Progress

After class each day, Mo Hua went to Instructor Yan to study array theory and ask questions about array techniques. With Instructor Yan's explanations, he learned the Metal-Stone Formation quickly. Coupled with being able to practice repeatedly on the stone stele in his Sea of Consciousness, it took him only a little over ten days to complete five Metal-Stone Formations.

With plenty of time, Mo Hua drew them carefully, so only one failed. After deducting material costs, he earned roughly twelve Spirit Stones.

During the ten-day break, Mo Hua handed the array techniques to Manager Mo. After looking them over, Manager Mo was quite satisfied and nodded. "Your... brother's array techniques are becoming more and more methodical."

Mo Hua looked at Manager Mo suspiciously.

For some reason, Manager Mo felt a little guilty under his gaze. He coughed and waved a hand. "If there's nothing else, go back to the sect. I'm very busy here."

Mo Hua looked at the empty Fate Pavilion, which did not have a single customer, and asked curiously, "There isn't a single customer here, is there? What are you busy with, Manager?"

Manager Mo felt that this was called running a business with a Buddhist mindset, not simply having poor business. There was an essential difference between the two.

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

Manager Mo grew a little angry. "What does a child know? All I handle here is big business. Busy or not, I'm busy! If I say I'm busy, then I'm busy!"

"Then you stay busy, Manager. I'll be going first."

Mo Hua bade him farewell. After taking a few steps, he suddenly turned back and asked:

"By the way, Manager, are you very familiar with Instructor Yan?"

Manager Mo answered somewhat guiltily, "Not that familiar. We merely share some fellowship as fellow disciples. That temper of his is foul and stubborn; normal people can hardly stand it. We haven't been in touch for many years. We just happened to run into each other some days ago, so we had tea together and caught up on old times."

"Oh..."

Mo Hua drew out that "oh" meaningfully.

He said they were not familiar, but his tone was thoroughly familiar. That meant they were very close—at the very least, their friendship was no shallow one.

Manager Mo hurriedly waved him off. "Go on, go on. Stop disturbing my business."

Mo Hua left Fate Pavilion and thought:

It seemed Manager Mo and Instructor Yan really did have something going on behind the scenes...

After that, Mo Hua lived a dull and ordinary sect life. Every day, he attended class; after class, he asked Instructor Yan about array techniques; after returning to the Disciple Quarters, he drew array techniques; and after midnight, he entered his Sea of Consciousness to practice array techniques on the Broken Stele.

Simple, yet fulfilling.

Mo Hua's mastery of array techniques improved by the day, and his divine sense grew deeper and deeper. At the very least, he now had more than enough divine sense to draw the four array patterns of the Metal-Stone Formation, and he became increasingly at ease, no longer feeling any shortage of divine sense.

Manager Mo's array technique orders also changed several times. Each time, his excuse was, "The market has changed. We're not taking the previous array techniques anymore; draw new ones instead." Then he would take out a new Array Diagram for Mo Hua.

Whenever Instructor Yan taught array theory, he would conveniently explain and analyze the array techniques Manager Mo had assigned to Mo Hua. For Mo Hua, it was practically like having food spooned right into his mouth.

This more or less confirmed Mo Hua's guess. Manager Mo and Instructor Yan must have had a private friendship, and the fact that he was drawing array techniques for Fate Pavilion was probably known to both the manager and the instructor.

But everyone tacitly understood, and Mo Hua pretended not to know.

What puzzled Mo Hua was why the instructor cared so much about him, answering every question he had about array techniques, while Manager Mo also gave him so many conveniences.

Could it really be only because he had decent talent in array techniques?

Later, Mo Hua thought it over and decided that he had probably been overthinking it.

Instructor Yan was rigorous and earnest in character, meticulous in both teaching and array techniques, and never held anything back when instructing disciples. He probably took such care of Mo Hua because he cherished talent, did not want him to waste his gifts and fritter away his life, and sincerely hoped that he could make progress in array techniques.

Since Manager Mo was friends with Instructor Yan, he was probably acting at Instructor Yan's request, gradually arranging array techniques for Mo Hua to draw.

Mo Hua silently remembered the kindness of both men.

It was just that he was still only a minor cultivator at Qi Refining Level Three, incapable of doing anything. Even if he wanted to repay this goodwill, he could only wait until later.

Two more months passed. Besides the Metal-Stone Formation, Mo Hua also learned the Mud-Sand Formation, the Quicksand Formation, and the Ventilation Formation. Together with the Spirit Stones he had saved from drawing array techniques before, he now had more than one hundred and eighty.

Mo Hua planned to save up two hundred Spirit Stones himself, then choose a lower-tier mid-grade cultivation method. That way, he could lessen his parents' burden considerably.

Once he had gathered enough Spirit Stones and chosen a cultivation method, he would tell his father and mother. They would probably be happier that way too.

But before Mo Hua could save enough Spirit Stones, something happened at home.

One day during alchemy class, Instructor Yan suddenly called Mo Hua outside. His expression was somewhat grave as he told Mo Hua that his mother was seriously ill and urged him to hurry home to see her.

Mo Hua froze for a moment, then felt as though a basin of cold water had been poured over his head, chilling him to the bone.

Mo Hua asked the instructor for several days of leave, then hurried home.

But the door to his home was shut. He knocked several times, yet no one answered. Just as he was growing anxious, the neighboring auntie came out upon hearing the sound and said:

"Is that Mo Hua?"

"Auntie Yang, my mother..."

"I was just about to tell you. Your mother is seriously ill and is receiving treatment from Elder Feng at Apricot Forest Hall. Hurry over and see her!"

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

Apricot Forest Hall was the only Pill Hall nearby.

Pill Halls had Alchemists stationed within them. Whenever cultivators were injured or fell ill, they would generally go to a pill shop, ask an Alchemist for a diagnosis, and have Pills refined to treat their wounds and illnesses.

Elder Feng of Apricot Forest Hall was a renowned old Alchemist in Immortal City. He had studied the alchemical path for most of his life, and in his later years, he had passed the grading examination to become a true First-Grade Alchemist. He was one of the few graded Alchemists in Immortal City.

At the same time, Elder Feng was the only Alchemist in Immortal City who, after becoming a First-Grade Alchemist, was still willing to open a shop and see patients in the marketplace of low-level Rogue Cultivators.

When Mo Hua arrived at Apricot Forest Hall, Elder Feng was seeing patients.

Elder Feng wore a clean but somewhat old, faded black Daoist Robe. His beard and hair were both white, and his expression was kind. When he saw Mo Hua, he gave a few instructions to the patient before him, then beckoned Mo Hua over.

Mo Hua hurried forward and bowed. "Hello, Grandpa Feng! My mother, she..."

Elder Feng nodded. "Good child, I have examined your mother's condition. Though it is somewhat serious, it will not endanger her life. Put your mind at ease first."

Only then did Mo Hua let out a breath of relief. When he came back to himself, however, his mouth was dry and his throat felt as though it were on fire.

Mo Hua had been frail since childhood. He had run too quickly in his panic just now, and after suddenly stopping, he felt sweat break out all over his body.

Elder Feng lightly pressed Mo Hua's back with his right hand. A pale blue light flashed from his palm as he sent some Lingli into him. Mo Hua felt as though a spring breeze had swept through his limbs and bones, and his breathing immediately became much smoother.

Elder Feng then poured a shallow cup of tea and instructed, "Drink only a little at a time. Drink slowly."

Following Elder Feng's instructions, Mo Hua slowly drank some of the tea wreathed in mist. Only then did his breathing finally steady.