Chapter 1017: The Yellow Springs

In the Wind Sect's cave dwelling.

Under the night sky, Elder Zhang and Elder Feng sat drinking, their expressions heavy with concern.

"Brother Zhang, are you saying… the Yellow Springs?" Elder Feng furrowed his brows deeply.

The mere mention of "Yellow Springs" caused the atmosphere in the room to grow noticeably colder.

Elder Zhang nodded and spoke in a low voice: "It seems that someone is opening a path to the 'Yellow Springs' in Kanzhou…"

Elder Feng's frown deepened. "Who?"

Elder Zhang shook his head. "Even the ancestors… cannot tell…"

Elder Feng's expression grew even more solemn. After a brief silence, he asked gravely: "Could it be that the 'Yellow Springs' truly exist?"

Elder Zhang's face darkened as he slowly replied:

"The ancient records from tens of thousands of years ago in Kanzhou do mention the term 'Yellow Springs,' describing it as a catastrophe capable of wiping out entire regions."

"But what exactly is this 'Yellow Springs'?"

"Is it a great demon, a monstrous ghost, or a plague of undead?"

"Is it some abyssal hell, an ancient entity, or perhaps a celestial calamity—some kind of karmic disaster? No one truly knows."

"How is this so-called 'Path to the Yellow Springs' opened? What does it truly signify? I am just as lost in the fog as you are."

Elder Feng asked, "If no one knows anything for certain… then Brother Zhang, how can you be so sure that there are signs of a 'Path to the Yellow Springs' appearing in Kanzhou?"

Elder Zhang's voice turned icy:

"The ancestors sent me a dream—a nightmare filled with ominous portents. In it, Canglan Prefecture was annihilated, and eerie Yellow Springs water surged through the rivers, flowing across all of Kanzhou, distorting and corrupting every living thing."

"The entire Kanzhou fell into a state where yin and yang were indistinguishable, and the living and the dead became impossible to tell apart—an underworld upon the mortal realm…"

Just envisioning such a scene sent chills down Elder Feng's spine.

Elder Zhang sighed. "The disaster of the Yellow Springs has been recorded in the ancient texts of every region."

"The cultivation world is divided into nine provinces, with the Central Province at its core. The remaining eight provinces are arranged according to the principles of the Eight Trigrams, guarding the center."

"My Zhang Clan resides in Kanzhou. The 'Kan' trigram represents water."

"The Yellow Springs are also called the 'Water of the Nine Netherworlds.'"

"According to the principles of the Eight Trigrams, if a Yellow Springs catastrophe were to occur, it would inevitably begin in Kanzhou—this place is the very source of the Nine Nether Waters."

"If Kanzhou is struck by this calamity, my Zhang Clan will bear the brunt of it. Our ancestral foundation has been built here for generations—I cannot afford to sit idly by…"

Elder Feng pondered for a long moment, his gaze filled with worry. Yet amidst his concern, a hint of doubt surfaced.

"Brother Zhang, there is something I don't understand."

"Please speak, Brother Feng," Elder Zhang said.

Elder Feng said slowly, "Looking at the grand landscape of the Central Province, the mountains and seas stretch endlessly, a land of prosperity and unparalleled beauty. The Nine Provinces are thriving, filled with life and flourishing civilization…"

"But…" Elder Feng furrowed his brows. "As you say, Kanzhou faces the threat of the Yellow Springs, and Lizhou suffers from the turmoil of the Southern Desolation. Elsewhere, there have also been… disturbances…"

There were two words Elder Feng hesitated to speak aloud. After a brief pause, he finally steeled himself, lowering his voice as he whispered:

"The Heretic Path… the great upheaval…"

"Then, is this world truly peaceful, prosperous, yet still filled with unrest and disaster?"

Elder Feng's voice carried deep incomprehension.

Elder Zhang remained silent. After a moment, he raised his eyes and gazed deeply at Elder Feng. "Brother Feng, do you truly not know?"

Elder Feng's eyes flickered, but he still shook his head.

Elder Zhang spoke slowly, word by word:

"The world is prosperous, and as an elder of a great clan, you naturally perceive the cultivation world as flourishing."

"But such prosperity comes at a price."

"And that price—who bears it? Who, then, endures the unrest and calamity…"

Elder Zhang's gaze was profound, and his tone was filled with meaning.

For prosperity to exist, someone must bear the cost. This was why the cultivation world was in constant turmoil and why Kan Prefecture showed signs of the impending Yellow Springs catastrophe.

Elder Feng seemed to be in thought but still did not fully understand.

Elder Zhang did not wish to discuss the matter further. His concern lay instead with Kan Prefecture.

Elder Zhang sighed and sincerely said:

"To be frank with you, Brother Feng, I have come to the Qianyan Prefecture this time first to witness the Sword Debate Ceremony, so that the younger generation of my clan may witness the grace of the Qianyan Heaven's Pride, broadening their horizons and avoiding complacency in their pursuit of advancement…"

"Second, to visit old friends;"

"And third, for the matter of the Yellow Springs calamity."

Elder Zhang looked solemnly at Elder Feng. "Qianyan Prefecture is a grand fifth-grade prefecture. Its great clans and sects have a long history, with vast collections of ancient books and records."

"If possible, I would like to search through them."

"The elders and scholars of Qianyan Prefecture are knowledgeable. If there is an opportunity, I would also trouble Brother Feng to introduce me."

"I wish to trace the origins of the term 'Yellow Springs'…"

"The Yellow Springs calamity is illusory and vague. If it does not exist, that would be for the best."

"But if it is real, it must be a great catastrophe. My Zhang Clan has lived in Kan Prefecture for generations, and I cannot stand idly by. I must find a way to suppress it and save this region from disaster."

The Nascent Soul-stage Elder Zhang rose and gave Elder Feng a solemn bow. "I humbly ask for your assistance, Brother Feng."

Elder Feng hurriedly stood up to avoid the bow and quickly said, "Brother Zhang, there is no need for such formality. I truly do not dare accept this."

After thinking seriously for a moment, he sincerely said, "To be honest, regarding this great matter of the Yellow Springs, my cultivation and knowledge are limited, and I truly cannot be of much help."

"But if it is merely searching through ancient texts and introducing some knowledgeable scholars, then I would naturally not refuse."

Elder Zhang's heart was relieved, and he cupped his hands. "Many thanks!"

Under the cover of night, the two continued discussing the details until it was late. Only then did they rise and bid each other farewell.

Elder Zhang returned to the Zhang Clan's guest residence and, as per routine, did a headcount.

It was now the hour of the pig (9–11 PM), and most of the clan's disciples had returned on time, except for one.

Elder Zhang's gaze darkened. "Where is Zhang Lan?"

The Zhang Clan disciples looked at each other, not daring to speak.

It wasn't that they wanted to hide anything, but rather that, under the sharp gaze of the Grand Elder, any hesitation or attempt at deception would be instantly seen through.

Telling the truth was the best option.

If they tried to conceal it, the entire clan would suffer the consequences.

As the disciples grew more anxious, a cultivator in blue robes hurriedly entered from outside, bowed, and said, "Grand Elder."

Elder Zhang looked at him. "Where have you been?"

Zhang Lan lowered his hands and replied, "I went to visit… a friend…"

Elder Zhang, deeply concerned with greater matters, did not dwell on it and simply waved his hand. "Enough, return earlier next time to avoid trouble."

"Yes." Zhang Lan sighed in relief.

With that, the group dispersed and returned to their rooms for rest.

Back in his own room, Elder Zhang attempted to meditate, but his mind was restless. Giving up, he rose, sat at the desk, lit a candle, and began flipping through ancient texts and fragmented jade slips, searching for answers.

The Yellow Springs calamity—its truth remained elusive. Its records were scattered among ancient texts, buried in obscure accounts, and rarely seen in history.

As Elder Zhang read, his findings remained scarce. He could not trace its past occurrences, let alone find a method to suppress it. Unable to contain his frustration, he muttered to himself:

"May my ancestors bless me. I hope this journey to Qianyan will yield clues to suppress the 'Yellow Springs' and avert Kan Prefecture's catastrophe…"

Yet he knew deep down that such hopes were slim.

Elder Zhang shook his head and continued reading. But the more he pondered, the more exhausted and restless he became.

At this moment, scenes from the Sword Debate Ceremony at White Hawk Mountain resurfaced in his mind.

Among them was a particular figure—graceful as a startled swan, agile as a swimming dragon. Amidst the impenetrable sword light of the Feng Clan's Heaven's Pride, they moved effortlessly like flowing water, never letting a single blade touch them…

Their name, Elder Zhang remembered clearly:

Mo Hua.

Elder Zhang was dazed for a moment, but he did not dwell on it. He simply sighed in admiration:

"No wonder they are the Qianyan Heaven's Pride—young yet unmatched in elegance. Their movement techniques even surpass those of the renowned Xiaoyao Sect's Heaven's Pride. Truly remarkable…"

Especially their footwork.

As a Nascent Soul cultivator from a clan with generations of movement technique inheritance, Elder Zhang could clearly see that Mo Hua's water-based movement technique was extraordinary in its precision.

Such a refined technique could not be achieved without countless years of arduous training and immense dedication.

High talent, high comprehension, and relentless effort—these combined to create unparalleled mastery.

"A young prodigy like this… If only they were a disciple of my Zhang Clan, how brilliant that would be…"

Even Elder Zhang could not help but admire and covet such talent.

But after a moment of envy, he suddenly froze.

The words of Elder Feng earlier resurfaced in his mind.

In the silent depth of night, Elder Zhang's mind calmed as he replayed Mo Hua's movement techniques over and over in his thoughts.

Every motion, he examined carefully.

Every pause, he pondered deeply.

The more one scrutinized something, the more one feared its implications.

And the more one analyzed, the more unsettling it became.

Elder Zhang mulled it over again and again, contemplating for dozens of cycles, until finally—

"Hiss—"

He sharply inhaled a breath of cold air.

"This young one's movement technique… seems somewhat similar to… my Zhang Clan's Vanishing Water Steps?"

But this technique—

Was simply too refined.

Far more refined than what the Zhang Clan's disciples could achieve.

Some of its maneuvers, relying on formidable spiritual sense for near-microscopic control, were not something an ordinary cultivator could possibly execute.

Moreover, its structure incorporated elements of various other movement techniques—seven-limbed, eight-pronged styles, seamlessly woven in.

Adding to that, there was a layer of misty water illusion, making it difficult to discern at first glance.

Thus, only now—after Elder Zhang sketched it out, dissected it, broke it down, and analyzed it repeatedly—did he finally perceive traces of the Zhang Clan's authentic Vanishing Water Steps hidden within.

"But… this is impossible…"

"How could a Heaven's Pride of the Taixu Sect, someone utterly unrelated to my Zhang Clan, possibly have learned our clan's strictly forbidden Vanishing Water Steps?"

Elder Zhang frowned, utterly baffled.

"This… makes no sense at all…"

"Could it be… that within my Zhang Clan—"

"There is truly someone who has broken the ancestral decree?"

A dangerous glint surfaced in Elder Zhang's eyes.

...

Next door.

Zhang Lan, who had been lazily lying down, suddenly felt a chill surge over him. A wave of unease washed through his body, making his heart skip a beat—he almost jumped up.

"Danger?"

His expression changed instantly. Yet, seeing the silent night around him, the tranquil moonlight outside the window, and nothing unusual, he slowly calmed himself and began pondering the cause of this feeling.

"That kid Mo Hua… is in some danger."

"And he really attracts a lot of resentment."

"Could it be that just because I interacted with Mo Hua during the day, I got dragged into the trouble directed at him…?"

Zhang Lan nodded slightly, feeling that this reasoning made some sense. Then, with a lazy yawn, he lay back down.

However, this time, he did not sleep as soundly.

…

Taixu Sect.

Elder Xun had not slept well for several nights.

In the Qianzhao State, during the Grand Sword Debate, it was rare for an ancestor to personally intervene. However, that did not mean he had no concerns behind the scenes.

Ever since the Grand Debate was announced, undercurrents had surged through Qianzhao State. With countless matters to handle, this sect's ancestor had not truly rested for a long time.

Yet, what troubled him the most at this moment was Mo Hua.

The way things had unfolded had somewhat exceeded his expectations.

He never thought that a boy like Mo Hua, with such a "handsome" face, could attract so much resentment.

Just by using a few basic low-level spells, he had managed to provoke a whole group of the sects' proud elite disciples, making them gnash their teeth in hatred.

After so many iterations of the Grand Sword Debate, there had been countless arrogant geniuses, yet Mo Hua stood out like a lone anomaly.

This was something Elder Xun had truly not anticipated.

Moreover, the situation was gradually starting to spiral out of control.

Elder Xun furrowed his brows, and after a long silence, he couldn't help but sigh:

"Perhaps… this is fate?"

Years ago, that young one with the surname "Zhuang" had also been astonishingly talented, looking down upon the world, yet in doing so, he provoked the envy and hatred of countless elite disciples, ending up surrounded by enemies.

Could this be some kind of inherited destiny from his sect…?

Mo Hua, this boy, started off quite well, but as he walked further, he seemed to have gone astray.

It was as if he were "repeating the same mistakes," deviating onto the same path as his master.

Just like his master, he was becoming resented.

However, there was still a difference between the two.

Zhuang Muling was hated because of his unparalleled talent and his disregard for others.

Mo Hua, on the other hand, was hated because he was cunning, eccentric, and downright infuriating.

In a way, Mo Hua seemed like… a different version of "Zhuang Muling."

Elder Xun felt utterly helpless.

He had pondered over this matter for a long time but still couldn't come up with a solution. In the end, he could only sigh.

"Forget it. 'Enemies everywhere'—perhaps this is simply the destined path for this master and disciple…"

"There are some fates that, no matter what, cannot be escaped…"

Though, when it came to Mo Hua, he wasn't truly "surrounded by enemies."

There were indeed many who hated him.

But at the same time, there were also quite a few who liked him, who cared about him.

Even if the path he walked made him seem like another "Zhuang Muling," he was, after all, not truly Zhuang Muling.

He was…

"Mo Hua."

Elder Xun softly murmured the name, recalling Mo Hua's sincere expression and his fiery, determined spirit. Gradually, he felt at ease.

The next day, the sword tournament continued.

The grand tournament's progress advanced bit by bit.

More and more cultivators began to pay attention to Mo Hua.

Some were interested in him.

Some hated him.

But the majority were simply infuriated by him, eagerly waiting to see him suffer, taking pleasure in his misfortune, and even ready to kick him while he was down.

Elder Zhang had been investigating the origins of the Yellow Spring, and now, he too had turned his focus toward Mo Hua.

He watched nearly every match Mo Hua participated in.

He wanted to see whether the movement technique Mo Hua used was truly his Zhang Clan's Lost Water Steps.

Even Zhang Lan wanted to watch Mo Hua's matches.

In this regard, he and Elder Zhang were unexpectedly aligned in thought.

However, Zhang Lan felt quite uneasy about it.

Elder Zhang had sharp eyes.

If there were no clues, Zhang Lan might be safe.

But if the elder caught even the smallest hint of something, and then slowly unraveled it…

Then he was doomed.

So, to avoid drawing Elder Zhang's suspicion, Zhang Lan could only sit obediently among the crowd, silently watching Mo Hua's duels.

He dared not make a sound, dared not discuss, and certainly dared not show even the slightest sign that he knew Mo Hua.

He was just an ordinary onlooker, a nameless passerby.

As for Mo Hua?

He truly didn't know him.

…

On Mount Lunjian, the atmosphere among the spectators grew more and more tense.

The resentment continued to build. More and more prodigies sharpened their blades, eager to cut down Mo Hua in the arena.

However, the Xuán-character division of the sword tournament was already nearing its conclusion.

Most of the duels had already been completed.

The overall rankings were more or less decided.

Those who had wanted to target Mo Hua had lost their chance.

Moreover, in Mo Hua's recent matches, his opponents weren't particularly strong.

Despite facing numerous challengers, he had won smoothly and wasn't excessively targeted.

The situation should have been tense, yet there was an eerie calm before the storm.

Amid this strange atmosphere, the Xuán-character division of the tournament ended without any shocking upsets.

To everyone's surprise, Tàixū Sect managed to hold onto third place.

This ranking was largely thanks to Mo Hua and Linghu Xiao, who had remained undefeated.

But the other disciples had also fought hard.

In fact, within Tàixū Sect, several disciples who were originally unremarkable had undergone a transformation through the trials of the tournament.

Some of them had even successfully advanced to the Dì-character division.

Mo Hua found this surprising, though not overly so.

For the elders and high-ranking members of the sect, however, it was a pleasant surprise.

With the conclusion of the Xuán-character division, after a brief rest and adjustment period, the Dì-character division officially began.

The prodigies of the four great sects stepped onto the battlefield.

The true formidable opponents were finally ready to reveal their brilliance.

.

(END of Chapter)