Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 1: Mo Hua

Year 20022 of the Dao Calendar, Tenth of the Ninth Month.

In Tongxian City, outside the Outer Mountains of the Tongxian Sect.

Ten-year-old Mo Hua, dressed in the plain Daoist robe of an outer disciple, crouched in boredom behind a massive boulder at the foot of the mountain. In his hand was a grass root, which he used to draw complex patterns in the dirt.

By the time of the Mao hour (5–7 a.m.), disciples climbing the mountain for their studies had begun arriving in pairs and groups, chatting and laughing as they went.

A chubby boy, wearing the same outer sect robe but adorned with expensive jade ornaments, small-eyed and round-faced, arrived with two or three followers in tow. He found Mo Hua amusing himself behind the boulder, drawing away with intense focus.

The chubby boy looked around to make sure no instructors were nearby before calling out cautiously:

"Mo Hua!"

Mo Hua looked up, revealing a delicate and handsome young face—clear-eyed, like a pool of untouched spring water.

The chubby boy lowered his voice. "Did you finish it?"

Ten-year-old Mo Hua patted his chest with an air of maturity. "Of course. When I say I'll handle something, you can count on me." With that, he pulled out several formation diagrams from his storage pouch—white paper, red ink—and handed them over.

"Check if anything looks off."

The chubby boy solemnly took the papers, flipped through one, gave it a brief look, then grimaced. "I can't understand any of it…"

Mo Hua explained patiently, "The assignment was basic Five Elements formation patterns. I drew them for you—and even deliberately made six mistakes so the instructor wouldn't suspect they weren't yours…"

"Six… isn't that a bit too many?"

Mo Hua stared silently at him.

Realizing his mistake, the chubby boy immediately reflected, "One mustn't be too greedy. As long as I can turn in my homework, that's good enough. If it's too well-done, it'll just arouse suspicion. If the instructor notices and tells my dad, he'll beat me half to death! Not worth it, not worth it…"

Mo Hua nodded, "As expected of Young Master An—quick to see through the situation!"

The chubby boy shoved two spirit stones into Mo Hua's hand. "Brother Mo, you've got good taste—you knew I was smart! Spirit stones are yours. Next time there's a formation assignment, I'll come find you again!"

He tucked the diagrams into his robes and dashed up the mountain.

Mo Hua carefully stored the two spirit stones away, plucked another grass root, and resumed drawing in the dirt.

A moment later, another young noble approached. He was thin, holding a golden fan, with a sharp face and even more jade pendants hanging from him.

Mo Hua handed him a diagram as well. The youth gave it a cursory glance and signaled to his servant, who stepped forward and handed Mo Hua two spirit stones.

The noble took the formation diagram but didn't leave. Instead, he closed his fan with a snap and said arrogantly, "This young master is quite skilled in formations too. It's just that I don't have time for such basic patterns—that's why I had you draft them."

Mo Hua couldn't be bothered to respond. He simply picked up his grass root and resumed drawing.

The noble was a bit annoyed and sneered, "They say among the Qi Refining disciples of Tongxian Sect, your formation skills are the best. I wonder how you compare to me. Got time to have a match sometime?"

Mo Hua thought, You're literally paying me to do your homework—what does that say about your skills?

Still, believing in the principle that harmony brings wealth, he looked up and flattered with a smile, "Naturally, Young Master's attainments in formations are far superior. The Qian family is the most powerful in all of Tongxian City—their formation legacy is beyond what ordinary cultivators can compare to."

The noble's expression eased slightly. "Then tell me, among the Qi Refining disciples here, is there anyone who can match my level in formations?"

"There are a few…" Mo Hua said vaguely.

The noble scowled. "Who?"

Like I'd tell you it's me, Mo Hua thought.

"There's just… quite a few, hard to name them all at once."

The noble clearly became more irritated.

"This is a good thing!" Mo Hua lied through his teeth, eyes wide with fake sincerity.

The noble scoffed, "Others have no family like mine, no spirit stones like I do, yet their formation skills surpass mine. Are you saying I'm stupid? Where's the 'good' in that?"

Mo Hua replied calmly, "No matter how talented the loose cultivators in Tongxian City are, no matter how well they learn—won't they still end up working in your Qian family's Myriad Treasures Pavilion? Drawing formations, refining pills and tools for you?"

"Think about it—you're still at Qi Refining, yet Foundation Establishment cultivators already work for you. You're a first-rank formation master, but second-rank formation masters follow your orders. Isn't that powerful? The stronger your subordinates, the more impressive you look."

The noble froze, then suddenly realized something. "That… actually makes sense!"

"Right?"

He nodded, puffing up with pride as he looked down at the commoners below the mountain. "Exactly! No matter how talented they are or how hard they cultivate—in the end, they're still just working for my Qian family!"

With a smug, bitter smile, he left, head held high.

After tricking him away, Mo Hua resumed practicing his formation lines in the dirt.

Before long, more wealthy young cultivators came by, trading spirit stones for formations—one for the diagrams, one for the service. By the time all the transactions were done, Mo Hua had twelve spirit stones in hand.

Twelve spirit stones may not seem like much, but for a rogue cultivator, it was already a decent sum.

Yet in the path of cultivation, it was still far from enough.

Mo Hua sighed. His young face carried a trace of helplessness.

For those at the bottom, the path of cultivation… seemed forever out of reach.

Twenty thousand years ago, in the first year of the Dao Calendar, the largest force in the cultivation world—the Dao Court—unified the Nine Provinces of cultivation. They officially conferred titles on noble families and sects, established a hierarchical system, and standardized cultivation professions.

They also issued the Dao Laws, restricting cultivators from wanton killing, robbery, and dual cultivation abuse.

This brought peace for over twenty thousand years. The cultivation world prospered immensely, expanding across vast lands, with cultivators numbering beyond count.

But even as the Dao Court flourished, noble families grew extravagant, and sects claimed entire territories—

Only the bottom-tier rogue cultivators remained unsupported, living in poverty, with no hope for the path of Dao.

Over time, mortals without spiritual roots were naturally weeded out. Only those with roots—those capable of cultivation—remained. Yet the more cultivators there were, the more spiritual energy they consumed.

Now, to cultivate, one needs both inheritance and spirit stones.

But major clans control the spirit stone mines, while great sects hoard the inheritances. Common rogue cultivators are left with neither.

In Tongxian City, most rogue cultivators have no legacy to rely on and too few spirit stones. All their lives, they remain stuck in the Qi Refining Realm.

Qi Refining—just ants beneath the heavens.

Mo Hua… was one such ant among billions.

And most likely, he'd remain one for the rest of his life.

His young face was tinged with quiet bitterness.

The Dao of Heaven might be impartial, but cultivation itself… was never fair.

Mo Hua was a second-layer Qi Refining rogue cultivator, born into a family of the same level. His father, Mo Shan, hunted beasts for a living, constantly injured from fighting monsters. His mother worked in the kitchen of a dining hall, frequently coughing from the fire's fumes.

All their savings went toward getting Mo Hua into the outer sect of Tongxian Sect.

But no matter how diligently he cultivated, his mid–low grade spiritual roots meant his talent was barely above average. In a world overflowing with geniuses, he was still ordinary.

No matter how much effort he put in, he would likely remain a Qi Refining cultivator forever.

Without spirit stones, cultivation stalled.

He would have to leave the sect at the sixth layer, like most outer disciples, and find a trade to survive.

Yet Mo Hua was born physically frail.

Crafting tools and hunting monsters—those trades needed strong bodies. For someone like him, even finding a job to feed himself would be hard.

And if he married and had children one day, all spirit stones would go toward supporting them.

With no stones left for himself, his cultivation would forever stagnate—just another Qi Refining cultivator.

Just like the countless poor rogue cultivators of Tongxian City.

Just like the countless nameless souls across the cultivation world.

A lifetime spent in Qi Refining only.

Ten-year-old Mo Hua sighed, composed himself, and headed to class. After a full day of cultivation, he returned to his dorm, read some Daoist texts, and finally lay down at midnight.

As his eyes closed, a strange monument appeared in his sea of consciousness.

The broken stele bore no inscription, yet from the moment Mo Hua saw it, he instinctively knew its name:

Dao Stele.

(End of Chapter)