Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 2: The Dao Stele

Since Mo Hua could remember, the Dao Stele had always existed within his sea of consciousness—along with a few faint, hazy memories.

In those memories, Mo Hua lived a short life in another world, one without spiritual energy.

In that life, his family was ordinary, but he studied hard and did well in school. He was admitted to a university, majoring in Fine Arts, with a love for traditional Chinese painting and calligraphy.

After graduation, he became a graphic designer at a large company. He worked overtime constantly and died of overwork in his twenties.

He studied while he was a student, worked when he graduated, living his entire life in tension and anxiety.

When he finally had a moment to reflect, he realized he had lived muddled and died suddenly.

In the brief moment before death, his entire life flashed before his eyes like a lantern show—and he found he had done nothing truly meaningful.

He hadn't honored his parents, never chased his dreams, never experienced love, and never witnessed the wonders of the vast world…

These memories were fuzzy. Sometimes, even Mo Hua couldn't tell if they were real or imagined.

Like Zhuangzi dreaming of a butterfly—was it he dreaming of the butterfly, or the butterfly dreaming of him?

Over time, Mo Hua stopped dwelling on it.

The past was the past. Now, he was ten years old, living in the cultivation world.

And he was a cultivator.

A cultivator who could one day comprehend the Great Dao, soar through the Nine Provinces, pluck the sun and moon with a wave, bury stars with a turn of the palm!

…Or, he could just as easily be a lowly cultivator who spent his whole life stuck in Qi Refining—unable to fly, unable to fight, barely able to use a few minor techniques—scraping by to survive.

If not for the Dao Stele, Mo Hua figured he'd probably be the latter.

The Dao Stele floated within his sea of consciousness.

It was vast and ancient, irregular and broken in form. Its body seemed illusory, yet emitted a profound and boundless aura. It was as if it contained endless mystery—and yet, at a glance, it was completely empty.

On the stele's ethereal surface, formations could be drawn—and with each formation Mo Hua drew, his divine sense would strengthen.

Among the countless cultivation professions, formations reign supreme!

Formations were the most difficult branch of cultivation to learn. And the most critical aspect of mastering them… was divine sense.

Formations were composed of formation patterns, crafted by ancient cultivators who meticulously studied the Dao and transcribed its mysteries.

These lines resembled ancient script, yet also minimalist paintings—each brimming with unfathomable secrets.

When drawing formations, a cultivator's sea of consciousness must connect to the Dao, consuming vast amounts of divine sense in the process.

Without sufficient divine sense, a cultivator couldn't draw formations. Forcing it could lead to exhaustion, collapse of the consciousness, or even death.

To become a formation master, one had to constantly study different diagrams and endlessly practice.

Which was why learning and practicing formations was so difficult—and why formation masters often perished from overextending their divine sense.

However, when Mo Hua drew formations on the Dao Stele, his divine sense was indeed consumed—

But when he erased the diagram, all that divine sense would instantly return, leaving him replenished.

From something to nothing, and then nothing to something again… it mirrored the Dao—profound and mysterious.

Moreover, with every formation he drew, his divine sense increased slightly. Though the gain was small, it was real.

As far as Mo Hua knew, there were no cultivation techniques in the world that trained divine sense directly. It was generally only strengthened through breakthroughs in cultivation realm.

Thus, even the smallest increase was incredibly precious.

As long as he kept practicing formations on the Dao Stele, he could continue to raise both his skill and divine sense.

And with stronger divine sense, Mo Hua would be able to learn more advanced, more powerful formations.

One day, he could truly become a formidable formation master.

Formation masters held high status. Even ordinary ones, below the first rank, could earn a solid living just by drawing formations for others.

If he could become a true formation master—one capable of crafting profound diagrams—he'd have a foundation to stand on. He wouldn't be stuck as a Qi Refining cultivator forever.

That was Mo Hua's quiet determination.

But becoming a formation master was no easy feat.

Formation techniques were hard to learn. Formation masters were harder to become.

Among all cultivation professions, the Dao Court placed the strictest standards on recognizing formation masters.

Formations were made of patterns. Basic ones had just a single pattern. With every additional pattern, the formation advanced one tier in rank—and the divine sense required increased significantly.

Drawing 1–5 patterns: formation apprentice.

Drawing 6–8 patterns: formation master (though not recognized in the Dao Court's official ranking).

Only those who could draw 9 patterns and pass the Dao Court's stringent evaluation would be certified as true First-Rank Formation Masters.

For a Qi Refining cultivator, reaching first rank was nearly akin to ascending to the heavens in one step.

First-Rank Formation Masters were honored guests of noble families and sects. Even Foundation Establishment cultivators dared not offend them lightly. They received a monthly stipend from the Dao Court's Heavenly Pivot Pavilion—and countless beautiful young female cultivators would line up at their door, eager to become Dao companions.

Yet aside from the brutal difficulty of the assessment, each province had limited slots for certified formation masters. To become one required both effort—and luck.

If you had the skill but your province's quota was full, you'd be denied certification and have to wait for the next cycle.

Some spent their whole lives chasing this title, only to die unfulfilled.

Countless bottom-tier cultivators poured in all their effort, studied until their hair turned white—and never achieved their dream of becoming a First-Rank Formation Master.

And those so-called "limited quotas" were often nothing more than pretexts for nepotism. Major clans and sects had already earmarked the spots for their favored heirs—using the title to elevate their own elites.

The countless cultivators who gave their all for that title? Just specks of dust beneath their feet.

Night had fallen.

Mo Hua lay in his dormitory, but his divine sense was immersed in the Dao Stele, tirelessly drawing formations.

The one he practiced was called the Dual-Origin Formation—containing two patterns, considered among the basic formations.

But until now, Mo Hua had never successfully drawn it.

Early-stage Qi Refining disciples generally lacked the divine sense to learn anything more than single-pattern formations. Even among Tongxian Sect's outer disciples, few had mastered a single full formation.

As for one-pattern formations, Mo Hua had long since perfected them, able to draw them with ease.

He wanted to learn more difficult ones. So each night, he practiced the Dual-Origin Formation on the Dao Stele.

After dozens of nights and drop-by-drop effort—he finally succeeded.

For a formation master, each additional pattern was a step up. Drawing two patterns meant his divine sense and formation ability had already surpassed his peers by far.

Among all the outer disciples in the early Qi Refining stage at Tongxian Sect, his formation skills could be considered unmatched.

Mo Hua let out a breath of relief. When the sky brightened at the Mao hour, his divine sense returned to his sea of consciousness, and he opened his eyes.

Despite having drawn all night, he felt refreshed—his divine sense was clear, not tired at all. It was as if he'd simply had a good night's sleep.

He pushed open the window. Morning sunlight fell upon his fair and delicate face.

Outside, the rising sun painted the sky in brilliant hues.

Ten-year-old Mo Hua took a deep breath, eyes firm as he gazed toward the horizon.

As long as he kept practicing formations and refining his divine sense,

—one day, he would become a First-Rank Formation Master.

And then, like the rising sun, he would take his first true step toward the Dao.

No longer just another Qi Refining cultivator.

(End of Chapter)