.

Just as he exhaled, something at the corner of his eye made him freeze.

He had spotted someone familiar…

A man with a full beard, knotted muscles, and dark skin—

looked like a weathered veteran of the river.

—It was Crossing Dragon, in disguise!

Mo Hua's eyes lit up.

"Finally… got you!"

The long-missing Crossing Dragon, gone for days, had resurfaced in the fishing village.

It was midday.

Crossing Dragon, with a fish basket strapped to his back, looked like just another ordinary fisher cultivator.

He strolled through the village casually, unnoticed by anyone.

He wandered aimlessly through the village,

either checking on the fishers or… looking for something.

When he passed by Old Yu's house, his expression deepened—

a thoughtful glint in his eyes.

Then, carrying his fish basket, he left the village.

Mo Hua immediately followed.

He watched as Crossing Dragon walked straight to the Yanshui Riverbank…

and then dove in headfirst.

Just like that—he was gone, moving beneath the surface like a huge black fish.

But Mo Hua's divine sense was sharp—

he'd studied the White Wave Art, mastered water-evading footwork, and even developed a faint spiritual attunement with the Yanshui River.

Though Crossing Dragon hid beneath the waters, he never escaped Mo Hua's sight.

Everything he did—Mo Hua saw it all.

And Crossing Dragon… had no idea he was being watched.

Mo Hua kept trailing him.

Crossing Dragon kept swimming.

As dusk approached, Mo Hua grew anxious.

This was the second of his two rest days—

By nightfall, he'd have to return to the sect for class.

But to get this far and then give up?

If he lost the lead, there might never be another chance.

And matters involving an evil god… couldn't afford delay.

Mo Hua gritted his teeth and sent a message to Gu Changhuai:

"Uncle Gu, I've made a major discovery. Please request one more day off from the sect on my behalf!"

Uncle Gu was a Dao-Ting enforcer—far more convincing when requesting leave than Mo Hua himself.

No matter what, today he had to uncover the truth—

Expose Crossing Dragon, and uncover the evil god's secret in the fishing village.

Mo Hua's eyes glinted with determination.

Eventually, Crossing Dragon did as he always had—

swimming leisurely in the Yanshui River, occasionally catching a fish or two.

At nightfall, he climbed ashore.

Same routine as before—

took out his fish basket, packed up his catch, and carried it back to the village.

Mo Hua followed quietly.

After entering the village, Crossing Dragon looked around warily—

then, just like last time, took the same winding route and turned into the same narrow alley…

…and vanished once again.

Mo Hua's brows furrowed slightly.

But this time—

he had a pretty good idea where he went.

The night was pitch-black, and the moon cast a cold glow.

The atmosphere in the air… gradually grew oppressive.

Mo Hua stepped softly across the village's damp ground,

the heavy smell of fish growing stronger, as he made his way toward the back—toward the old well.

When he arrived, his eyes lit up.

Crossing Dragon was there!

Mo Hua crept closer and saw:

Crossing Dragon had placed his fish basket to the side…

then pulled out a brush and inkstone from his robes.

The brush had dark bristles—

it looked like it had been made from human hair.

The inkstone was bone-white, cold and chilling.

As he ground the ink, fresh blood began to seep out.

Using this human-hair brush, dipped in the blood ink of the bone-inkstone,

Crossing Dragon began to draw a series of strange, archaic, and cryptic runes around the well.

Mo Hua's heart jolted.

"These… are heretical formation runes?!"

So Crossing Dragon was… a formation master?

Beside the cursed well, Crossing Dragon painted the bloody array with reverence—

humble and solemn, like a devotee before a god.

Mo Hua remained hidden, silently watching.

As the formation grew—

the aura surrounding the well became more and more unnatural.

Until finally, as the last rune was completed—

the well shuddered violently…

And suddenly, it was as if the flow of fate reversed itself.

In Mo Hua's senses—

this was no longer the same well.

A powerful stench of rotting fish and blood hit him in the face.

A bizarre crimson mist poured out from within—

spreading outward—

engulfing the entire village.

It was as if… the seal on the well had just been broken.

Mo Hua stood shocked, staring at the formation—his expression solemn.

"What… kind of formation is this…?"

"To be able to seal the aura of an evil god…"

He furrowed his brows, struggling to comprehend it.

But suddenly—a thought struck him.

"A seal…"

Mo Hua's pupils shrank.

Could this be what Huang Shanjun once mentioned— that nearly lost formation art known as…

Divine Path Formation?!

(End of this Chapter)