Chapter 42: The Path of the Heart
Mist curled through the mountain paths. Within the mist, a courtyard appeared. At the entrance stood a simple bamboo gate, and from it stretched a winding path, reaching right to Mo Hua's feet.
It all looked… perfectly ordinary.
Mo Hua stepped onto the path. The moment his foot touched the ground, he felt a subtle fluctuation in his divine sense—like something had just been triggered.
But when he looked around, the mountains were still mountains, the trees still trees, the flowers still blooming. Nothing seemed to have changed.
He paused and surveyed his surroundings again. Still nothing out of place.
He had heard of powerful cultivators setting up formation traps or mental trials to test others. Maybe the person on this mountain was the same kind of eccentric?
Or… could the path itself already be part of the trial?
A strange nervousness welled up in Mo Hua's chest.
Since this was likely a formation master's domain, and there had been a ripple in his divine sense, the path almost certainly held a formation.
But what kind of formation?
With Mo Hua's limited formation experience, he had no clue. No matter how he looked around, nothing seemed unusual.
He kept walking, trying to stay calm and centered as his instructor had advised—maintaining a clear mind, going with the flow, neither forcing nor fearing.
Step by step, he soon reached the bamboo gate.
The gate was simple, yet had a certain quiet elegance to it.
Beyond the gate, the view opened up. A beautiful courtyard revealed itself: elegant bamboo dwellings, soft grass underfoot, misty ponds, and white cranes sipping dew. Just gazing upon it brought serenity to the soul.
In the courtyard stood an elderly man, thin and weathered.
Mo Hua quickly bowed and greeted him, "Greetings, Sir."
The old man's voice was as dry and rasping as he looked, like dead wood scraping in the wind:
"I am not the one you seek. The master is inside. Follow me."
He led Mo Hua into one of the bamboo residences. The interior was simple and airy, with wind flowing from all four sides.
In the center sat a middle-aged cultivator in white robes—exceptionally handsome, graceful in every movement, with an easy charm in his gaze. He radiated a sense of carefree elegance, as if nothing in the world could weigh on his mind.
He was the most otherworldly man Mo Hua had ever seen.
The man looked up and smiled kindly. "You must be Mo Hua. Instructor Yan told me about you. I'll ask, and you'll answer—no need to be nervous. Just say what's on your mind."
Mo Hua bowed. "Yes, Sir."
The man said, "My surname is Zhuang. You may call me Master Zhuang."
Mo Hua bowed again. "Master Zhuang."
Master Zhuang nodded slightly. "When you walked that little mountain path just now—what did you see?"
Mo Hua thought for a moment. "There were mountains, trees, flowers, grass… and the path."
Master Zhuang raised an eyebrow with interest. "Nothing else? No people? No visions? Nothing unusual?"
Mo Hua shook his head.
Master Zhuang said, "There was a formation on that path—a gift from an old friend of mine. It's called the Water Mirror Array. When walked for the first time, it reveals hints of one's fate—or even glimpses of the future."
Mo Hua's heart jumped.
A formation that could reveal fate? Or predict the future?
Then… why had he seen nothing?
Did that mean… he had no future?
Anxious, Mo Hua recalled his instructor's advice and replied honestly, "I… didn't see anything at all."
Master Zhuang's eyes flickered in surprise, but he nodded. "I see."
He then pulled out a formation diagram and said, "Here's ink and paper. Try to draw this formation—do as much as you can."
Mo Hua glanced at the diagram—it was the Stillwater Array, the same one Instructor Yan had used in the last exam.
"Yes, sir."
Mo Hua picked up the brush and began copying the array.
An hour later, his divine sense was completely depleted, and still, he could only draw five and a half runes.
It had only been a few days since his last attempt. His spiritual sense hadn't grown fast enough to draw a full sixth rune yet.
This version was more refined—his strokes cleaner, his technique more practiced—but the result was essentially the same.
Master Zhuang examined the drawing, raised his brow slightly, and said:
"Not bad. Would you like to become my registered disciple? I won't teach you the sect's secret arrays, but if you're interested in learning formations commonly used throughout the cultivation world, I can teach you all of those."
Mo Hua was stunned—he had passed the test?
Delighted, he immediately bowed deeply. "Thank you, Sir. I would be honored!"
In the cultivation world, there were two types of disciples:
Registered disciples, who referred to their teacher as Sir and learned only what the master chose to teach.
Personal disciples, who called their master Shifu and received direct, lifelong guidance. That bond was deep and sacred.
Even though Mo Hua would only be a registered disciple, he was deeply grateful for the opportunity.
Master Zhuang nodded. "Go home for today. Come back at the hour of the dragon (7–9 a.m.) tomorrow, and I'll begin teaching you formations."
"Yes, Sir!"
Mo Hua gave a respectful disciple's bow and left the courtyard with a light step.
At the base of the mountain, Instructor Yan was still waiting. When he heard that Master Zhuang had accepted Mo Hua as a disciple, he finally relaxed, and said warmly:
"You're fortunate to be chosen by Master Zhuang. Treasure this opportunity well. He's a true master—treat him with utmost respect."
"Yes, Instructor," Mo Hua replied.
As they walked down the mountain path together, Mo Hua suddenly asked, "Instructor, have you ever been to Master Zhuang's courtyard? What did you see when you walked that path?"
Instructor Yan looked at him silently for a moment, then said:
"When I walked that path, I glimpsed fleeting visions. They told me that Master Zhuang would accept you… and that one day, you would become a truly great formation master."
As he finished, they reached a fork in the road—the path ahead led back to Tongxian City.
Instructor Yan turned and looked at Mo Hua seriously.
"Mo Hua," he said solemnly, "Formation masters pursue the Dao of Heaven. But Heaven is boundless, and human life is finite. Only by passing knowledge down from generation to generation can we ever hope to understand the Dao—and bring its blessings to all."
"If one day, you become a first-grade—or even higher—formation master, and you meet someone with a good heart and talent for formations, I hope you won't hesitate to guide them. The path of formations is like water: it must flow to endure. Otherwise, it becomes stagnant and lifeless."
Mo Hua felt the weight of those words settle on his shoulders.
He bowed deeply. "I will remember, Instructor."
Instructor Yan smiled, pleased.
Then Mo Hua asked, "Instructor… are you leaving Tongxian City?"
Instructor Yan nodded. "I can't stay in Tongxian Sect anymore. And I have some personal matters to attend to. I'll be leaving soon."
"Will I see you again?"
Instructor Yan looked into Mo Hua's bright, clear eyes and smiled. "Let fate decide."
He reached out and gently patted Mo Hua's head. "Go home. Tell your parents the good news."
Mo Hua walked toward the city gate. After a few steps, he turned and bowed deeply to Instructor Yan once more.
Instructor Yan waved gently. "Go on."
He stood there, watching until Mo Hua's figure grew small, then finally turned and walked away.
At that moment, Mo Hua also turned to look back—once more bowing deeply.
Instructor Yan's silhouette slowly disappeared into the misty mountains.
(End of Chapter)