Immortality Through Array Formations Chapter 1
Chapter 1 – Mo Hua
The tenth day of the ninth month, year 20,022 of the Taoist Calendar.
Located in the peripheral mountains of the Tongxian Gate within Tongxian City.
A ten-year-old boy named Mo Hua sat in a crouched position behind a massive boulder at the mountain's base. Dressed in the plain Taoist robe of an Outer Gate disciple, he listlessly gripped a stem of grass, focusing his attention on etching intricate designs into the dirt.
As 6 A.M. approached, seekers of knowledge from the Sect began their ascent. They moved in small clusters, their laughter and chatter filling the morning air.
A round-faced boy with narrow eyes, clearly well-off given the expensive jade pendant hanging from his standard Outer Gate Taoist robe, arrived with a small retinue of attendants. He eventually spotted Mo Hua, who was still occupied with his drawings behind the rock.
After scanning the area to ensure no Sect instructors were nearby, the chubby boy called out in a hushed, cautious tone:
“Mo Hua!”
Raising his head, Mo Hua revealed a face that was both delicate and refined, possessing eyes as clear as a mountain spring.
“Is it done?” the chubby boy whispered, leaning in.
With the confidence of a miniature adult, Mo Hua struck his chest. “When I handle things, you can rest assured.” He reached into the storage bag at his back and produced several Formation Diagrams. The black ink stood out sharply against the white paper as he passed them over.
“Check if there’s anything amiss.”
With a look of great importance, the chubby boy accepted the papers. He flipped through the copied work with a serious expression before his face slumped into a pained grimace.
“I can’t understand it…”
Mo Hua offered a patient explanation:
“The instructor assigned the fundamental Formation Patterns of the Five Elements Formation. I’ve completed them for you, though I purposely included six mistakes. This is to ensure the instructor doesn't suspect that someone else drew them for you…”
“Six errors… isn’t that a bit too many…”
Mo Hua simply stared at him in silence.
Quickly realizing his lapse in judgment, the chubby boy reflected, “One must not be too greedy. I should be content if I can turn in the assignment given by the instructor. Doing it too well might arouse suspicion. If the instructor discovers it and my father finds out, he’ll definitely beat me severely, and that would be a loss not worth the gain…”
Mo Hua nodded, offering a small compliment. “Worthy of being Young Master An, you figured it out so quickly!”
Beaming at the praise, the chubby boy pressed two Spirit Stones into Mo Hua’s palm. “Brother Mo, you really know me well, acknowledging my intelligence! Here are the Spirit Stones for you, I’ll come to you again next time when the instructor assigns Formation homework!”
He tucked the diagrams into his robe and scurried up the mountain path.
Mo Hua carefully stowed the two Spirit Stones away. Picking up another blade of grass, he returned to his sketches on the ground.
Shortly after, another youth approached, carrying a paper fan flecked with gold. He was thin with a somewhat sharp, unpleasant face, and he wore even more jade ornaments than the previous boy.
Mo Hua provided him with a set of Formation Diagrams as well. After a quick glance, the slender young master gestured to his servant. The attendant stepped forward to take the papers and handed Mo Hua two Spirit Stones.
Instead of leaving, the slender young master snapped his fan shut with an air of arrogance. “This Young Master is also extremely skilled in Formations, but I simply don’t have the time to do these basic Formations; that’s why I had you ghostwrite them.”
Paying him little mind, Mo Hua just continued drawing in the dirt with his grass stem.
Irritated by the lack of attention, the slender youth scoffed, “It has been said that among the Qi-refining disciples of Tongxian Gate, you draw Formations the best. I wonder, how would you fare against me? We should have a contest when we have the time.”
Mo Hua thought to himself, if you’re paying me to do your homework, what does that say about your actual skill?
Still, following the logic that peace leads to profit, Mo Hua looked up and offered some smooth flattery:
“Naturally, the young master’s mastery of Formations is far superior. The Qian Family is the number one clan in Tongxian City; the Formation heritage is incomparable to other cultivators.”
The youth’s expression softened slightly. He then asked, “So tell me, among the Qi-refining cultivators of Tongxian Gate, is there anyone whose Formation skills can surpass mine?”
“There are indeed a few…”
The slender young master’s face darkened. “Who are they?”
“For instance, me…” Mo Hua obviously kept that thought to himself.
“There are quite a few; it’s hard to count them all at once.”
The young master was visibly fuming.
“That’s a good thing!” Mo Hua claimed, lying effortlessly.
The young master sneered, “Those with a family background or Spirit Stones inferior to mine, yet their Formation skills surpass mine, there are many of them, you say. Are you implying I’m stupid and can’t compare to others? What’s so good about that?”
Mo Hua countered, “The cultivators of Tongxian City, no matter how talented they are or how well they learn, ultimately, once they master their skills, don’t they still enter the Qian Family’s Myriad Treasure Building to refine artifacts, concoct pills, and draw Formations for your family…”
“Just think, you’re only in the Qi-refining stage, yet you have cultivators at the Foundation Establishment level working for you; you’re a First Rank Formation Master with Second Rank Formation Masters at your beck and call—how prestigious! The stronger your subordinates’ abilities, the more it reflects your own capabilities!”
The slender youth paused, struck by a sudden realization. “That seems quite reasonable!”
“Understand now?”
Nodding, the young master looked out over the crowd of disciples below, his chin tilting higher.
“Indeed! Indeed! No matter how talented you are or how hard you practice cultivation, in the end, don’t you still have to serve as oxen and horses for my Qian Family?”
With a look of smug satisfaction, Young Master Qian marched away, chest puffed out.
Having successfully sent the boy on his way, Mo Hua went back to practicing his patterns with the grass roots.
Before long, several other affluent disciples stopped by. They traded Spirit Stones for goods, purchasing various Formation diagrams. By the time Mo Hua had finished his business, he had collected twelve Spirit Stones.
While twelve Spirit Stones was a significant sum for a loose cultivator, it was still a drop in the bucket for actual cultivation needs.
Mo Hua let out a sigh, a look of weary resignation appearing on his young face.
For those at the lowest rungs of society, the path of the Dao felt hopeless…
Over twenty millennia ago, during the first year of the Taoist Calendar, the Taoist Court—the supreme power of the world—unified the Nine States. They established a rigid hierarchy for clans and sects and standardized the rankings for all cultivation professions.
Following this, the “Taoist Law” was enacted to prevent cultivators from engaging in theft or senseless slaughter to fuel their progress.
This led to twenty thousand years of peace and immense growth. The world flourished, territories expanded, and the number of cultivators grew beyond counting.
Yet, beneath the splendor of the Taoist Court and the luxury of the noble clans, the sects held all the real power.
Only the unaffiliated loose cultivators at the bottom lived in misery, with no hope of ever truly advancing in their cultivation.
After so many generations, mortals without spiritual roots had mostly been phased out; almost everyone could now attempt Tao cultivation. However, the sheer number of practitioners meant that the world's spiritual energy was being drained at an alarming rate.
In the modern era, a cultivator required more than just a legacy; they needed Spirit Stones.
Because the great clans controlled the spiritual mines and the major sects held a monopoly on ancient heritages, ordinary loose cultivators were left with nothing.
In a place like Tongxian City, the majority of loose cultivators would remain in the Qi-refining stage for their entire lives, lacking both resources and guidance.
A Qi-refining cultivator was nothing more than a tiny ant beneath the vastness of the Heavenly Dao.
Mo Hua was just one of those many ants.
And he was likely to remain one forever.
A bitter smile touched his lips.
The Heavenly Dao might be impartial, but the path of cultivation was anything but fair.
Mo Hua was a loose cultivator currently at the second level of Qi refinement. He came from a family of similar status, with both parents also being Qi-refining cultivators.
His father, Mo Shan, risked his life hunting monster beasts, his body a map of scars from years of combat. His mother labored in the Food Building, working over hot stoves that left her with a persistent, painful cough.
His parents lived as frugally as possible, saving every Spirit Stone they earned just to afford Mo Hua’s education at the Tongxian Gate’s Outer Gate.
Yet, despite his efforts, Mo Hua’s spiritual root was only mediocre—better than a commoner’s, but average at best in a world teeming with prodigies.
No matter how hard he worked, he was likely destined to never surpass the Qi-refining stage.
Given his family's poverty, Mo Hua would likely follow the path of other common disciples: study until the sixth level of Qi refinement, leave the sect, and find a trade to survive.
But Mo Hua was naturally sickly and weak.
Professions like artifact refining or monster hunting required the physical strength of a body cultivator. With his frail health, Mo Hua might struggle to find even basic labor.
If he eventually started a family, the financial pressure would only increase, and every Spirit Stone would go toward survival rather than progress.
Without resources, his growth would stop entirely. He would spend his life as a bottom-tier cultivator.
Just like every other poor soul in Tongxian City.
Just like the millions of others across the world.
Trapped forever in the Qi-refining realm.
The ten-year-old sighed, cleared his head, and headed into the sect for his lessons. After a full day of study, he returned to his quarters, read through some Tao Cultivation Canons, and finally lay down to sleep at 1 p.m.
The moment Mo Hua’s eyes drifted shut, a ruined stone tablet manifested within his Sea of Consciousness.
Though it bore no writing, Mo Hua had known its name from the very first moment he saw it:
Taoist Stele!