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Chapter 684: The Three-Colored Carp
Chapter 684: The Three-Colored Carp
Mo Hua's pupils contracted slightly as a chilling sensation crept up his spine.
"Is that... the aura of an evil god?"
Could it be that this small fishing village was harboring an evil god tainted with blood corruption?
Mo Hua's eyes darkened, his pupils reflecting a deep abyss where intricate threads of white destiny lines crisscrossed. Despite the obscuring nature of the blood mist, he peered intently into the village.
The blood-red village exuded an eerie loneliness, shrouded in a haze that concealed the secrets within.
"Should I venture deeper?"
Mo Hua took a step forward, his curiosity pulling at him. But suddenly, a warning bell rang in his heart, jolting him back to his senses.
"Something's not right."
Mo Hua's gaze turned stern.
"Something is luring me in..."
He knew he couldn't give in to the temptation. The mist was a clear sign of hidden dangers, and who knew what lurked within. There might be the remains of an evil god, but what level of power did it possess? Were there corrupted cultivators or followers of the evil god lurking in the shadows, and how many? What were their cultivation levels?
With so many unknown variables, it would be foolish to act rashly, especially since he was alone and merely a Foundation Establishment cultivator. Sometimes, discretion was the better part of valor.
Mo Hua reined in his curiosity and slowly backed away from the village, step by step.
Only when he had retreated beyond the village and set foot on the soil outside did he notice that the blood mist had dissipated.
Under the cover of night, the small fishing village appeared tranquil, its flickering lights dotting the darkness. Yet, Mo Hua's brows furrowed even deeper.
"What exactly happened in this village?"
The night was still young, but Mo Hua hesitated to step into the darkness tainted by blood corruption.
Evil gods were not to be taken lightly.
Cultivators possessed a vast array of knowledge, and the path of the gods was equally profound.
He recalled Huang Shan Jun's lecture on the subject, and while he understood most of it, there were parts that eluded him.
After all, he was a mortal, not a god by birth, and his understanding of divine taboos was limited.
To assume that he could defy evil gods and vanquish them based on a few snippets of information from Huang Shan Jun would be foolish and arrogant.
Thus, caution was imperative.
He wouldn't engage in a battle without preparation.
Mo Hua nodded to himself.
This was a basic tenet for demon hunters when hunting demons, and it would also be his first rule when it came to hunting evil gods.
Mo Hua climbed up a tree, keeping the village in his line of sight. Suppressing the questions swirling in his mind, he closed his eyes to rest and recover.
His spiritual sense sank into his sea of consciousness, and he continued his practice of array formations on the stone stele.
Guo Jiang Long had entered the village, his trail obscured by the blood mist.
But regardless of what he was up to, he would eventually emerge.
Mo Hua was determined to wait at the village entrance; there was no way he would miss him.
Time passed slowly as Mo Hua waited patiently. However, as the sky gradually brightened and the first rays of dawn streaked the horizon, there was still no sign of Guo Jiang Long in the village.
"How strange..."
Mo Hua muttered to himself, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the village once more.
With the rising sun, the light pierced through the moist air, illuminating the humble village.
The village was dilapidated and rundown, but as the new day dawned, life stirred within the simple dwellings.
Cultivators rose from their slumber, fishermen mended their nets, and children played and cried—a typical morning in a humble fishing village.
Smoke rose from chimneys, signaling the start of a new day.
Despite its poverty, the village exuded an air of normalcy, a stark contrast to the eerie atmosphere of the previous night.
Mo Hua hesitated to enter the village directly, opting instead to remain hidden in the tree. From his vantage point, he observed the daily lives of the fishing cultivators, a somber expression on his face. After a while, he let out a soft sigh.
The life of a fishing cultivator was indeed arduous.
Like most wandering cultivators, they toiled endlessly just to survive.
Their lives were a constant struggle, leaving little room for anything beyond mere existence.
Longevity, let alone immortality, seemed like a distant dream.
Mo Hua's heart went out to them.
Aside from the ordinary fishing cultivators, he detected no other cultivators in the village, including Guo Jiang Long, who had disguised himself as a burly man.
"Where did Guo Jiang Long go?"
Mo Hua's confusion deepened.
He waited a while longer, but still, there was no sign of the man. Before he knew it, midday had arrived, and the aroma of cooking wafted through the village once more.
Most wandering cultivators from humble backgrounds focused on physical cultivation, starting from a young age. As adults, they often performed manual labor, which demanded a hearty lunch to sustain their energy.
Thus, lunch tended to be a more substantial meal than breakfast.
Even though the food might not be luxurious, the tantalizing aromas drifting from the homes were hard to resist.
Mo Hua's stomach rumbled softly, reminding him that he was hungry.
His eyes scanned the village, and suddenly, he spotted a familiar face—the elderly fishing cultivator whom he had helped with an array formation and who had invited him over for a meal.
The old man was at home, preparing a fish stew with his large family gathered around him.
Food was a priority, and it was a perfect opportunity to ask some questions.
Mo Hua leaped down from the tree and, seeing that no one was around, revealed himself. With a relaxed expression, he strolled into the village.
Guo Jiang Long had never seen his face.
During the ambush in the woods, Mo Hua had remained hidden, and although he had shown his face briefly when he intercepted them later, it had been partially obscured.
Thus, there was little chance that Guo Jiang Long would recognize him.
Even if the man spotted him now, he wouldn't suspect that this young cultivator was following him.
With a calm demeanor, Mo Hua walked casually into the village, his steps light and carefree.
He wasn't wearing the Daoist robe of Tai Xu Men, just a simple set of plain clothes. His fair features and amiable expression made him seem approachable, and his confident stride suggested that he felt right at home in the village.
The fishing cultivators he passed along the way saw no cause for suspicion; they merely spared him a few extra glances, drawn to his handsome features and youthful charm.
And so, Mo Hua seamlessly blended into the village. As he approached the elderly cultivator's home, he slowed his pace.
The fisherman called out again, "Young brother, it's me!"
Mo Hua turned around, feigning surprise, and said, "Grandpa?"
The fisherman smiled broadly and invited him in, "Come, come, I just made some fish soup. It's fresh, come and have a taste."
Mo Hua shyly replied, "Then I'm sorry to trouble you."
The fisherman frowned, "What trouble? Young brother, you helped us fix our fishing net. It's only right that I invite you to have some fish soup."
After saying that, he immediately introduced Mo Hua to his entire family, "This young brother here is a disciple of a major sect and an incredible array master. He's the one who helped fix the array on our fishing net the other day..."
With these words, the entire family looked at Mo Hua with admiring eyes.
These fisherman cultivators came from humble backgrounds and had limited spiritual roots. None of their children had the opportunity to join a major sect.
And among them, there was not a single array master.
Another family member said, "Young brother, don't be shy. The soup will get cold and lose its freshness."
This person was the elderly cultivator's son, whom Mo Hua had met before.
Mo Hua smiled and replied, "Then I shall accept your kind offer."
And so, Mo Hua enjoyed a meal with the fishing family.
The fish soup was very fresh. Although it was simply made with few spices, the fish was freshly killed and boiled, resulting in an original and delicious flavor.
However, it did not contain much spiritual energy.
These were actually the lowest-grade spirit fish, relatively inexpensive, and used by lower-class fisherman cultivators to fill their stomachs.
Moreover, one could only taste it; it wasn't filling.
The staple food for these fisherman cultivators was a white-gray bread-like food that was bitter and hard but could ward off hunger.
Mo Hua only took a small bite and then stopped eating, as the taste was not pleasant.
However, these fisherman cultivators had to eat this bitter food along with the fish soup to fill their stomachs.
No matter how unpleasant it tasted, they had to eat it, or they wouldn't have the energy to go down to the river to catch fish.
Mo Hua sighed softly in his heart.
During the conversation, he learned that this family name was 'Yu', which was also one of the most common surnames in this small fishing village.
The elderly fisherman was called 'Old Yu', and he had reached the early stage of Foundation Establishment.
His eldest son, named 'Yu Dahe', was in the middle stage of Foundation Establishment, whom Mo Hua had met before.
Yu Dahe was married and had two sons, making it a three-generation household. Although they were poor, they were making the most of their lives.
"By the way, young brother," Old Yu suddenly asked out of curiosity, "What brings you to our village?"
Mo Hua, who was still drinking the fish soup, quickly came up with an excuse, "I want to buy a few more fishing nets. The one I bought last time broke when I caught a big fish."
"That's easy," Old Yu said without suspicion, "I'll get you a few later. We make them ourselves. The materials might be inferior, and they might look rough, but they're definitely durable."
Mo Hua smiled and said, "Thank you, Uncle Yu."
Then he asked with a puzzled look, "Uncle Yu, do you make all your fishing nets yourselves?"
Old Yu shook his head, "You can buy them at the artifact shops in the city, but they're too expensive. It's not worth spending those spirit stones."
"Since making fishing nets isn't too complicated, we just make them ourselves."
Old Yu sighed, "We fisherman cultivators are poor, and we have many things to spend spirit stones on. We have to save wherever we can..."
After saying that, Old Yu chuckled self-deprecatingly, "I'm just a stingy old man, young brother, please don't mind me."
Mo Hua shook his head, "When I was young, my family was also very poor, just like yours."
Old Yu paused, then took it as Mo Hua comforting them, and smiled kindly.
"By the way," Mo Hua asked, "Uncle Yu, do you often have outsiders coming to your village?"
Old Yu didn't suspect anything and pondered for a moment before answering,
"Not that often..."
"Occasionally, there are cultivators who come to buy fish, inquire about prices, or stay in the vacant houses for a while..."
"Vacant houses?" Mo Hua asked in confusion.
"Yeah." Old Yu had finished eating and took out a roll of bitter tobacco from somewhere. He took a silent puff and spoke casually:
"When someone dies, their house becomes vacant."
Mo Hua's eyes turned slightly solemn.
Old Yu smacked his lips and shook his head, "Being a fisherman cultivator is not a good livelihood. When the winds and waves are strong, people die. And even when the winds and waves are mild, people still die."
"A few years ago, there was a family of three. They went out to fish in the Misty River despite the strong winds and waves. Unfortunately, a huge wave hit their boat, and the father and son all sank to the bottom of the river and were eaten by water demons..."
"Their house has been vacant ever since..."
"Things like this happen every year. Some old fisherman cultivators are still alive and well, but their descendants have all perished; some couples have just gotten married, but the husband is pulled into a vortex and drowns, leaving the wife a widow; there are also times when there are months of strong winds and waves, and they can't go fishing, so they starve to death at home; and some fisherman cultivators find it too difficult and can't bear the hardship anymore, so they move out with their families to find another way to make a living. We don't know if they're dead or alive now..."
"So every year, some houses are left vacant..."
Old Yu took a puff of his tobacco, his emotions unmoved, as if he had become numb to it all.
"Can people still die even when the winds and waves are not strong?" Mo Hua asked again.
Old Yu gently coughed and sighed, "When the winds and waves are mild, fisherman cultivators can catch and raise more fish. But when there are more fish, the prices naturally drop, and they don't earn much more than they would during strong winds and waves..."
"They're still just as poor."
"Moreover, the family that runs the banquet halls in the city comes to extort protection money. If you agree, that's fine, but if you don't, you'll get a beating."
Mo Hua frowned. "Doesn't the Dao Court intervene in such matters?"
Old Yu shook his head, a bitter expression on his face. "You don't understand, young man. We're the kind of cultivators who don't reside in the immortal cities but live scattered outside. We don't have a 'cultivation registry.'"
"The Dao Court's management of unregistered cultivators is very lax. If a few of us go missing or die, no one will know."
"There have even been times when..."
Old Yu's eyes took on a distant look. "An entire village perishes, and the Dao Court might not find out for months."
A chill ran down Mo Hua's spine as he asked anxiously, "Has something like that happened before?"
Old Yu was taken aback. "What do you mean?"
Mo Hua lowered his voice. "An entire fishing village perishing..."
Old Yu forced a smile. "I was just saying that, kid. Don't take it too seriously..."
"Oh." Mo Hua breathed a silent sigh of relief.
But then, he furrowed his brows in confusion again. "Spiritual fish... they should be quite expensive, right? Why are the fishing cultivators still so poor?"
Mo Hua recalled that back in Qingzhou City, when Master Gu had treated him to a meal at the Immortal Crane Tower, a single dish of spiritual fish had been worth quite a few spirit stones.
Old Yu waved his hand dismissively. "Those were sold by the nearby families. A single spiritual fish can earn them a dozen or even a hundred spirit stones when sold to a dining establishment."
"But here, a first-grade spiritual fish only earns us a fraction of a spirit stone, and a second-grade one might bring in a single spirit stone at best..."
Old Yu sighed.
"Can't you sell them yourself?" Mo Hua asked.
Old Yu shook his head. "It's not that simple. One or two fish are manageable, but what about hundreds or thousands? If you don't sell them quickly, they'll spoil."
"Moreover, the nearby families have already formed a partnership. They decide the prices and yields for the year."
"We have no say in it."
"If we try to use other means to earn more spirit stones, they'll secretly take revenge..."
After he finished speaking, Old Yu looked at Mo Hua, his expression filled with concern. "So, young man, you must cultivate diligently within your sect. Only when your cultivation reaches a high level will no one dare to bully you."
Mo Hua looked at Old Yu, his feelings complicated.
While it was true that cultivators with high cultivation levels wouldn't be bullied, they would naturally turn into the bullies themselves.
And the ones they would bully are people like you...
The two of them chatted a bit more. After midday, the fishing cultivators had to return to work.
Yu Dahe went down to the river, while Old Yu seemed to have some business to attend to in the afternoon, so he stayed.
Since Mo Hua intended to wait for Guo Jiang Long in the fishing village anyway, he decided not to leave and sat in the courtyard, chatting idly with Old Yu.
Old Yu had lived a long life and had experienced many ups and downs.
"Life is hard now, but it's not too bad. At least we have our family together, and we have food to eat..."
"In the past, when the Yanshui River would flood, and there were storms every day, that was truly a miserable existence..."
"Oh?" Mo Hua listened intently.
As they were talking, a group of cultivators approached in the distance.
The man in front was of middle age, dressed respectably, and seemed to be at the initial stage of the Foundation Establishment realm. He walked with his head held high, likely a cultivator from one of the prominent families.
Following him were six others: one at the initial stage of Foundation Establishment and five at the ninth layer of Qi Refining, all with sturdy builds.
This group of cultivators walked straight into Old Yu's home.
Upon seeing them, Old Yu immediately put on a flattering smile and hurried forward, bowing even lower than before. "Greetings, Manager Wang. We're indebted to you."
The cultivator addressed as Manager Wang had his hands behind his back and his head held high, seemingly uninterested in speaking to Old Yu.
One of the men beside him asked, "Where's the fish?"
Old Yu nodded repeatedly. "Right here, right here."
He went back inside the house and bent down to pull out a coarse, woven fish basket. From within, he took out a carp with golden scales that shimmered like lotus petals. It was as long as a forearm and emanated a lustrous glow.
Manager Wang glanced at it and nodded in satisfaction.
One of his companions smiled and said, "Old Yu, not bad. Even at your age, you managed to catch this 'Golden Lotus Three-Colored Carp'..."
Old Yu's face was creased with smiles. "It was just luck. I risked my life in the face of strong winds and waves to catch this fish."
Manager Wang nodded as well. "Indeed. With this fish, the young master won't lose face when hosting the banquet for the sect's fellow disciples tonight."
One of Wang's subordinates took the fish basket from Old Yu and followed as Manager Wang turned to leave.
Old Yu watched reluctantly as they took away the precious three-colored carp that he had risked his life to catch, his heart filled with reluctance.
As Manager Wang turned to depart, the others followed suit.
Old Yu's expression changed slightly, but he quickly put on a smile again and said in a low, pleading tone, "Manager Wang, about the spirit stones..."
Manager Wang frowned.
One of the Wang family disciples behind him said, "Come to the Wang family in three days to collect them."
"But..."
"But what? Are you suggesting that our Wang family, a third-rate aristocratic family, can't afford to pay you?"
Old Yu gritted his teeth. "Eight thousand spirit stones is no small sum. I..."
Manager Wang ignored him and continued walking away.
Old Yu steeled himself and stood in front of Manager Wang, but he didn't dare to show anger. Instead, he kept smiling and pleading, "Manager, please be kind..."
"I really need those spirit stones urgently."
"I want to send my two grandsons to a sect so they can cultivate properly and won't have to endure the hardships I've gone through."
"I risked my life for this opportunity..."
"...I can't afford to wait for those spirit stones."
Manager Wang's face darkened, and he said disdainfully, "A mere eight thousand spirit stones. Are you suggesting that the Wang family can't afford it?"
"Of course, you can," Old Yu said hastily.
"Come to the Wang family in three days to collect them," Manager Wang said as he turned to leave.
Lao Yu dared not fight back. A five-fingered bruise formed on his face, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, but he persisted, clutching the fish basket and refusing to let go.
The smile had faded from his face, replaced by a blank stare. Only his eyes held a glimmer of determination, as if this fish basket were his sole hope for survival.
Manager Wang clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Damn old fool, acting like we won't give you the spirit stones. You're haggling over every little detail..."
He turned and instructed his men, "Take the fish and leave. If he blocks with his hands, chop them off. If he blocks with his body, cut him down. Don't make the young master's banquet wait..."
One of the disciples of the Wang family drew his sword.
Mo Hua's eyes turned cold, and anger rose within him. He was about to smash the bowl in his hand onto the ground, but he paused just before doing so.
The bowl in his hand was intact.
So, he picked another bowl with a chipped edge and threw it to the ground with force.
"Bang!"
Manager Wang and his group were startled and turned to see a young cultivator standing in the courtyard.
Mo Hua slowly rose to his feet, his head held high, a defiant and arrogant look on his face.
"Who are you, a bunch of good-for-nothings, to dare take my fish?" he demanded.
Manager Wang's face darkened with anger, but he noticed that although Mo Hua was dressed simply, there was an air of nobility about him, especially in the way he carried himself with such arrogance. This was not an act that a commoner could mimic. Manager Wang cupped his hands together and asked, "May I ask which esteemed family you are from, young master?"
Mo Hua thought for a moment and then replied arrogantly, "The Gu family!"
Manager Wang's eyes narrowed. "And from which branch of the Gu family?"
Mo Hua scoffed, "You have such short-sighted vision. How many Gu families are there in Qianzhou?"
Manager Wang hesitated, "The Gu family of Qingzhou City?"
Mo Hua nodded, "At least you, a simpleton, have some knowledge."
Manager Wang sneered, "If you're going to lie, at least make it believable. Just because I mentioned the Gu family of Qingzhou City, you claim to be from there? Who would believe that?"
"The sons of noble families are always accompanied by an entourage. Who have you ever seen traveling alone like you?"
Mo Hua looked down on them and said, "Why should I explain myself to you?"
Manager Wang's eyes narrowed further.
Mo Hua didn't bother with pleasantries and rudely pointed at him, ordering, "You, leave the fish and scram!"
He recalled that arrogant noble sons always acted in such a manner, bullying others without explanation.
Manager Wang was unsure how to proceed.
This young man's background was unclear, and it would be best not to make any hasty moves.
But if he didn't bring the fish back, how could he explain it to the young master?
Manager Wang quickly devised a plan and cupped his hands together, saying, "May I ask for your esteemed name, young master? That way, I can tell the young master that I gave the fish to you, and he will understand."
Mo Hua thought this made sense, so he said, "My name is Gu..."
But as the words left his mouth, he hesitated.
How did the Gu family name their generations?
If he used the "Chang" generation, wouldn't he be of the same generation as Uncle Gu? Would he have to call him Uncle Gu or Older Brother Gu from now on?
Aside from the "Chang" generation, what other generations were there?
Mo Hua was confused.
But in that moment of hesitation, Manager Wang realized that Mo Hua was lying and that he probably wasn't from a noble family at all.
"You little liar! How dare you be so bold! Take him!" Manager Wang shouted angrily.
At his command, several of the Wang family cultivators rushed towards Mo Hua with malicious intent.
Mo Hua sighed.
His acting as an arrogant noble son was lacking, as he had forgotten that such individuals rarely bothered with explanations and would simply resort to violence.
Direct action was the way...
Mo Hua reflected on his mistake and then pointed his finger, unleashing a Fireball Technique. In an instant, one of the Qi Refining cultivators was blasted away.
Manager Wang's expression turned grim.
This young man... was actually a Foundation Establishment cultivator? No wonder he couldn't see through his background.
He then said in a low voice, "Be careful!"
Even if he was at the Foundation Establishment stage, he was still just a young cultivator. How could he possibly defeat a group of family cultivators?
But before long, Manager Wang's expression changed drastically.
Mo Hua stood his ground, his fingers moving rapidly as he unleashed one spell after another. He started with simple spells to incapacitate the Qi Refining cultivators and then followed up with a barrage of more complex spells, including Golden Edge, Water Prison, Fireball, Quicksand, and Water Arrow.
Another Foundation Establishment cultivator from the Wang family charged forward, but after a brief exchange with Mo Hua, he was overwhelmed by the onslaught of spells and fell to the ground in a miserable state.
What powerful spells!
This young man was a Spirit Cultivator!
Wang's pupils contracted, and he was about to rush forward to engage Mo Hua in close combat, but before he knew it, he found himself immobilized and unable to move.
Mo Hua's eyes were cold as ice as he pointed at him from a distance.
Spell after spell surged forward relentlessly.
Manager Wang's scalp tingled, and not long after, he, too, fell to the ground.
In just a short while, Mo Hua had defeated the entire group of Wang family cultivators with his array of spells.
Mo Hua nodded in satisfaction.
He was now a disciple of a major sect, having learned the Daoist traditions of the Tai Xu Men and acquired a multitude of techniques from the criminal cultivators he had encountered.
Compared to these bullies from a minor family, he was on a completely different level.
Old Yu finally snapped out of his daze and looked at the Wang family cultivators lying on the ground, his eyes wide with shock.
He never would have imagined that this young man, who had come to his home for a free meal, possessed such formidable spells.
In just a few moments, all of the Wang family cultivators had been severely injured and knocked to the ground, and Mo Hua hadn't even needed to move from his spot.
(End of Chapter)
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