Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 576: Journey

A few days later, Mo Hua boarded the Cloud Ferry.

This particular Cloud Ferry was smaller and simpler than the one his senior brother and sister had taken, yet it still appeared quite majestic.

Riding the clouds, the Cloud Ferry soared into the sky, stirring layers upon layers of cloud-wolves—an awe-inspiring sight.

In about three months, it would arrive in Qianzhou.

Mo Hua needed to reach Qiandao Sect, a fifth-grade sect within Qianxue Prefecture of Qianzhou, before September—roughly five months from now—and try to gain entry.

The Cloud Ferry drifted in the sky, flying through the clouds.

Though it was described as "flying," it didn't quite count as true flight—at least not the same as a cultivator flying on their own.

Above, there was a sea of clouds, and within that sea, cloud veins—channels of airflow. These air currents formed fierce winds that surged through the skies of the Nine Provinces and ultimately gathered in Xunzhou.

The Cloud Ferry navigated between provinces by riding those cloud currents.

At first, Mo Hua was fascinated by everything. But after a few days, the novelty wore off, leaving only boredom.

Each cultivator had their own small cabin on the Cloud Ferry.

The cabins were modest—meant for cultivation and rest.

Mo Hua spent most of his time in his own little cabin, cultivating quietly and studying array formations.

He was traveling alone and rarely left his room to avoid unnecessary trouble.

Only during mealtimes would he go out and wander a bit.

The Cloud Ferry had a grand hall that sold all sorts of goods.

There was a variety of food available—though expensive. Mo Hua could afford it but didn't indulge often, just occasionally to satisfy cravings.

He wasn't short on spirit stones, but he also knew that while traveling, one had to be frugal.

There'd be plenty of places to spend spirit stones in Qianzhou.

In the grand hall, cultivators could also rent stalls to sell local specialties, along with various spiritual tools, pills, and formations of differing styles.

Mo Hua would occasionally stroll around, eyes wide with curiosity.

It was his first time seeing so many types of spiritual weapons.

There were paired mother-child sabers, long spears, halberds, flying needles, pear-blossom needles, red silks, iron chains…

Among them, the most expensive were swords.

Swords were considered the monarchs among the myriad tools of cultivation.

There were countless methods, arts, crafting techniques, and knowledge related to swords—so deep and profound that sword-wielding cultivators were often distinguished from others with the specific title: Sword Cultivator.

Many cultivators aspired to become sword cultivators.

However, sword cultivation required both powerful techniques and sword arts, and the methods of crafting swords were usually tightly guarded, passed down through lineage and heritage.

That's why, in the Great Black Mountain, hardly anyone used swords.

Most cultivators there favored blades.

Even those who did use swords often treated them like regular weapons—swinging them as if they were knives—not real sword cultivators.

The only true sword cultivator Mo Hua had ever met was probably Zhang Lan.

His heavy ancient sword, with its aged, elegant patterns, was so weighty that even Mo Hua struggled to lift it. Just one look, and you could tell it was priceless.

Apparently, even among sword cultivators, there were distinctions.

Some practiced body-refining swordsmanship—using swords for close combat, merging sword qi with physical force, splitting mountains and seas.

Others used spiritual techniques—fighting at range, commanding swords with divine sense, slaying foes from a thousand miles away.

But Mo Hua hadn't seen any of that in person. He wasn't sure if it was real or just legend.

"Sword cultivator…"

He had once imagined—given his strong divine sense—what if he learned the art of sword control, wielding thousands of flying swords with a thought, summoning a rain of blades? Wouldn't that be both powerful and stylish?

That dream died the moment he saw the price tags on swords at the market stalls.

Spirit swords were too expensive!

Even a random spirit sword cost seven or eight thousand spirit stones.

A slightly better one went for over ten thousand.

And they wore out easily.

If they broke, you'd have to buy another.

Unlike the ancient sects and noble clans, where top-grade swords were ancestral treasures—made of rare materials, durable, refined over generations, the cultivator and sword as one, their might immense.

Mo Hua sighed.

Forget it… Better to stick to his arrays.

Swordsmanship? Meh. Who needs it?

He couldn't afford it anyway…

Besides food and spiritual weapons, the grand hall also had pills and formations for sale.

Mo Hua didn't bother with the pills.

Elder Feng had prepared plenty for him—both first-grade and second-grade.

The second-grade ones had been specially commissioned from an alchemist by pulling some strings.

There were restorative, detoxifying, and miasma-resisting pills—everything he might need.

What truly interested Mo Hua was the formations.

But this too turned out to be a disappointment.

Most of the stall owners were first-grade array masters. Second-grade ones were rare.

Even when someone did sell a second-grade array diagram, it was overpriced and not very rare—definitely not worth the cost.

Rather than spending spirit stones on those, he'd rather rely on luck, study the Five Elements Flow Array Map, decipher its elemental glyphs, and randomly draw new formations from it…

He also encountered cultivators of all kinds.

The Cloud Ferry passed through Lizhou, Kunzhou, Duizhou, Qianzhou, and finally to Kanzhou.

Cultivators from all these provinces boarded the ferry—coming and going, bustling and varied in attire, techniques, and spiritual roots.

Their customs were different, their appearances unique, and their behaviors unfamiliar.

Mo Hua even saw some spirit root types he'd never encountered before.

Although curious, he avoided chatting with anyone.

He was afraid someone might try something shady.

You never know what people are thinking—and traveling alone, it was best to stay cautious.

Some cultivators did approach him, seeing how young he looked, greeting him with fake smiles:

"Such a cute little brother…"

"You traveling alone, little guy?"

Then came the bait:

"I have a lucky opportunity…"

Or:

"Big sister has something special to show you…"

Mo Hua might've been young, but he'd already traveled around a bit—he was "semi-veteran" at this point. It wasn't hard to see through their tricks.

In such cases, he simply ignored them.

Anyway, powerful cultivators oversaw the Cloud Ferry. These people wouldn't dare make a mess.

Usually, if Mo Hua ignored them, they got the hint and left him alone.

So Mo Hua kept to his tiny room, cultivating daily, diligently studying array formations. At night, he practiced second-grade formations on the Dao Tablet, continuously strengthening his 14-glyph divine sense.

When he had spare time, he studied the Five Elements Flow Array Map and deciphered a few formations.

When he got bored, he'd go out onto the deck and gaze at the endless sea of clouds.

The days passed peacefully and steadily.

Eventually, the monotony became familiar—almost comforting.

And just like that, cautious and focused, Mo Hua passed three months aboard the Cloud Ferry, which finally arrived in Qianzhou.

As the ferry docked, Mo Hua packed his belongings and disembarked alone.

Still, his heart thumped with nerves and unease.

Just as he stepped off, he suddenly froze, looking up, eyes wide with shock.

All of Heaven and Earth belonged to the Nine Provinces.

But the sky above each province… was subtly different.

Ordinary cultivators couldn't tell, but Mo Hua could.

He had seen the Heavenly Dao Formation with his own eyes, and now—vaguely—he sensed the difference.

The Heavenly Formation above Qianzhou was completely unlike that of Lizhou.

This meant the Dao Formation in this region had a different pattern and layout.

What exactly had changed, Mo Hua couldn't say. His cultivation was still too low.

He raised his head again and looked at the sky.

Qianzhou.

Qian—representing Heaven.

Heaven moves with strength; a noble man should strive unceasingly.

Wherever he went, Heaven was always above, Earth below.

Above: the eternal Heavenly Dao Formation.

Below: the Earth's profound and enduring essence.

He too must do the same—comprehend formations, seek the Dao, and constantly grow stronger…

Mo Hua nodded to himself.

The strangeness and unease of a foreign land faded just a bit.

With his storage pouch slung over his shoulder, he stood tall and proud, stepped off the deck, and faced the vast sky as he set foot on the soil of Qianzhou.

…

Qianzhou was vast, with many prefectures under its domain.

Among them, some were large, some small; some low-grade, others high-grade. One of the most renowned was the fifth-grade Qianxue Prefecture, known for its numerous sects and flourishing scholarly culture.

The Cloud Ferry had landed in Cangdu City, located within Cangdu Prefecture, a third-grade prefecture.

Cangdu Prefecture was still a fair distance from Qianxue Prefecture.

Cangdu City had grown and prospered thanks to the Cloud Ferry routes—it was a cultivation city with excellent transportation and constant flow of cultivators.

Within the city, many young men and women could be seen—evidently cultivators from various provinces—who had come to Qianzhou aboard Cloud Ferries to pursue their studies.

The only difference was, they all had elders or family members escorting them.

Only Mo Hua was alone.

He rested in Cangdu City for one night. The next day, he set out, departing from Cangdu, heading alone toward Qianxue Prefecture.

Other cultivators traveled by horseback, carriages, or flying cloud carriages.

Mo Hua, to save spirit stones, could only go on foot.

He had mapped out a route for himself.

It would take him from Cangdu City, through mountains and rivers, passing through two second-grade prefectures before finally arriving at the fifth-grade Qianxue Prefecture.

Although this detour was a bit longer, it was safer since second-grade prefectures restricted cultivation to Foundation Establishment level.

With Mo Hua's early-stage Foundation Establishment cultivation, and his mastery of arrays and spells, he could manage quite well.

Even if he encountered someone he couldn't defeat, his Stealth Art and Flowing Water Steps would help him escape.

But if he passed through third-grade prefectures and had the misfortune of running into a Jindan cultivator with evil intentions—he'd be finished.

Jindan cultivators were way beyond his ability to handle.

He might get chopped down by a single flying sword.

So—better to be a coward than a dead hero.

As long as he could reach Qianxue Prefecture within a month and a half and successfully enter the Qiandao Sect, he'd be fine.

Mo Hua did the math—he had plenty of time.

Plus, he could use the journey to practice his second-grade Flowing Water Steps.

Back in Tongxian City, he had only briefly learned the technique, without much time to study or use it.

Now, during his journey, he could use it frequently to improve his mastery.

For a life-saving movement technique like this, the more practice, the better—he needed to be able to perform it in his sleep.

One moment of hesitation, and he could lose his life in a crisis.

With his plans settled, Mo Hua packed up and set off down the road toward the academic center of Qianzhou—alone.

The journey was long and exposed him to the elements.

When there was no one around, he used Flowing Water Steps to travel—light as a breeze, swift as a stream.

When tired, he rested.

Occasionally, he would come across caravans flying proper banners, with cultivators who looked decent and whose spiritual presence bore no malice—only then would Mo Hua approach.

Sometimes he'd grab a free meal or a ride.

It gave him a chance to rest.

These cultivators were usually quite warmhearted. Seeing someone so young traveling alone often surprised them. They'd offer him some wine and meat in hospitality.

But Mo Hua didn't accept kindness for nothing.

He would glance at their formation setups, point out flaws, and help fix them.

This always delighted the caravan members.

"Young master, there's more to this chapter! Click next page to continue—the good stuff's coming up!"

Often, when parting ways, they'd even gift Mo Hua something—not expensive, but full of goodwill. It made Mo Hua very happy.

Of course, danger wasn't absent along the road.

He sometimes ran into beasts in the forest, wandering rogue cultivators with bounties, or whole groups of cultivators whose appearance could fool others—but not Mo Hua. One look and he could tell they were evil cultivators.

He'd seen too many of them.

Back when he traveled with his Martial Uncle, he encountered all kinds: living evil cultivators, dead ones, and even those who dropped dead on the spot the moment they saw his Martial Uncle.

Evil cultivators had a twisted aura, and their divine sense carried a filthy, bloody taint.

With Mo Hua's sharp divine sense, he could easily tell them apart.

But there wasn't much he could do—he just avoided them from afar.

He was just a low-level lone cultivator, unfamiliar with the area. This kind of trouble was not his to get involved in.

He kept a low profile, quietly continuing on his way to Qianxue Prefecture—his main goal: enter a sect, learn the Dao, cultivate properly.

Along the way, he would sometimes pass immortal cities or small towns.

He usually stayed briefly to rest, ask for directions, or inquire about any dangers on the road ahead.

The cultivators in immortal cities tended to be aloof and cold.

In contrast, small towns had simple customs—cultivators were friendlier and more talkative.

"Just climb that mountain ahead, cross the hill, follow the mountain path for a few hundred more miles, pass through a few minor immortal cities—and you'll be at Qianxue Prefecture…"

"There are beasts in the mountains—be careful, kid…"

"If it gets too dark, the road will be hard to travel. Just spend the night in that run-down temple in the mountains."

"That temple used to be a shrine to the Mountain God. But later, the Mountain God turned into an evil spirit. A few elders from Qianxue Prefecture came and slayed him…"

"Now it's empty, but many cultivators who get delayed in the mountains stop to rest there…"

The one sharing all this was a hunched old man.

He ran a noodle shop in the town. Mo Hua, hungry, had ordered a large bowl of noodles, and the two chatted casually as he ate.

Mo Hua politely thanked the old man.

The old man ran a noodle shop in the small town. Mo Hua, hungry, ordered a big bowl of noodles and chatted casually with the old man while eating.

Mo Hua politely thanked him.

The old man stroked his beard and nodded slightly. Then, curiously, he asked:

"You're from out of town, aren't you, child? Why are you all alone?"

"I'm out on a training journey..." Mo Hua replied.

The old man shook his head. "A kid like you, training in what?"

"I'm fifteen! Not that young!" Mo Hua said.

The old man snorted, "Fifteen's still just a child. Around here, if you're not twenty yet, you're still just a little brat..."

Mo Hua asked further and finally understood.

Qianzhou was a major province—pleasant climate, far more prosperous than Lizhou. Even the lives of rogue cultivators were better than those in Lizhou.

And cultivators in Qianzhou generally trained for longer periods.

Those with family backing, or from clans and sects, had it even better.

They didn't need to worry like loose cultivators who had to strengthen their bodies early to survive—many could afford to cultivate steadily until their twenties.

They could slowly nourish their bodies, solidify their foundations, and only then attempt Foundation Establishment.

And if they still didn't succeed, they could be sent to work in family-owned industries to gain experience gradually.

So under twenty, people here were considered to be in the age of carefree cultivation and Daoist enlightenment.

Mo Hua felt a bit helpless.

He'd thought fifteen made him a full-fledged youth.

But here in these powerful provinces, he was still just half a kid...

The old man looked him over again and asked, "You've already reached Foundation Establishment?"

Mo Hua nodded. "Mm."

The old man looked regretful. "Too rushed. With your spiritual power and blood essence, you should've taken more time to settle and temper yourself. Why rush to Foundation Establishment?"

"You aiming to join a sect by the time you're twenty?"

Mo Hua nodded again.

The old man sighed. "It's not that simple. With a weak foundation like that, even if you hit Foundation Establishment before twenty, no one would take you in…"

"Besides," the old man narrowed his eyes, "your spiritual roots don't seem too good either?"

Mo Hua didn't hide it. "Only mid-low grade."

The old man froze for a second, then shook his head and sighed. "That's tough…"

Mo Hua wanted to ask, "Would an entry token make a difference?"—but after thinking for a moment, he held his tongue.

Traveling the world, you don't show your wealth.

In a region like Qianzhou, with so many disciples seeking to learn, something like an Entry Token would definitely be precious—no one should know he had one. Better not tempt trouble.

Instead, Mo Hua asked, "Do you know about the Qiandao Sect?"

"Who doesn't know about the Qiandao Sect?" The old man exclaimed—and then looked startled. "Wait... don't tell me you're trying to join them?"

Mo Hua nodded. "Just trying my luck."

The old man quickly shook his head. "That's even more impossible. Qiandao Sect is one of the Four Great Sects in Qianxue Prefecture—an elite among elites. In every Dao Debate held in the prefecture, they're always in the top three..."

"With your talent and foundation, there's no way they'll accept you."

"No exceptions?" Mo Hua asked.

"Exceptions…" The old man paused. "That, I don't know. But what kind of exception could there be? Even if you were the sect master's illegitimate son…"

He frowned. "Probably still a long shot… You just don't understand how high the bar is. These sects care extremely much about spiritual roots…"

Mo Hua frowned too.

So spiritual roots mattered that much...

He had underestimated how difficult it would be to join.

He didn't even know if his Entry Token would be recognized by the Qiandao Sect…

If not—he might need to make alternate plans.

After finishing his noodles and chatting a while longer, Mo Hua paid with spirit stones, and once again set off—heading toward the deep mountains in the distance.

The old man, seeing the small figure traveling all alone, frowned in concern and couldn't help but give a few warnings:

"Kid, be careful out there. Try not to travel at night. If you can't go further, rest at the Mountain God Temple."

"Thanks, Grandpa! I'll remember!" Mo Hua replied.

"And also—watch out for kidnappers…"

Mo Hua paused. "Kidnappers?"

"Mhm." The old man nodded and lowered his voice. "This is Qianzhou. Sure, sects have power here, the Dao Court governs strictly, and law and order is good, but…"

"There are people who, for enough spirit stones, will do anything."

Mo Hua asked, "Kidnappers… Who would they kidnap?"

The old man pointed directly at Mo Hua. "Mainly kids like you."

Mo Hua blinked, thought for a moment, and then understood.

Qianzhou was a place for cultivating and learning the Dao.

Many gifted young cultivators from various factions came here to study.

Which meant that kidnapping them, and ransoming them to their families for vast amounts of spirit stones, had become a dangerous but lucrative trade.

In fact, even without ransom—

Talented cultivators with rare and high-grade spiritual roots were valuable just as merchandise, sold for an impressive price.

"Trafficking cultivators, huh…"

Mo Hua nodded. "Got it. I'll be careful."

The old man couldn't tell whether Mo Hua truly understood or not, so he said nothing more—just watched the boy with a worried expression.

Mo Hua waved goodbye to the old man, turned around, and—light on his feet—continued alone down the mountain road, heading deeper into the wilderness…

(End of Chapter)