Chapter 141: The Interrogation
Amid the Evil cultivator's screams of agony, Zhang Lan and the others looked at Mo Hua with increasingly complicated expressions.
Mo Hua bent down, wiped Zhang Lan's sword on the ground a few times, but the bloodstains stubbornly clung to the blade.
Zhang Lan sighed helplessly, took the sword back, and sheathed it.
"All right, it's done. We can head back now."
Once again, Mo Hua led the way while Zhang Lan and the other two took turns dragging the Evil cultivator down the mountain path.
As for whether the Evil cultivator would get jolted to death on the way, none of them particularly cared.
If he didn't die, it was his fate; if he did, it was what he deserved.
On the way down, Situ Fang couldn't help but praise: "Mo Hua, your movement technique is amazing!"
Earlier, she'd watched from the sidelines with her heart in her throat. Seeing Mo Hua dodge the Evil cultivator's attacks again and again, she'd been both relieved and deeply impressed.
Mo Hua was secretly delighted but kept a humble tone.
"Ah, it's just average."
"Who taught you?" Situ Fang asked curiously.
Zhang Lan coughed a few times.
Mo Hua glanced at him, then replied earnestly: "A passing, kind-hearted uncle taught me… I don't know his name."
"There are still people like that?" Situ Fang frowned in surprise.
After thinking for a bit, she leaned closer to Zhang Lan and whispered: "Why does it look so much like your Zhang Clan's Flowing-Water Step?"
Zhang Lan choked on his own saliva, coughed violently for a while, then sputtered: "Don't slander me! What Flowing-Water Step? How is it similar?"
Situ Fang nodded thoughtfully.
"Hmm, maybe it's not that similar. The Zhang Clan's Flowing-Water Step isn't even that impressive."
Zhang Lan immediately bristled.
"What do you mean not impressive? Our Zhang Clan's Flowing-Water Step is—"
Situ Fang gave him a calm, piercing look.
Zhang Lan's tone faltered.
"—is… just a tiny bit less impressive than his."
Even he felt confused.
The Zhang Clan actually had two movement techniques, Falling Petal Step and Flowing-Water Step.
He mainly practiced Falling Petal Step, though he also knew Flowing-Water Step, and had seen others in his clan use it many times. But Mo Hua's version was…
Too fluid, too elusive, and with a strange, cunning rhythm.
"How did I even teach him back then?"
Zhang Lan frowned, trying to recall, muttering to himself,
"I did teach him Flowing-Water Step, didn't I? I think so…"
While Zhang Lan was lost in thought, Mo Hua suddenly heard a faint whisper beside him.
"Thank you."
He turned his head and saw Situ Xiu's eyes flicker, his face set with stubborn pride.
Clearly, he wanted to express gratitude, but was too embarrassed to do it properly, so the words came out like a mosquito's buzz.
When they had gone up the mountain, he'd been arrogant and brash. After several injuries and blood loss, he now seemed far more composed.
Mo Hua nodded, feeling rather pleased.
As expected, adversity makes young people grow.
He forgot, of course, that he himself was even younger, not even old enough to be a "young man."
As they descended the trail, Zhang Lan was still preoccupied with the Flowing-Water Step.
He replayed in his mind the scenes of Mo Hua's fight with the Evil cultivator again and again, analyzing the differences between Mo Hua's version and the one he knew.
The basic steps were the same, but Mo Hua's transitions were more refined, his motions sharper and cleaner, removing unnecessary movements. It looked like he had learned additional techniques to complement it.
But why? Same steps, yet the feeling was completely different.
Then Zhang Lan suddenly realized: "It's the Divine-Sense…"
Because Mo Hua's Divine-Sense was strong, he could control his spiritual power with extreme precision, making his movement more fluid, subtle, and unpredictable.
The Zhang Clan wasn't good at formations, and their Divine-Sense wasn't particularly strong. That's why their Flowing-Water Step felt mediocre.
"Oh no…" Zhang Lan felt a chill down his spine.
When he'd taught Mo Hua the technique, he thought the boy was too frail to learn much. Even if he did, no one would notice.
A physically weak child, how good could his movement technique possibly get?
But now, Mo Hua had learned it too well. So well, in fact, that he surpassed even the Zhang Clan's own disciples!
If Mo Hua ever made a name for himself one day, people would surely say: "Isn't that the Zhang Clan's Flowing-Water Step? He uses it better than the Zhang Clan themselves!"
What would that do to the Zhang Clan's reputation?
Zhang Lan broke out in a cold sweat.
If he alone got scolded, fine, but dragging the entire clan's dignity through the mud? That wouldn't end with just kneeling in the ancestral hall or a few days in confinement.
While the Situ siblings weren't looking, Zhang Lan discreetly tugged on Mo Hua's sleeve, his face serious.
"Never! Never! Never say I taught you!"
Mo Hua nodded solemnly, patting his chest in assurance.
"Don't worry, I won't rat you out!"
Zhang Lan nodded in relief, then froze.
Wait… rat him out? Why did that sound like a criminal confession?!
They stopped halfway down to rest on a small hillside.
Mo Hua took out some beef and shared it with everyone, except the Evil cultivator. That man wasn't worthy of his mother's cooking.
Zhang Lan munched on the beef, savoring it with appreciation.
"Mo Hua's family really knows how to cook beef… soft yet chewy, rich and spicy, the heat control is impeccable…"
Then he suddenly remembered, Mo Hua had just used a Fireball Technique!
Its power was ordinary, but the speed of the cast… was shockingly fast.
Definitely faster than his own.
Zhang Lan gave Mo Hua a meaningful look.
He had assumed Mo Hua's spiritual power wasn't strong, so his spellcasting would be mediocre. But now… not so certain.
The combination of Flowing-Water Step and those fast, precise fireballs would make for a dangerous opponent.
After eating, they resumed their journey.
By evening, they reached the foot of Black Mountain.
Mo Hua suddenly remembered something.
He walked up to the Evil cultivator—who was awake—and asked:
"A few days ago, did you chase a monster hunter through these mountains?"
The Evil cultivator snorted coldly and stayed silent.
"I'm asking you a question."
The man glanced at Mo Hua with disdain.
Mo Hua's temper flared. He turned and reached for Zhang Lan's sword again.
Zhang Lan jumped. "What are you doing?"
Mo Hua said calmly, "He's being stubborn. I'll just break his other leg."
Situ Fang whispered, "That's enough, you already broke one."
Mo Hua frowned. "He's got two more."
Situ Fang winced. "If you break them all, he'll die."
Mo Hua sighed in regret. "Then that's just bad luck for him."
The Evil cultivator immediately blurted out,
"Ask! Ask whatever you want, I'll talk!"
Mo Hua blinked in surprise.
That was… unexpectedly cooperative.
Meanwhile, the Evil cultivator's eyelids twitched violently.
He wasn't afraid of death.
He could be killed by an enemy, by essence-draining, or executed by the Dao Court Division.
He didn't care how he died... but he absolutely could not die at the hands of a ten-year-old brat!
To be slain by a mere Qi-Refining Fifth Layer child? The humiliation would be unbearable!
"Then speak," Mo Hua said.
"It wasn't me who chased him."
"And then?"
"That's it."
Mo Hua said slowly, "So, you're saying you didn't chase him… meaning you saw someone else doing it."
The Evil cultivator fell silent.
Mo Hua's hand went toward the sword again.
The man quickly shouted:
"There were a few cultivators chasing him!"
"What did they look like? What were they wearing?"
"I couldn't see their faces, but they wore silver-white Daoist robes."
Mo Hua's eyes narrowed.
Silver-white…
(End of Chapter)