Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 579: Sending Big Brother on His Way

After crossing the deep mountains, there were still several hundred li to go before reaching Qingzhou City.

Once there, it would mean one foot had already stepped into the Qianxue State's borders.

Qianxue State was steeped in scholarly atmosphere—and it was relatively safer.

From there, all Mo Hua needed was to follow the map, find the Qiandao Sect, and present the sect's entry token to join.

"Joining a sect…"

Mo Hua's face was full of anticipation.

On the way, he looked relaxed, steps light, following Jiang Laoda and his group without a hint of suspicion.

And of course, taking full advantage of their food and supplies.

At night, they stayed in rundown temples or abandoned huts in the wild. Mo Hua would eat his fill and curl up in his little blanket, sleeping soundly.

Jiang Laoda's group sat by the fire.

Someone glanced at Mo Hua and scoffed, "This kid's got no caution at all. Just like a fool—hasn't got a clue."

Jiang Laoda shot him a sharp look. "Watch your mouth."

The man shut up but muttered under his breath, "It's not like the little idiot can hear…"

Another person shook his head, "He seems clever, but he's got no real cunning."

"What cunning? You're twice his age and you're no better. Might even be worse."

"If he did have scheming in him, wouldn't that be terrifying?"

"Enough." Jiang Laoda frowned.

Everyone went quiet.

Around them, the crackling fire popped and hissed.

The mountain wind was cold at night, and they huddled close, drinking to keep warm.

Scouts patrolled the perimeter, spiritual sense scanning for movement.

By midnight, it was even quieter.

Mo Hua seemed to sleep deeper—occasionally smacking his lips in his dreams, as if munching on something delicious.

A large man glanced at him and said to Jiang Laoda, "Better that he's dumb. Less trouble along the way, no one'll suspect a thing."

Jiang Laoda nodded faintly.

The man thought a bit, unease flickering across his face. "Boss… can we pull this off?"

Jiang Laoda furrowed his brow, voice low. "Only we're left. It has to work."

"But our group…"

Jiang Laoda glanced at the still-sleeping Mo Hua before replying, "Darkest under the lamp…"

"Of the several groups we sent, the strongest one—eight late Foundation Establishment cultivators, armed with sinister artifacts and demonic cultivation—got noticed by the Dao Court. All wiped out."

"The rest were either caught by the Gu family or are now fugitives."

"The Dao Court's hot on our trail. Any slip, and we're finished."

The man growled, "Damn Dao Court!"

Then he asked, puzzled, "Weren't they always just a bunch of useless officials? Why are they suddenly so on edge this time?"

Jiang Laoda sneered, "You think those in the Dao Court are really all incompetents? Most of them just don't act because there's no profit."

"But when there's profit, when stakes are high—they become proper attack dogs."

"This business of ours touches some sensitive interests. The Dao Court has skin in the game—and the benefits are juicy. Naturally, they're going all in."

The man said in a low voice, "We're just early Foundation Establishment. No way we can stand against the Dao Court or the Gu family…"

Jiang Laoda gave him a cold look. "Even if you were Core Formation, you'd still be dead meat."

The man fell silent.

Jiang Laoda sighed. "That's why we picked a second-grade state, took the long route…"

"Honestly, it helps. If we were stronger, we'd stand out more—would've been caught halfway through already."

The man shuddered a little.

Cultivation really was about luck.

Sometimes, having too high a cultivation just meant dying faster…

"Boss, you really think we'll make the delivery?"

Jiang Laoda replied solemnly, "Mr. Tu already divined the outcome. As long as we follow instructions, the journey may have scares—but no real danger."

Those three words—"Mr. Tu"—seemed to carry weight.

The man looked a little more at ease.

Jiang Laoda added, "Once we finish this deal, we'll earn a fortune in spirit stones. Enough for everyone to buy pills and treasures, retreat for closed-door cultivation, and rise a level or two."

"When the heat dies down, we'll return to business as usual."

The man's eyes lit up, though he scratched his head and grinned sheepishly:

"So many spirit stones… feels like a waste to spend them on bitter cultivation."

Jiang Laoda saw right through him and kicked him. "Stop spending all your time in brothels, you degenerate."

The man chuckled shamelessly, then glanced at Mo Hua and asked:

"What about the kid? Sell him too?"

Jiang Laoda nodded, "I've got it planned. Outside Qingzhou City, we've got a few contacts. Once we reach them, we unload everything at once—sell whatever we can, get what we can."

...

As they chatted, the late hour caught up to them, and both dozed off.

In his sea of consciousness, Mo Hua continued practicing array formations on the Dao Stele, all while eavesdropping on this lovely "bedtime story." He frowned.

"Several teams…"

"Mr. Tu…"

"Trade…"

Looks like this trafficking ring wasn't just a group—it was a network. Possibly a large syndicate.

And it even had demonic cultivators involved…

Could the demonic cultivators I encountered on the road also be part of this racket?

Then there was this "Mr. Tu"…

Who was he?

Divined that the journey would be "dangerous but safe"? What kind of method was that?

Could he be trained in fate-divining techniques? Or did he have some kind of Heaven's Secrets treasure?

Mo Hua began to feel conflicted.

"What should I do next?"

"Wipe out this whole ring of traffickers?"

He shook his head.

He was only at early Foundation Establishment. How could he pull that off?

And this was Qianzhou—not some small fry second-grade state like Daheishan. There were countless high-tier cultivators here.

He had no power, no background, no allies. No one would back him up.

He wasn't qualified to deal with something like this.

"Forget it. Focus on protecting myself…"

Once near Qingzhou City, he'd slip away quietly.

His top priority now was getting into a sect.

That was the main goal. No point wasting energy on anything else.

At most, once in Qingzhou City, he'd report this to the Dao Court.

Let them deal with it. He was just a small Foundation Establishment cultivator—what more could he do?

But as for that "Mr. Tu," the one who could calculate fate…

That one, he'd definitely keep an eye on.

Mo Hua etched the name "Tu" into his memory, then went back to practicing arrays on the Dao Stele.

The next day, he continued traveling with the group.

After a few more days, Qingzhou City was less than a hundred li away.

Mo Hua felt the time was ripe.

It was time to dip.

The world was big—but getting into a sect was bigger.

He had no time to play games with these thugs.

But as they stopped to rest in a mountain forest, Jiang Laoda suddenly pulled out an iron bracelet and held it out to him, his voice cold:

"Put this on."

Mo Hua blinked. "What is it?"

"Doesn't matter. Just wear it."

Jiang Laoda's tone was flat.

The other cultivators all looked at Mo Hua, smiling darkly.

Mo Hua acted "scared," "I… I don't want to…"

A burly man sneered, "Not your choice, kid…"

"Weren't you taking me to find my master?"

Mo Hua asked hesitantly, quietly spreading his spiritual sense, looking for an opening—preparing to use Waterstep Movement to slip away and then hide in the grass with his concealment technique.

His concealment wasn't top-tier—but with his small size and some visual trickery, it would be enough to escape these clowns.

Of course, the traffickers had no idea what was brewing in his head.

Jiang Laoda smiled warmly—but the smile never reached his eyes:

"Put on the bracelet, and we'll take you to your master."

"Really?"

Mo Hua looked innocent, but his spiritual energy was already surging, heels subtly lifting off the ground.

Just then, one of the goons in the crowd scoffed:

"Find your master?"

"What a gullible little idiot!"

"You think anyone has the time to actually help you find your probably-dead master?"

The area fell silent.

The cheerful expression on Mo Hua's face faded, replaced with a faintly cold stare. For a brief second, shadowy flickers of darkness danced in his eyes.

But it passed in a blink—no one noticed.

Jiang Laoda shot a glare at the big-mouthed brute.

The man quickly shut up.

Jiang Laoda turned back to Mo Hua and said gently:

"Little brother, don't mind them. They speak without thinking…"

"We are going to take you to your master."

"This bracelet is a spiritual tool. It protects you—and makes sure you don't get lost. It's for your own good…"

Though his tone was soft, his gaze was icy and brooked no refusal.

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then nodded. "Okay."

He took the bracelet and put it on his pale, delicate wrist.

Jiang Laoda relaxed, now looking at him like a lamb ready for slaughter.

"Let's move."

He led the way forward, the rest following behind, grinning wickedly.

Mo Hua trailed behind silently, staring at their backs like he was already watching a bunch of corpses walk.

...

After that, Mo Hua behaved completely obediently.

Jiang Laoda found it a bit strange, but figured that with the iron bracelet on, a little Foundation Establishment brat like him couldn't stir up much trouble—so he didn't worry too much.

They traveled another hundred or so li, and by evening, arrived at a roadside tavern.

This place was only a few dozen li from Qingzhou City.

The tavern, built in the wilderness, was made of thatch and wood. It was relatively spacious, though there weren't any diners around.

A fat innkeeper and a skinny waiter came out. When they saw Jiang Laoda and his crew, their eyes flickered, then the fat man smiled and asked:

"What can I get you all?"

Jiang Laoda said coldly, "We're not here to eat."

"Then you need lodging?" the innkeeper asked.

"Can people stay here?" Jiang Laoda asked.

The innkeeper subtly let out a breath and smiled, "Not suitable for nobles, but fine for low-level ones."

Jiang Laoda nodded, "Then forget staying—just bring some wine and meat."

"Right away."

Their exchange was a bit… odd.

Mo Hua thought about it, then realized it—these people were all part of the same group.

This innkeeper was also a trafficker, disguised and lying low out here to coordinate with Jiang Laoda and sell off small rogue cultivators like himself.

The group sat down inside the tavern.

The innkeeper brought out some wine and meat, then leaned in to toast Jiang Laoda and asked in a low voice:

"It's done?"

Jiang Laoda nodded.

The innkeeper glanced at Mo Hua and frowned:

"That's him? Doesn't seem like the right age…"

Jiang Laoda shook his head. "No, just a bonus we picked up along the way. The real 'goods'? You think we'd let them travel with us?"

"Don't worry. Everything's set."

The innkeeper finally looked relieved. "Good, good…"

Jiang Laoda then asked, "When's the buyer arriving?"

"In one hour."

"What about the Gu family?"

"Out of the city."

"And the Dao Court?"

"We've got eyes on them. Within twenty li, no dogs from the Dao Court in sight."

Jiang Laoda let out a breath. "Good."

The rest of the crew visibly relaxed.

After days of sleeping rough and constant paranoia, this deal was finally about to close. They could finally earn a fat pile of spirit stones and live comfortably for a few—or maybe even a dozen—years.

The innkeeper brought out the wine and meat.

Everyone dug in after days of hunger, though they were careful with the wine—no one wanted to mess up this close to the end.

Mo Hua also got a small bowl of spirit beast meat. As he ate, he contemplated.

"One hour…

Who's the buyer?

If it's a Golden Core cultivator, I probably can't escape. Even if they're just Foundation Establishment, if too many show up, it'll be tricky…"

"Looks like I need to act early…"

Mo Hua took a bite of the meat, then loudly clanked his bowl down and frowned:

"This tastes awful."

The others all looked over, eyes cold.

"What're you shouting about, brat?"

"The meat's disgusting. Way too bland. Not even close to what I can cook." Mo Hua said with disdain.

The fat innkeeper flared up, "You watch your mouth! This is my family's secret recipe!"

Mo Hua scoffed, "Then your ancestors didn't know how to cook either."

"You—!"

The fat innkeeper flushed with anger, but Jiang Laoda held him back, motioning for him to calm down. "Why argue with a kid?"

At a time like this, fewer problems were better than more.

Jiang Laoda looked at Mo Hua. "Don't like it? Go make your own."

After all, it was the last meal. Might as well let the kid eat something he liked.

Let him enjoy his last supper, Jiang Laoda thought quietly.

Mo Hua beamed, "Okay!" and skipped off toward the kitchen.

Jiang Laoda silently watched him go.

The kitchen was inside the tavern, walls closed in from all sides. Mo Hua still had the iron bracelet on—no way he could run, especially with over ten people watching him.

Even so, Jiang Laoda still released a thread of spiritual sense while he ate, to keep tabs on the kitchen.

Sure enough, Mo Hua was stewing meat.

Surprisingly, all the meat in this tavern was spirit meat. The variety was limited, but the quality was good.

Clearly, these traffickers were living the high life on the back of shady deals.

Spirit meat was expensive—Mo Hua didn't usually indulge. But today? No need to be polite.

He picked out the best cuts, tossed them into the pot, and began cooking using the seasoning and fire control techniques his mother had taught him—blending the meat's natural aroma with the spice to draw out a savory, mouthwatering flavor.

Jiang Laoda's spiritual sense was there, but Mo Hua noticed.

Still, with that level of strength? Heh. As if he could really track Mo Hua.

Once the flavor was balanced and the heat lowered for slow simmering, Mo Hua took out a few bottles of spirit ink from his Storage Ring.

His regular storage pouch had been "confiscated" by Jiang Laoda—"for safekeeping."

Mo Hua didn't care.

All the important stuff was tucked away in the Storage Ring given to him by his master. The ring was hidden from sight—no one could even tell he had it. Safe and sound.

First priority: Get this iron bracelet off.

Mo Hua dipped into his spirit ink, then used his divine sense to guide it, tracing formation patterns onto the bracelet—dismantling the array locking it to his wrist.

This bracelet had two functions: suppressing spiritual power and tracking movement.

The Dao Court had similar tools—used to bind criminal cultivators.

What made this one tricky was the formation engraved on it.

But that was also what made it easy—for Mo Hua.

As long as it was a formation problem, it wasn't really a problem at all.

That was the real reason he obediently put the bracelet on in the first place.

"Trying to trap me with this kind of formation? Tch—showing off in front of a master is just embarrassing."

The array on the bracelet unraveled—its effects vanished.

Now the real work could begin…

Mo Hua's eyes shimmered. A ghostly shadow appeared behind him. His pupils darkened, and even the projection of his divine sense within his sea of consciousness was now cloaked in a strange "Dao robe."

His divine sense surged like a tidal wave.

The spirit ink floated from its bottle, refined into threads, then slipped into the ground—merging with the earth, wriggling forward like thin wires… or blood serpents… sneaking layer by layer outward…

Dusk fell, the sky dimmed.

The others were completely unaware that something terrifying was weaving its way through the soil like a spider's web—quietly spreading, silently forming…

...

The spirit meat was tender, so it didn't take long to cook.

Very soon, Mo Hua had the meat ready.

He filled a large bowl—big enough to cover his face—and carried it out, sitting by himself as he ate meat and drank soup, happily munching away.

The others quietly watched him.

They were surprised that this little brat really could cook, and even more surprised that the food actually smelled… pretty good.

But no one disturbed him.

To them, no matter how well he ate, it was just a bowl of a "head-chopper's meal."

When a child is sold off, who knows what kind of buyer they'll fall into the hands of?

Maybe they'd be raised, maybe enslaved, or worse—used for alchemy, talisman crafting, or artifact refinement...

Whether they lived or died—who could say?

So calling it a "last supper" wasn't wrong.

Mo Hua finished the whole big bowl of meat. His belly was round and full, the soup warmed his body, and he felt completely satisfied.

Then, he poured himself a cup of wine, held it with both hands, and walked over to Jiang Laoda to offer a toast.

Jiang Laoda was a bit surprised.

Mo Hua held the wine solemnly and said seriously:

"Thank you, big brothers, for taking care of me all this way.

I offer this toast—to see you all off on your journey."

He lifted the bowl and downed it in one gulp.

Jiang Laoda chuckled, but inwardly sneered. Still, he raised his bowl—until midway through drinking, a thought hit him.

See them off…?

What journey…?

Jiang Laoda froze for a moment.

At the same time, while everyone's attention was on his "toast," Mo Hua silently shattered a bag of spirit stones and used his divine sense to activate the formation.

A surge of spiritual power pulsed out.

Jiang Laoda instantly sensed something was wrong. His gaze turned sharp as he lunged at Mo Hua, arm outstretched to grab him.

But in that instant, a misty veil of water wrapped around Mo Hua—intangible, formless, and elusive.

Jiang Laoda's grasp landed only on vapor. It felt like clutching fog—hazy, empty, nothing solid.

The next moment, Mo Hua had already darted to a corner.

Like a startled swan, flowing like water, his movement was elegant yet ghostly, real yet illusory.

"What kind of movement technique is this?!"

Jiang Laoda was shocked.

He was just about to chase again—when his peripheral vision caught something that made his eye twitch violently.

The ground—somehow—was covered in densely packed, deep-red, profound runes.

Under the fading light of dusk, they glowed like blood, spiritual energy flowing through them like molten lava.

They formed a massive formation, encircling everyone.

"A killing formation?!"

Jiang Laoda's heart trembled violently. His eyes were filled with disbelief.

Author's Note on Updates:

Although it's one chapter per day, the word count is close to that of two chapters.

I don't like cutting scenes awkwardly, so I don't split chapters midway.

Writing long novels, especially later on, tends to bring fatigue and frustration. I have to pace myself—I can't write too aggressively and burn out.

The current update schedule is designed to ensure I can follow the outline and finish this book properly.

My energy is limited. I can't afford to overdraw it.

When my mood and state improve, I'll try to write more again.

I know some readers feel things are progressing slowly—believe me, I feel that pain too. But this is as fast as I can go...

If the pacing really gets on your nerves, I can only, with tears in my eyes, suggest you let the chapters build up for a while. 🙇

Very sorry. (shameful.jpg)

(End of Chapter)