Amidst the demonic cultivator's cries of pain, Zhang Lan and the others looked at Mo Hua with even more complex expressions.
Mo Hua wiped Zhang Lan's sword on the ground, but the bloodstains remained, not completely wiped off.
Zhang Lan sighed, took the sword back, and returned it directly to its sheath.
"Alright, it's done now. We can go back."
Once again, Mo Hua led the way, while Zhang Lan and the others took turns dragging the demonic cultivator down the mountain path.
As for whether the demonic cultivator would tumble to his death, they couldn't be bothered.
If he tumbled and died, it was his fate; if he didn't, he deserved it.
On the way, Situ Fang couldn't help but praise, "Mo Hua, your footwork is amazing!"
She had been watching from the side and was sweating with fear.
Each time she saw Mo Hua evade the demonic cultivator's attacks, she breathed a sigh of relief and couldn't help but admire him.
Mo Hua felt pleased inside but remained modest, saying, "It's nothing special."
"Who taught you?" Situ Fang asked.
Zhang Lan coughed a few times.
Mo Hua glanced at him and replied seriously, "It was taught to me by a passing, unknown, kind uncle..."
Situ Fang looked puzzled, "There's someone like that?"
She thought for a moment, then secretly said to Zhang Lan, "I watched closely; why does it resemble your Zhang family's Flowing Water Steps?"
Zhang Lan choked again, coughing several times before finally recovering and hastily replied, "Don't tarnish someone's innocence! What Flowing Water Steps? Where is the resemblance?"
Situ Fang nodded, "It does seem a bit different. Your Zhang family's Flowing Water Steps aren't that impressive."
Zhang Lan couldn't accept that, "How can our Zhang family's Flowing Water Steps not be impressive? This is..."
Situ Fang looked at him.
Zhang Lan's tone softened, "Our Zhang family's Flowing Water Steps might just be slightly less impressive."
Zhang Lan felt muddled inside.
The Zhang family had two sets of footwork, Falling Blossom and Flowing Water, with Falling Blossom being his main focus. He had also seen other Zhang family practitioners specializing in Flowing Water Steps, but none had used them as effortlessly and enigmatically as Mo Hua...
How had he taught him that again?
Furrowing his brow, Zhang Lan struggled to recall, muttering to himself, "I taught him the Flowing Water Steps, right? It should be..."
While Zhang Lan was lost in thought, Mo Hua heard a faint, mosquito-like "thank you."
Turning his head, Mo Hua saw Situ Xiu's eyes flickering, but his expression was stubborn.
He clearly wanted to thank him, yet he felt embarrassed. His voice was barely audible, like the buzz of a mosquito.
He was confident and arrogant when they ascended the mountain, however, being injured and bled several times, he now appeared much more composed.
Mo Hua nodded slightly, feeling somewhat relieved.
Indeed, young men who experienced setbacks would grow.
But he forgot that he was even younger right now, hardly qualifying as a young man.
As they walked along the mountain path, Zhang Lan's mind continued to dwell on the matter of the Flowing Water Steps.
He replayed the scene in his mind where Mo Hua had just now engaged with the demonic cultivator, over and over again.
Carefully comparing Mo Hua's Flowing Water Steps with his own impression of them, Zhang Lan noted subtle differences.
The foundational movements were the same, but each step and gesture had become more refined and intricate, with some actions being more concise, eliminating unnecessary movements. It seemed like Mo Hua had learned something else from someone else...
Why though? The movements were almost identical, yet the overall impression was completely different.
Zhang Lan pondered for a moment, then suddenly realized, "It must be spiritual consciousness..."
Because his spiritual consciousness was strong enough, Mo Hua could control his spiritual energy with precision, making his footwork more elusive and detailed, with many variations.
Zhang's family cultivators were not adept at formations and had weaker spiritual consciousness, so they hadn't grasped the essence of this footwork, which might have made them consider it mediocre.
"Oh no!" Zhang Lan's heart sank.
When he taught Mo Hua the footwork, he had thought Mo Hua would only learn it superficially, not master it so well.
Even if he used it, others would forget it after a glance.
How well could a child with congenital weakness learn footwork?
But unexpectedly, Mo Hua had not only learned it well but had surpassed the disciples of the Zhang family, which could cause trouble in the future.
If Mo Hua made a name for himself, people would say, "This is the Zhang family's Flowing Water Steps, used even better than by the Zhangs!"
Where would that leave the Zhang family's reputation?
Unintentionally, Zhang Lan had added a blot to the family's history.
Zhang Lan felt his scalp tingle.
If he were punished, that would be one thing, but if the family were shamed, it wouldn't be as simple as kneeling in the ancestral hall or being confined.
When Situ and the others weren't paying attention, Zhang Lan quietly pulled Mo Hua's sleeve and said earnestly, "Absolutely! Absolutely! Absolutely do not say that I taught you!"
Mo Hua's expression turned serious, patting his chest to assure, "Don't worry, I won't expose you!"
Zhang Lan nodded, but then reconsidered.
What did "expose you" mean? It made it sound like he was a criminal accomplice...
Halfway along their journey, they stopped on a small hillside and rested for a while.
Mo Hua took out some beef and distributed it among everyone.
The demonic cultivator wasn't given any; he didn't deserve to eat something made by his mother.
Zhang Lan savored the delicious and spicy beef, feeling impressed: "Mo Hua's family really knows how to prepare beef. It's tender and chewy, perfectly stewed..."
Then Zhang Lan suddenly paused, remembering that Mo Hua had used a Fireball technique earlier?
It wasn't particularly powerful, but the speed at which he cast it seemed unusually fast...
At least faster than his own spells.
Zhang Lan gave Mo Hua a meaningful look.
He had initially thought that Mo Hua's spiritual power wasn't strong, so his spells wouldn't be particularly proficient, but now it seemed uncertain...
Combining Flowing Water Steps with such a fast and accurate Fireball technique, Zhang Lan found it quite tricky.
After they had eaten their fill, the group continued on their journey.
Before evening fell, they reached the foothills of the Great Black Mountain.
Mo Hua recalled something and walked up to the demonic cultivator, who was awake, and asked, "A few days ago, were you in the mountains, hunting a demon hunter?"
The demonic cultivator snorted coldly and didn't answer.
"I'm asking you a question," Mo Hua insisted.
The demonic cultivator glanced disdainfully at Mo Hua.
Mo Hua's patience wore thin, and he turned to pull the sword from Zhang Lan's waist.
Zhang Lan was startled and quickly stopped him. "What are you doing?"
Mo Hua said, "He's being stubborn, so I'll just break one of his legs!"
Situ Fang whispered softly, "That's enough. You've already broken one."
Mo Hua said, "I've only broken one; there are still two left!"
Situ Fang hesitated. "Even if you've broken his legs, he probably won't survive."
Mo Hua sighed regretfully, "Then that's just his bad luck."
Upon hearing this, the demonic cultivator immediately said, "I'll talk! I'll talk!"
Mo Hua was taken aback.
Why was this demonic cultivator suddenly so cooperative?
The demonic cultivator's eyelids twitched.
He wasn't afraid of death.
He could be killed by enemies, die from being harvested, be convicted by the Dao Court, and die from extreme punishment.
No matter how cultivators killed him, he didn't care.
But he absolutely couldn't die at the hands of a brat barely in the Qi Refining realm!
Being killed by a mere Qi Refinement Stage Level 5 kid was too much humiliation for him to bear!
"So, speak," Mo Hua said.
"It wasn't me who was hunting him."
"And then?"
"There's nothing more," the demonic cultivator replied.
Mo Hua said slowly, "You said it wasn't you hunting him, which means someone else was hunting him, and you saw them."
The demonic cultivator remained silent.
Mo Hua moved to pull out his sword again, and the demonic cultivator had no choice but to say, "There were several cultivators hunting him."
"What did they look like?"
"I couldn't see their faces clearly, but they were wearing silver-white Dao robes."
Mo Hua's gaze narrowed at the mention of silver-white...
(End of the Chapter)