Chapter 816 – Old Grudge
Words are powerless.
Only when your hand grips a sword do you gain the right to speak.
And the sharper your sword, the more confident your words.
Now, with killing formations densely layered around the mountain cave, Mo Hua felt far more qualified to speak.
"You. Come out," Mo Hua said blandly.
The person inside the cave didn't know exactly what Mo Hua had done outside, but he could faintly sense a surge of killing intent—and a heavy, unsettling pressure.
"Fellow Daoist, to be honest, this old man is seriously injured and can barely walk. It's truly inconvenient to come out…"
"If you don't mind, perhaps you could come into the cave for a chat?"
Mo Hua snorted coldly in his heart.
Yeah right.
This person's origin was unknown, and who knew what dangers lurked inside that cave? Only a fool would charge in unprepared.
"I'm not going in. You come out," Mo Hua said firmly.
"Fellow Daoist, this old man is truly too injured to move… please be understanding," the aged voice pleaded apologetically.
Mo Hua shook his head and said coldly, "I'm not here to hear excuses, reasons, or explanations. You have five breaths. Two options. Either walk out on your own—or I blast the cave and drag you out."
The person inside the cave was furious.
"Damn it… ran into a stubborn little fox who won't budge. This one's hard to deal with…"
Outside, Mo Hua had already started counting down.
From five to one—no matter who was in that cave, he was ready to blow it up without hesitation.
Time was precious. He didn't intend to waste it.
"Five… four…"
The man inside sensed Mo Hua's absolute resolve. His expression changed and he quickly said, "Wait! Fellow Daoist, let's talk…"
"Three…"
"Fine! I'm coming out!"
The elderly voice called out repeatedly.
Mo Hua finally stopped counting, but his expression remained alert. Spiritual power circulated in his body—one stream gathered at his fingertips, ready to release a Fireball at the slightest threat. Two other currents flowed to his feet, prepared to flee at the first sign of danger.
A moment later, rustling could be heard from within the cave. Someone was rising, followed by faint footsteps and the tap of a bamboo cane.
The sound drew closer.
In just a few breaths, a figure appeared at the mouth of the cave.
Moonlight fell on him, and Mo Hua could roughly make out the man's face.
He was an elderly man—short and thin—with a gloomy expression under the pale moonlight and a cold glint in his eyes.
He leaned on a bamboo staff, his breath weak, and his steps unsteady. He truly did look injured.
As Mo Hua observed him, the old man also caught sight of Mo Hua—and was visibly stunned.
He had already guessed, from the voice alone, that the person outside might be quite young, but actually seeing Mo Hua's youthful face left him somewhat speechless.
Someone who acted so flawlessly and spoke with such stubborn arrogance… turned out to be a green-faced little brat?
And judging by his aura, he was only at mid-stage Foundation Establishment.
In fact, his spiritual strength was on the weaker end of that stage.
The old man couldn't help feeling angry.
A堂堂 Core Formation cultivator, now reduced to this sorry state, cornered by a mere Foundation cultivator brat—this is outrageous!
Just as he prepared to take a step forward, Mo Hua said coldly: "That's enough. Don't move."
The old man stopped. Looking around, he suddenly realized—he was standing right in the middle of a web of overlapping killing formations. His eyelid twitched violently.
Second-rank high-tier formations!
Murderous intent seeped through the air—dangerous and hard to ignore.
Whatever anger he felt vanished instantly. His tone softened significantly as he replied, "Very well."
Sometimes, you just have to bow your head.
He didn't know how this Foundation brat had managed to lay down so many high-tier second-rank killing formations in such a short time…
But a formation was a formation.
It didn't listen to reason.
Even in a third-grade province, a Core Formation cultivator wouldn't want to get caught in such a mess of killing arrays.
And this was a second-grade province, where cultivation was suppressed.
On top of that, he was already severely injured, fleeing for days, like a candle flickering in the wind.
The old man's eyes turned gloomy. He lifted his head slightly and looked at Mo Hua before giving a cupped-fist salute.
"May I ask for your name, young friend? From what lineage do you come? Who is your master?"
Mo Hua shook his head. "I ask, you answer."
The old man twitched slightly, but nodded. "Fine."
"What's your surname?" Mo Hua asked.
The old man's expression didn't change. "I am surnamed Zhao."
"Your name?"
"A single character—Hai."
"You're not from this Qianxue Province, are you?" Mo Hua narrowed his eyes.
"You're correct," the old man said. "I come from west of Qianxue Province, south of Chaoyun Province. I am an elder of the third-grade Zhao Clan…"
Zhao Hai, elder of the third-grade Zhao Clan.
Mo Hua nodded slightly.
This old guy was just like him—spouting lies without even blinking, making things up on the fly without missing a beat.
He probably wasn't surnamed Zhao. And definitely not called Zhao Hai.
As for "south of Chaoyun Province, third-grade Zhao Clan elder"? That was likely ten thousand li of nonsense. Mo Hua couldn't tell whether it was true or not, and didn't care.
"Elder Zhao," Mo Hua returned the cupped-fist gesture politely.
The old man returned the gesture as well. "May I ask, young friend, your—"
"I'm not done asking," Mo Hua cut him off.
The old man froze for a moment, then forced himself to stay patient. "Please, go ahead."
Mo Hua stared at the self-proclaimed Elder Zhao and asked, "Who injured you?"
The old man sighed. "A group of rogue demonic cultivators. I don't know why they attacked me. I was caught off guard and gravely wounded."
"Oh." Mo Hua nodded, neither accepting nor rejecting the claim, then asked:
"Why did you teach…"
He paused, choosing not to say Xiao Shunzi and Xiao Shuizi by name, pretending not to know them.
"…why did you teach those two children earlier your cultivation technique and spell?"
"Young friend, you know those children?" the old man asked, puzzled.
Mo Hua simply stared at him silently.
The message was clear: I ask. You answer. You're not in a position to be asking questions.
The old man's eyelid twitched slightly. Then he sighed and said sentimentally:
"I was healing in this cave when those two children brought me food and water out of kindness. Their sincerity touched me—it's rare to find such good-hearted children."
"I thought perhaps I could pass down a portion of my Zhao Clan's legacy to them, in return for their kindness… as a form of karmic closure."
Mo Hua nodded slightly on the surface—but inside?
Still spouting nonsense…
Children from poor families never have a full belly—if they have something to eat, they'd sooner scarf it down themselves than save it for a stranger.
As for all that talk about karmic ties and good fortune? Complete hogwash.
Do you even know what karma is? What a "good karmic bond" means?
The old man watched Mo Hua's expression closely, unsure if the boy had believed him or not. He cautiously asked:
"Young friend, I've answered your questions… could it be that I may now—?"
Mo Hua nodded. "Since you've answered, I won't make things difficult. I'll remove the formations."
The old man breathed a sigh of relief and turned to return to the cave.
But Mo Hua's gaze suddenly sharpened. His voice grew cold:
"You're from the Water Prison Sect!"
The moment those three words were spoken, the old man's pupils shrank. A subtle flicker passed through his fingers, and three water needles shot toward Mo Hua at lightning speed, each launched from an extremely tricky angle.
But Mo Hua had already sensed the killing intent.
This old thing had murderous intentions from the very beginning.
At the instant the attack was unleashed, Mo Hua used his Flowing Water Step, a nimble sidestep carrying spiritual agility, dodging the deadly strike with ease.
What a fluid footwork technique!
The old man saw his ambush fail and immediately shifted, trying to charge forward.
But Mo Hua raised a finger in midair—moisture gathered, and a water prison descended, binding the old man in a tight cage.
In the next moment, though, a flash of blue light surged from the old man's body. Water energy surged, and he easily shattered the water prison.
After breaking free, the old man's expression flickered.
Water Prison Technique?!
And not just any use of it—it was executed with remarkable proficiency.
He stared at Mo Hua in disbelief. "Who exactly are you?"
Mo Hua landed and stood firm, replying calmly:
"So you really are from the Water Prison Sect…"
The Water Prison Technique was a secret art of the Water Prison Sect.
Up to now, only two people had ever broken free of Mo Hua's version of it.
One was Water Yama. The other—was this very old man.
Water Yama must be connected to the Water Prison Sect.
And now, it was clear this old man was too.
The old man stared intently at Mo Hua, his expression ever-shifting, unsure whether Mo Hua was friend or foe.
"A senior real person (zhenren) from my sect once saved a descendant of the Yu Clan and was gifted the secret manual of the Water Prison Technique. That's how I came to learn it," Mo Hua explained briefly.
But when the old man heard the words "real person (zhenren)," he froze.
Zhenren—a title used for those at the Nascent Soul (Yu Hua) stage.
If this kid's sect had such a figure, his background was far from simple.
Even if not from a top-tier sect, he was at least from one of the Hundred Great Sects of Qianxue Province.
The Water Prison Sect had once flourished, but that was centuries ago. Now, it was a fallen sect with no standing. There was no comparison.
The old man's attitude softened even more.
"If there's such a connection, then this old man has been too forward. My earlier actions were reckless. Please forgive me, little brother… but…"
His expression grew serious. "The matters of the Water Prison Sect… I beg you not to investigate further. The situation is far too complicated—this is not something you can afford to get involved in."
Mo Hua raised an eyebrow. "Someone's hunting you?"
The old man's face darkened. "I already said… please don't—"
"I can help you," Mo Hua said.
"Help me?" the old man was stunned, then scoffed. "Do you have any idea how deep these waters run?"
Mo Hua nodded. "I have a rough idea."
The old man sneered.
A brat still wet behind the ears—what would you know?
The past of the Water Prison Sect isn't something you can just dabble in. Getting involved carelessly will only bring you to ruin.
Mo Hua said calmly, "In my sect, there's Elder Dongxu, senior real persons, and several Core Formation elders who all treat me favorably."
"I know people in the noble clans too, and even in the Dao Court Division, I have connections."
"If you tell me everything, maybe I really can help you. But if you don't…"
Mo Hua's gaze fell on the man's glabella, where a faint black line twisted ominously. His tone turned firm.
"You probably won't survive the next two months."
The old man was completely stunned.
He hadn't expected this young-looking cultivator to have such extensive connections.
And more importantly, when Mo Hua spoke, he radiated a calm, steady confidence—not the bravado of a liar.
If he weren't truly capable and well-connected, he couldn't bluff with this kind of composure.
This boy is likely from a great clan… or a major sect…
Definitely not someone I can afford to offend.
And what he said wasn't wrong.
The old man himself knew—if he kept hiding, it wouldn't be long before he reached a dead end.
And his long-held ambitions… remained unfulfilled.
The old man's expression turned conflicted, but at last, he sighed. "Very well. Ask whatever you wish. If I know it, I'll tell you."
"If afterward you're willing to help, that would be best. If not, I only ask that you leave quietly… and don't reveal my whereabouts."
"Deal," Mo Hua nodded.
This old guy might be shady, but at least he's being honest now.
"You're not really surnamed Zhao, are you?" Mo Hua asked.
The old man cupped his fists. "Forgive me, young friend. We met as strangers—it wouldn't be proper to reveal my true name then."
"Your surname is also Yu?"
The old man paused for a moment… then nodded. "Yes. My name is Yu Canghai."
"Yu Canghai…"
Mo Hua memorized the name, then asked, "Who's trying to kill you?"
The old man's expression twisted into deep hatred. "It's… the Yin Water Sect."
"Yin Water Sect?"
Mo Hua was stunned.
He hadn't expected this to involve them too.
But… wait a second… something didn't quite add up…
Mo Hua frowned. "Did you see it with your own eyes—disciples of the Yin Water Sect chasing after you?"
The old man shook his head. "The Yin Water Sect wouldn't do it themselves. They lurk in the shadows. The ones actually hunting me are desperate rogue cultivators they hired."
Mo Hua's pupils narrowed slightly. "Do you have any proof?"
The old man sneered. "What proof do I need? The current upper echelon of the Yin Water Sect is made up of traitors from the Water Prison Sect! They betrayed us, joined the Dao Court, and after the Water Prison Sect was destroyed, they stole our legacy and rebranded it—replacing 'Water Prison Sect' with the name 'Yin Water Sect.' Now they've become one of the Twelve Lesser Sects!"
"There's a blood feud between the Yin Water Sect and my Water Prison Sect! To cover up the shame of the past, these beasts from the Yin Water Sect want to wipe out every last descendant of the Water Prison Sect!"
Mo Hua's expression remained calm, but inside he was deeply shaken.
He had no idea that such history existed between the Water Prison Sect and Yin Water Sect.
So then… was the Yu Clan's waterside stronghold also targeted because of Yin Water Sect's manipulations?
Mo Hua quietly mused:
"The relationships between sects and noble clans are truly twisted and entangled. Without digging into them personally, you'd never imagine how deep the connections go."
Then he frowned again. "But when the Water Prison Sect was destroyed a thousand years ago, the official story was… that your whole sect fell to demonic cultivation. Was that true?"
The old man replied firmly, "Of course not. That was a false charge—a setup!"
His tone was resolute.
But when Mo Hua pressed him—"Then what really happened?"—the old man began to stammer, unable to give a clear answer.
Mo Hua quickly understood.
He likely didn't know the truth either. He was just clinging to the belief that his sect couldn't have been evil, and was simply trying to defend its honor.
After all, it happened over a millennium ago. This old man was only at the Core Formation stage—he couldn't have lived that long, let alone know the full truth.
"Then when the Water Prison Sect was destroyed, didn't everyone get thrown into prison? How are there still survivors?"
Mo Hua asked curiously.
The old man sighed. "When a great tree falls, the monkeys scatter. A sect is like a massive tree with countless branches. There were elders, inner disciples, countless ties through marriage to noble families… The entanglements ran deep. It's impossible to cleanly wipe it all out."
"They just executed or imprisoned the top leaders—the sect master, main elders, inner sect disciples. That was enough to make a statement."
"Many others, those with loose connections or enough money to bribe the right people, were let off lightly. Even the Dao Court would turn a blind eye."
"Some cultivators of the Yu Clan survived through such means…"
His expression turned bleak.
"But even so, we could only live in hiding, disguising ourselves, never daring to return to Qianzhou…"
Mo Hua asked, "So why did you come back?"
The old man's face twisted with sorrow. "Because… there's almost no one left."
"We wandered from place to place, barely scraping by. Then a catastrophe struck, and nearly the entire bloodline of the Yu Clan was wiped out…"
"With the bloodline on the verge of extinction, and no one left to carry on the Water Prison legacy, I had no choice. I risked everything to return to Qianzhou, hoping to find some trace of any surviving descendants."
"By some miracle, I actually found them…"
But instead of relief or joy, the old man's face darkened with deeper pain.
Mo Hua's pupils contracted.
The words 'Yu Clan's waterside stronghold' surfaced in his mind again.
Then, the way he looked at the old man changed—he now felt a trace of sympathy and sorrow.
He could more or less guess what had happened next.
The old man found the Yu Clan stronghold. But in doing so, he exposed them—revealing their identity as descendants of the Water Prison Sect.
That fact might have been unknown even to the people of the stronghold themselves.
If it weren't, their ancestral water-based arts wouldn't have been passed down without even a name.
This old man had found his kin… but because of that…
The Yu Clan stronghold was massacred.
The old man's expression was filled with sorrow and despair.
He clearly knew what he'd done.
He had wanted to pass on the sect's legacy—but instead, he brought about its total annihilation.
The struggle over legacies… is cold and ruthless.
The old man's heart twisted in anguish, and he coughed up a mouthful of blood.
Mo Hua handed him a pill. "Was that also done by the Yin Water Sect?"
The old man took the pill but didn't swallow it. Instead, he ground his teeth and snarled:
"Of course it was the Yin Water Sect!"
"Those damned beasts!"
"One day, I'll make them pay in blood! I'll make sure they die with no graves, and use their flesh and blood to honor the ancestors of the Water Prison Sect!"
Mo Hua stayed silent.
The old man was starting to sound like a demonic cultivator.
But—if you haven't suffered someone's pain, don't ask them to be kind.
If he were in the same shoes, he might've acted even more ruthlessly.
"You haven't reported any of this to the Dao Court Division?" Mo Hua asked.
To his surprise, the old man's expression twisted. A mocking grin crawled across his face, and he laughed hoarsely like a night owl.
"You want to guess… how the Yin Water Sect found out who I was? How they tracked me down? How they managed to wipe out the Yu Clan's stronghold without anyone noticing?"
Mo Hua's pupils contracted violently. A chill ran through his heart.
"You mean—"
The old man sneered, "If we're talking about filth… there's no place filthier in this world than the Dao Court Division."
(End of this Chapter)