Chapter 1548: The Myriad Forms of Life

Chapter 1548: The Myriad Forms of Life

Qingchou City had once been the largest Immortal City in the Third-Grade Qingchou Prefecture.

Though it could not compare to the true great cities of noble clans—those places of dazzling splendor and flowing gold and jade—it nonetheless gathered the vitality of an entire prefecture, its clamor rising to the heavens, with the smoke of ten thousand households rising together.

It was the central city that the hundreds of millions of spirit farmers within Qingchou Prefecture yearned for above all else.

Countless local spirit farmers of Qingchou dreamed their entire lives of one thing: to work the fields diligently, grow wealthy through hard labor, and then settle down with their families in a great city like Qingchou—to carry on their lineage, offer incense to their ancestors, and enjoy a peaceful old age.

But now, all of that had been reduced to nothing in the catastrophe.

Within Qingchou City, everything was now marred and dilapidated. Walls had collapsed everywhere, houses lay in ruins. Flames had scorched the walls, leaving behind streaks of blackened soot.

Beneath the broken walls and crumbling rafters lay crushed corpses, their expressions suggesting they had been writhing in agony in their final moments.

A lifetime of effort, the fruits of their life's labor, the hope of finding peace and prosperity—all of it had been buried along with Qingchou City in the chaos.

Mo Hua walked a full circuit along the outer city streets. Seeing nine out of ten homes standing empty, vast stretches of residential quarters and market districts looted bare, and corpses rotting in corners, his mood sank even further.

He continued forward for roughly another hour or more before entering the inner city district, where things were somewhat better.

The inner city was also damaged, but comparatively, it retained more intact building outlines, and the formations were largely still in working order.

The vast majority of surviving Qingchou City residents had gathered in the inner city.

These cultivators were mostly of higher status and stronger cultivation, at least Late-stage Foundation Establishment, with many being Golden Core.

During the riots, they had the ability to protect themselves and could rely on their Cave-Abode Formations to fend off attacks from various thugs and mobs.

As long as they weathered the initial wave of violence and survived, being more cautious afterward meant their survival rate was considerably higher.

But even so, they dared not leave their homes.

Every household kept their doors and windows tightly shut, with all formations activated, refusing all visitors—seeking only to cling to life in these lawless times.

With doors sealed tight and no involvement in outside affairs, there remained a slim chance of survival.

But the moment one stepped outside and caught the eye of someone with ill intent, one might not make it more than a few steps before being surrounded and killed by mobs, or suffering something far worse.

Especially the women and female cultivators, who stayed deep within their courtyards, trembling with fear. If they ever ventured out, they would surely meet with disaster.

Thus, on the inner city's main streets, ordinary pedestrians were few and far between.

The most numerous were refugees and beggars, people who had already lost everything. They no longer feared robbery or death. Scattered along the roadsides and street corners, they asked only for a bite to eat, hoping to survive another day or two. Beyond that, they cared about nothing at all.

Aside from the beggars, there were also small bands of rioters, roaming in groups, looting and killing as they went.

These rioters were a complicated lot themselves.

Some were not true thugs, merely people forced by the harsh times to band together for survival.

Others, however, were evil through and through.

They relished the chaos of the world, the absence of law and order, which let them indulge their every desire: rape, plunder, and every manner of wickedness without restraint.

Whenever they encountered a woman, they would force themselves upon her. If a beggar by the roadside displeased them, they would cut them down in a flurry of blades, faces splattered with blood, laughing wildly.

Some of these people, in normal times, might even have been relatively upstanding good folk.

But once the world descended into chaos and the constraints of law vanished, the invisible evil within human nature would surge forth like a flood of beasts, devouring all reason.

Mo Hua could only secretly use the Golden Blade Technique to sever the legs of a few thugs, or use the Fireball Technique to burn the arms of the vicious, in order to save lives and punish some evildoers.

But Qingchou City was vast, and such incidents were far too numerous.

In the end, he alone could only manage what was right before his eyes—there were far more injustices and tragedies beyond his reach that he simply could not handle.

No matter what he did, it was merely a drop in the bucket.

Continuing like this was ultimately not a solution...

On the main streets of Qingchou City, deathly silence and chaos intermingled.

Mo Hua looked around and walked forward step by step.

As he entered a stretch of the street, his mind stirred suddenly, and he looked up at a tall pavilion by the roadside.

Upon the pavilion hung a plaque bearing two large characters:

“Fortune Pavilion...”

Mo Hua stopped in his tracks, his brow slightly furrowed.

Gu Changhuai asked, “What's wrong?”

Mo Hua said with some surprise, “There's a Fortune Pavilion in Qingchou City as well?”

Gu Changhuai nodded. “Fortune Pavilion is one of the foremost merchant establishments in all of Houtu City and its surrounding territories, with many branches. It's not surprising that there's a branch in Qingchou City.”

Mo Hua gave a slight nod, then couldn't help but release his Divine-Sense, penetrating the Formation to take a peek at the situation inside Fortune Pavilion.

But the Formation seemed rather sophisticated, so Mo Hua didn't dare be too reckless lest he be detected. He only swept through it lightly, like a dragonfly skimming the water's surface.

With that sweep, he could sense that quite a few people inside Fortune Pavilion seemed to be moving things around, while others were discussing matters—a bustling scene, as if they were conducting business.

Fortune Pavilion... conducting business?

Mo Hua's gaze flickered slightly, lost in thought.

Seeing this, Gu Changhuai asked, “Is something amiss?”

Mo Hua pondered for a moment, then shook his head. “Nothing. Let's attend to the main business first.”

Gu Changhuai nodded.

Afterwards, the two remained concealed and departed from Fortune Pavilion.

But after the two had left, inside Fortune Pavilion in Qingchou City…

In a sealed secret chamber.

A cultivator dressed in green robes, with a small Gold Coin Mouse embroidered on his cuffs, belatedly shuddered and furrowed his brow:

“Something's wrong.”

The other cultivators at the table asked, “What is it?”

The green-robed cultivator with the embroidered Gold Coin Mouse said with a cold gaze, “Just now... it felt like someone swept me with their Divine-Sense...”

Hearing this, the other cultivators' expressions changed drastically, and they drew their blades and swords, asking, “Who? Where?”

The green-robed cultivator frowned and shook his head. “I don't know.”

“Did the Gold Coin Bell ring?” someone asked.

The green-robed cultivator shook his head. “No.”

The others sheathed their weapons and breathed sighs of relief, their faces carrying varying degrees of displeasure. “If the Gold Coin Bell didn't ring, what's there to talk about...”

“But...” the green-robed cultivator said with a frown, “I truly felt some 'presence' glance at me.”

“For Divine-Sense to penetrate the formation without triggering the Gold Coin Bell, it would have to be either a Feathered-Ascension True-Person, or a ghost or spirit...”

“If it were a Feathered-Ascension True-Person, they could simply walk right in and kill us all, why bother with mere observation?”

“If it were a ghost or spirit...” one of them sneered, “we burn so many Incense Offerings and present so much spirit money on a daily basis, how could we not enjoy the protection of the Underworld Court's officers?”

The green-robed cultivator still frowned. His constitution was special, and his Sea of Consciousness was naturally keen, which also made him more prone to suspicion.

“Enough...” another burly man said, “stop being paranoid. Being cautious is a good thing. But being overly cautious is just cowardice.”

“The Chief Manager's business cannot be delayed.”

“While the times are right, we should hurry and finish the deal. With so many eyes watching, if we don't take a bite of the meat first, and the Chief Manager blames us, neither of you nor I can bear the consequences.”

The others nodded in agreement upon hearing this, saying, “Yes.”

It was only when the green-robed cultivator heard the name of the “Chief Manager” that his gaze shifted slightly, and he nodded, “Alright...”

…

The business at Fortune Pavilion continued.

Meanwhile, Mo Hua and Gu Changhuai arrived at the government office of the Dao Court Division in Qingchou City.

But at this moment, the government office of the Qingchou Dao Court Division had already been occupied by mobs from all sides.

Within the government office, the auras of several cultivators above the Golden Core middle stage could be felt, exuding ferocity and brutality.

Mo Hua and Gu Changhuai did not actually step inside; they only took a brief look from a distance.

What they saw was still a scene of utter devastation, with the stench of blood lingering in the air.

The gates of the Dao Prison had also been thrown open, and all the Criminal Cultivators held within had been released.

As for the cultivators of the Dao Court Division itself, not a single one remained. Either they had been killed, or they had fled.

All Spiritual Artifacts and treasures had been looted clean.

The case files had also been consigned to the flames.

Seeing this, Gu Changhuai's expression turned grave.

Mo Hua calculated on his fingers and shook his head, saying, “The chances of survival are slim; there may be no survivors left...”

At least in the vicinity, he could not detect any related Qi Mechanism.

Hearing Mo Hua say this, Gu Changhuai's heart also sank, and he felt helpless.

The entrance of the Dao Court Division was hardly a place to linger.

The two temporarily left and revealed themselves at another street corner about ten li away.

(5 kilometers or 3.11 miles)

After walking for a while, Gu Changhuai sighed, “We're too short on manpower...”

The Great Spirit Field Realm was a realm of agriculture, with an extremely dense population.

With the outbreak of the Qingchou riot, the impact was widespread, with mobs numbering in the tens of millions.

Even after setting aside the innocent disaster victims, the starving, the destitute, and the refugees, the true Criminal Cultivators, bandits, and thugs who formed the various mob factions were, by rough estimate, at least a million strong.

Among all these mobs, Lord Qingchou's forces were the strongest.

But even so, Lord Qingchou was only one of the mob factions; there were likely still many other large and small scattered mob groups.

Besides executing the ringleaders as a warning to others, resolving the problem of the numerous mobs would inevitably require a great deal of manpower or military force.

And whether it was Gu Changhuai or Mo Hua, neither had any foundation in the Great Spirit Field Realm, nor did they have almost any troops they could deploy.

Relying only on the Executive Officers under Gu Changhuai's command—if this were a period of rule of law, when the people feared the might of the Dao Court, they might still be able to suppress some conflicts.

But this was a time of riot; that little bit of manpower was nowhere near enough in the face of a tide of mobs.

And now, the local Dao Court Division in Qingchou appeared to be crippled as well—the dead dead, the fled fled—not a single hand could be recruited.

The situation was becoming ever more dire.

Mo Hua also furrowed his brow.

It wasn't just Uncle Gu; he too was short on people to use.

Moreover, constrained by his Baleful Ominous Fate Pattern, he could not directly kill, so employing a ‘decapitation tactic’ was not really feasible either.

Resolving the problem of the Qingchou riot truly seemed somewhat unrealistic...

Mo Hua sighed softly, “Let's take another look around...”

Gu Changhuai nodded.

Afterwards, the two made another circle through the ruined city of Qingchou.

Yet all they saw was desolation, mobs everywhere, and doors tightly shut. There was nothing much to look at, nor any other useful leads for resolving the unrest.

The two men's hearts gradually sank.

Gu Changhuai couldn't help but frown and say, “At this rate, I'm afraid in the end, we'll have no choice but to request Dao Soldiers to suppress this...”

Once Dao Soldiers entered the prefecture, it would be a bloody storm—not only would the mobs die, but some innocent disaster victims would likely be caught in the carnage as well.

Mo Hua frowned, deep in thought, when he suddenly noticed something and turned to look at the roadside.

Gu Changhuai, who had been sighing, sensed the shift and followed Mo Hua's gaze.

There, in an inconspicuous corner by the street, sat a ragged beggar.

The beggar's leg appeared to be crippled, and his eyes seemed blind. Before him sat a broken bowl, and he was pitifully begging.

Within the entire city of Qingchou, beggars like this were countless, nothing unusual.

Gu Changhuai hadn't noticed anything special about this beggar.

The other mobs came and went, and no one seemed to bother the beggar either.

But Mo Hua walked over, glanced around, picked up a pebble from the roadside, and tossed it into the beggar's broken bowl.

The pebble bounced in the bowl with a crisp clink.

Hearing the sound, the beggar assumed he'd received alms and hastily said, “Thank you, kind sir, thank you for your generosity...”

Then he looked down and saw that the bowl contained a pebble.

He looked up again and found a fair-skinned, handsome face before him.

He spat a “pfft,” no longer limping, no longer blind, his face twisted as if he'd eaten something foul.

Mo Hua asked, “What are you doing here?”

The “beggar” sneered, “What else could I be doing? If you're a beggar, you beg.”

Gu Changhuai was slightly surprised that Mo Hua seemed to know this beggar, then took a closer look at the “beggar's” face. Beneath the filthy hair and grimy features, he realized he recognized this person too. His heart skipped a beat as he said:

“Master Bai?”

Bai XiaoSheng nodded at Gu Changhuai. “Magistrate Gu, we meet again.”

Gu Changhuai studied Bai XiaoSheng once more, growing increasingly astonished.

This Master Bai's portrayal of a “beggar” was far too convincing—from head to toe, tattered clothes, not a trace of Golden Core aura leaking out. He truly looked identical to a lowly beggar, and Gu Changhuai hadn't detected him even when passing by.

Had Mo Hua not pointed him out, Gu Changhuai would never have imagined that a great Golden Core cultivator of the Bai Clan would be posing as a beggar in Qingchou Prefecture, begging for alms...

This Master Bai was truly an extraordinary character.

Mo Hua, however, asked, “I walked over from over there, you didn't even greet me?”

Bai XiaoSheng was speechless. “Can't you see I'm begging? How would I have time to greet you?”

Mo Hua asked, “You're that focused on begging for food?”

Bai XiaoSheng scoffed, “What do you know? You have to immerse yourself, understand? The myriad forms of sentient beings each have their own merits. Regardless of rank, wealth, honor, or disgrace, everyone has their own life, their own path, their own joys and sorrows to experience...”

“Right now, I'm no one else—just a beggar. If I don't get a bite to eat soon, I'll starve to death. At this very moment, I must set aside all distractions and immerse myself in hunger and suffering. All I think about is whether some kind-hearted soul might pass by and toss me a bite to eat, saving my life. I would remember their kindness for the rest of my days...”

Mo Hua's eyes lit up as he shoved a steamed bun into Bai XiaoSheng's hands. “What a coincidence, I'm that very kind-hearted man. Now I'm giving you a bun, so you should sell me your life.”

Bai XiaoSheng choked on his words, thinking to himself:

Can you be any more shameless?

Even the vast land of Kun Province isn't as thick as your face.

Bai XiaoSheng waved his hands repeatedly, his face full of disdain. “Go away. Get as far away as you can. Don't disturb my begging... no, I mean, my enlightenment.”

Enlightenment...

Mo Hua glanced around and shook his head. “At a time like this, what enlightenment are you still seeking?”

“What's wrong with this time?” Bai XiaoSheng asked.

Mo Hua sighed softly. “The Prefecture Realm is in chaos, lives are being lost, and the people are suffering...”

Bai XiaoSheng shook his head. “What does the Prefecture Realm's chaos have to do with me? I didn't cause it. I'm just here to cultivate, to observe the myriad forms of sentient beings, and to comprehend the Dao of All Living Beings.”

“That may be true...” Mo Hua's gaze shifted slightly as he spoke slowly, “But don't you want to... do something?”

Bai XiaoSheng looked around helplessly. “What can I do? With this many refugees, even if you killed me and distributed my flesh, it still wouldn't fill their stomachs...”

(End of Chapter)