Chapter 26 Diligence_1

Translator: 549690339

Mo Hua would go to Instructor Yan after his daily classes to study array theory and ask questions about formations. With Instructor Yan’s explanations, Mo Hua learned the Gold Stone Formation very quickly, and combined with the ability to practice repeatedly on the stele in his Sea of Consciousness, it took him just over ten days to complete the five Gold and Stone Formation Diagrams.

Since he had plenty of time, Mo Hua drew carefully, so he failed only once and, after deducting the costs for materials, earned about twelve Spirit Stones.

During his rest days, Mo Hua handed the formations over to Manager Mo, who after inspecting them, nodded satisfactorily and said, “You… your brother’s formation paintings are increasingly systematic.”

Mo Hua looked at Manager Mo with suspicion.

For some reason, Manager Mo felt somewhat guilty under the gaze, coughed, and waved his hands, saying, “If there’s nothing else, go back to the Sect. I’m quite busy here.”

Mo Hua glanced at the empty Fated Gathering without a single customer and curiously asked, “There are no customers here, right? Manager Mo, what are you busy with?”

Manager Mo felt that his management style was more about zen-like business operations, which fundamentally differed from merely poor business.

But the absence of customers was indeed obvious at a glance.

Manager Mo became a bit irritated. “What does a kid know? The business I do here is significant; I’m busy whether there are customers or not! When I say I’m busy, I am busy!”

“Well then, Manager Mo, carry on with your work; I’ll take my leave,” Mo Hua said.

Mo Hua bid farewell and had walked a few steps before suddenly turning back to ask:

“By the way, Manager Mo, are you very familiar with Instructor Yan?”

Manager Mo felt a bit guilty and said, “Not really. We just share some fellow Sect-member camaraderie. He’s got a bad temper and is very stubborn. Not many normal people can stand him. We haven’t been in contact for many years, but we happened to meet a few days ago and had tea to catch up.”

“Oh…”

Mo Hua uttered an “oh” with profound implications.

One claims not to be close, yet speaks with such familiarity; this indicates a deep familiarity, at least not a light acquaintance.

Manager Mo hastened to wave his hands, “Hurry on, hurry on, don’t disrupt my business.”

Mo Hua left Fated Gathering, thinking to himself:

“It seems Manager Mo and Instructor Yan do have some sort of secret connection…”

After that, Mo Hua led a monotonous and ordinary Sect life, attending daily classes, consulting Instructor Yan on formation after class, painting formations back at the Disciple’s Residence, and practicing formations on the damaged stele in the Sea of Consciousness after midnight.

Simple yet fulfilling.

Mo Hua’s skills in formation steadily advanced, and his Divine Sense also grew deeper. At the very least, he could comfortably paint four-formation Patterns of the Gold Stone Formation, and it became more and more effortless, no longer feeling a shortage in Divine Sense.

The orders for Manager Mo’s formations changed a few times, each time with the excuse “the market conditions have changed; we won’t accept the previous formations anymore, you need to draw new ones,” and then provided Mo Hua with new Formation Diagrams.

When Instructor Yan instructed on array theory, he conveniently explained the formations given by Manager Mo to Mo Hua, practically spoon-feeding him.

This also essentially confirmed Mo Hua’s suspicion that Manager Mo and Instructor Yan must have a relationship, and chances are both the manager and the instructor were aware of the formations he painted for Fated Gathering.

However, everyone remained tacit, and Mo Hua pretended to be oblivious as well.

What puzzled Mo Hua was why the instructor was so attentive to him, endlessly answering questions about formations, and why Manager Mo provided so many conveniences.

Could it really be just because his talent in formations was exceptional?

Latter, Mo Hua reflected and felt that perhaps he was overthinking it.

Instructor Yan was a rigorous and serious person who was meticulous in both teaching and formations, and he never withheld knowledge from his disciples. His special attention to Mo Hua must have sprung from a desire to cherish his talent, unwilling to see it go to waste and his life pass in vain—truly hoping that Mo Hua could make significant progress in the study of formations.

Manager Mo had a relationship with Instructor Yan, and it must have been at Instructor Yan’s request that he had arranged for Mo Hua to progressively work on drawing formations.

Mo Hua quietly took note of the kindness from both individuals in his heart.

However, Mo Hua was still only a low-level Qi Refinement Third Level cultivator; he was incapable of doing much. Even if he wished to repay their kindness, he could only wait until the future.

Two more months passed, and in addition to the Gold Stone Formation, Mo Hua also learned the Mud Sand Formation, Quicksand Formation, and Ventilation Formation. Adding to the spirit stones he had saved from drawing formations, he had accumulated over one hundred and eighty stones.

Mo Hua planned to save up two hundred spirit stones and then choose a mid-tier, low-level cultivation technique. This would greatly relieve his parents’ burdens.

Once he had gathered enough spirit stones and chosen a suitable cultivation technique, he then planned to inform his parents, who would surely be happy.

But before Mo Hua could save up enough spirit stones, trouble arose at home.

One day during an alchemy class, Instructor Yan suddenly called out for Mo Hua. With a solemn expression, he told Mo Hua that his mother was critically ill and urged him to rush home to see her.

Mo Hua was stunned for a moment and then felt as if a cold bucket of water had been poured over him, leaving him chilled to the bone.

Mo Hua requested a few days’ leave from the instructor, then hurried back home.

But when he got there, the door to his house was closed. Mo Hua knocked several times without getting a response. As he grew anxious, the neighbor’s aunt came out upon hearing the noise and said:

“Is that you, Mo Hua?”

“Aunt Yang, my mother…”

“I was just about to tell you, your mother is critically ill and is being treated by Old Mr. Feng at the Apricot Forest Hall. Hurry up and go see her!”

Mo Hua thanked her repeatedly, then rushed towards Apricot Forest Hall.

Apricot Forest Hall was the only pill hall nearby.

With a Pill Master in residence, most cultivators with injuries or illnesses would go to the pill hall to have a Pill Master examine them and concoct pills to heal their injuries or cure their diseases.

Old Mr. Feng of the Apricot Forest Hall was a famed pill master in Tongxian City, having dedicated more than half his life to the study of the Alchemy Dao. In his later years, after passing the assessment, he became a true first-grade Pill Master, one of the few officially recognized Pill Masters in Tongxian City.

Additionally, Old Mr. Feng was the only Pill Master in Tongxian City who, even after becoming a first-grade Pill Master, was still willing to open a shop in the market town for loose cultivators and attend to patients.

When Mo Hua arrived at Apricot Forest Hall, Old Mr. Feng was already in attendance, treating patients.

Old Mr. Feng was dressed in an old, slightly faded black Taoist robe. With white hair and a beard, and an amiable expression, he saw Mo Hua and excused himself with a few words to the patient in front of him, then gestured for Mo Hua to approach.

Mo Hua hurried forward to pay his respects and said, “Greetings, Grandpa Feng! My mother, she…”

Old Mr. Feng nodded and replied, “Good child, I have looked into your mother’s illness. Although it’s quite serious, her life is not in danger. You can rest easy.”

Only then did Mo Hua breathe a sigh of relief. However, coming back to his senses, he felt a dry mouth and a burning throat.

Mo Hua had been frail since childhood. Having been in a rush and run too fast, he was now sweating profusely from the sudden stop.

Old Mr. Feng placed his right hand lightly on Mo Hua’s back, a faint azure light flickered from his hand, transferring some spiritual power, and Mo Hua felt as if a spring breeze had swept through his limbs, instantly easing his breathing.

Old Mr. Feng then poured a light cup of tea and instructed, “Drink a little at a time, slowly.”

Following Old Mr. Feng’s instructions, Mo Hua sipped the misty tea slowly until his breath became smooth once more.