Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 945: Snatching the Prey

Shen Qingsheng looked at Mo Hua, his expression venomous.

Mo Hua froze for a moment, and even the nearby grave-robbing Golden Cores exchanged glances in surprise. The old man referred to as "Mister Pi" glanced at Mo Hua and asked,

"You two know each other?"

Before Mo Hua could say anything, Shen Qingsheng sneered coldly:

"I figured you'd come back to Lone Mountain sooner or later, so I had people keeping watch early on.

But you slippery rat—coming and going like a ghost—we lost track of you the moment you entered the mountains. I've been searching for ages, and finally, I've caught you..."

He pointed straight at Mo Hua.

"This time, no one's saving you. You're dead!"

He was loud, arrogant, and full of disdain—talking to Mo Hua without even sparing a glance for Mister Pi and the others.

To him, an old man at the peak of Foundation Establishment and a few mediocre Golden Cores were nothing.

He was a direct descendant of the Shen Clan, a disciple of the Heavenly Dao Sect. He had seen even Ascension Realm powerhouses—what were these hillbilly Golden Cores to him?

Mister Pi and the others looked on with cold expressions.

Mo Hua, a bit helpless, raised his shackled hands and said to Shen Qingsheng:

"I've been captured. I don't call the shots anymore. If you want to kill me, you'll have to get their permission…"

"Hmph."

Shen Qingsheng snorted, then turned to Mister Pi's group.

"Hand this brat over to me. Name your price in spirit stones."

Mister Pi's eyelid twitched. The other three Golden Cores also looked displeased.

"This young friend isn't our prisoner," Mister Pi said, trying to stay courteous. "We merely asked him to help with a small task. Once it's done, we'll release him. If you still have grievances, you can settle them then."

"What's with all the yapping?" Shen Qingsheng frowned. "I want the person—hand him over already."

"What if I don't?" Mister Pi asked calmly.

"You won't?" Shen Qingsheng smirked and waved his hand. The group behind him stepped forward.

Mister Pi's face darkened.

A short, stocky Golden Core in grey whispered beside him,

"Mister Pi, what now?"

Mister Pi's eyes were gloomy as he studied Shen Qingsheng's group. "Better fewer problems than more. We're not here righteously—best to avoid trouble."

"What about the offering?"

"Find someone else."

"Understood."

After their quiet exchange, Mister Pi said aloud,

"This young man can be handed over to you, Young Master."

Shen Qingsheng raised a brow. "Now that's more like it."

Mister Pi pushed Mo Hua forward.

Mo Hua looked resigned.

He had intended to follow them into the tomb and act when the time was right—but now Shen Qingsheng had ruined everything.

Seeing Mo Hua about to fall into his hands, Shen Qingsheng grew visibly excited.

"You damned brat. This time no Golden Core guards to protect you. Let's see what tricks you've got now! Once I get my hands on you, I'll—"

Mo Hua lifted his gaze and looked at him indifferently.

Just like that time before—a single look.

In that moment, the nightmare returned. Fear surged uncontrollably. Shen Qingsheng immediately clutched his face and screamed.

But after a moment, he realized—nothing had happened.

Mo Hua had simply… looked at him. That's it.

Shen Qingsheng's fury exploded, his face turning red with rage.

"You bastard! Still daring to mock me?! Trying to hex me again?!"

Mo Hua was speechless.

He didn't even use any eye technique—just glanced at him—and the guy lost it.

Shen Qingsheng seemed to pick up on Mo Hua's disdain and grew even more enraged.

"You don't even know you're already dead!"

"Last time, you got lucky. It was the Shen Clan's fault—those two Golden Core guards dared not touch you. I've already dismissed them and brought my own loyal men this time."

"These ones kill who I tell them to. You're not getting lucky again."

Mo Hua glanced at Shen Qingsheng's new lackeys.

Most looked unfamiliar—clearly a new batch.

They were Foundation Establishment cultivators with sinister expressions. Two Shen Clan Golden Cores stood protectively by Shen Qingsheng, like guard dogs.

Mo Hua touched the shackles on his wrist with his pinky finger, already calculating how to escape.

Shen Qingsheng waved his hand, and the two Golden Cores stepped toward Mo Hua.

Just as they drew close, Mister Pi suddenly said,

"Hold on!"

The Shen Clan cultivators stopped. Shen Qingsheng frowned in irritation.

Mister Pi's gaze darkened.

"Young Master, earlier you promised us spirit stones in exchange. Now that we've handed him over—where are the stones?"

Unexpectedly, Shen Qingsheng's expression flipped.

"Spirit stones? What spirit stones? When did I ever say that?"

Mister Pi's eyes narrowed dangerously.

Shen Qingsheng sneered:

"I can give spirit stones—but you can't ask for them."

"If I give them, it's a favor. If you demand them, what's that? Debt collection? Or are you trying to insult me?"

The expressions of Mister Pi's group turned grim.

One of them clenched his fist, the muscles on his arm bulging and covered in earthen stone.

But Shen Qingsheng remained smug and unfazed.

"What, you want to fight? This whole mountain belongs to the Shen Clan. The moment you make a move, none of you are leaving Lone Mountain alive."

Mister Pi froze, a flicker of dread crossing his face. "You're from the Shen Clan?"

"Correct." Shen Qingsheng nodded.

Mister Pi pondered for a moment, then cupped his hands.

"Very well. We were blind. Please, Young Master, take him."

Shen Qingsheng, seeing them back down, snorted and grew even more arrogant.

"Bunch of rats, making me waste so many words…"

His voice was low, but the insult was still heard.

One of the sharp-faced Golden Cores suddenly twitched with anger, unable to hold it in.

Shen Qingsheng noticed the discontent and mocked:

"What now? Gonna hit me? Go ahead—kill me if you've got the guts. Just don't blame me for not warning you.

I'm a direct heir of the Shen Clan. My father's a senior elder and this mountain is under his jurisdiction.

If you lay a finger on me, I'll make sure your whole lot—whatever backgrounds you've got—won't leave here alive."

Having been insulted face to face, Mister Pi's group actually calmed down.

They exchanged glances, their expressions growing cold and silent.

Mo Hua's eyelids twitched.

Shen Qingsheng pointed at Mo Hua again and said to one of his Golden Cores,

"Bring him over."

The Shen Clan cultivator walked toward Mo Hua, drew his blade, and placed it against his neck.

Mister Pi's group did nothing to intervene.

The Golden Core dragged Mo Hua forward toward Shen Qingsheng.

Seeing his "hated rival" shackled and under a blade, Shen Qingsheng's face grew more twisted with glee.

But none of them noticed—a figure from Mister Pi's group had silently melted into the earth.

Mo Hua, with the blade at his throat, walked a few steps—then suddenly slipped and fell.

It was a smooth, natural fall.

The Shen Clan Golden Core escorting him muttered,

"Useless. Tripping over a rock…"

He reached down to grab Mo Hua's shoulder—

Just then, the ground trembled.

Two giant hands of stone erupted from the earth, clamping onto his legs like iron vices and yanking him underground.

The Shen Clan Golden Core's face changed drastically. Before he could react, half his body was already swallowed by the earth.

Another short Golden Core from Mister Pi's side activated a burrowing technique, sliding across the ground like a mole. He popped up above the Shen Clan cultivator, his claws sinking into both temples—driving into death points.

The final elder, dressed in gray, drew a long blade and—swift and deadly—beheaded him.

Blood sprayed into the air, splashing the ground.

Thanks to his fake fall, Mo Hua had rolled safely aside—completely untouched.

Mister Pi's trio had moved in perfect sync—silent, precise, ruthless.

By the time the Shen Clan cultivator managed a scream, his head was already gone.

Shen Qingsheng's group stood frozen in shock and horror.

Then they erupted in fury:

"Bastards! How dare you—!"

But Mister Pi's group gave them no time.

If they were going to kill—they'd do it clean and fast.

The three Golden Cores, cold and silent, charged into the Shen group like reapers.

Shen Qingsheng had only brought two Golden Cores—the rest were Foundation Establishment.

In most cases, that was enough, especially here on their own turf.

But not today.

Grave robbers were the most dangerous kind—desperate men with nothing to lose.

A Foundation Establishment peak and three Golden Cores—one even mid-stage—all seasoned killers.

From experience to ruthlessness, it was a complete mismatch.

The second Shen Clan Golden Core didn't even last thirty exchanges before he was slain.

The Foundation Establishment lackeys were wiped out.

The ground was littered with blood and limbs.

Only Shen Qingsheng remained—pale as a ghost, trembling with fear.

"I'm… I'm the Shen Clan heir… My-my father is... how dare you—"

The stocky Golden Core didn't even bother responding. He simply slapped him.

The sound echoed like iron hitting stone.

Shen Qingsheng was sent flying, crashing to the ground. His head spun, his vision swam with stars, and he spat out a mouthful of blood before completely blacking out.

"Damn it. We gave you face, and you just had to throw it away. Now look—we nearly had to butcher you."

The burly man stepped forward, ready to crush Shen Qingsheng to death.

But Mister Pi said, "Leave him. He might be useful later."

The big man understood immediately and nodded. "Alright."

He spat on Shen Qingsheng, pulled out a thick rope, and bound him tightly—so tightly the cords bit deep into flesh, turning it red and raw just from sight.

He clearly didn't have Mo Hua's tact or awareness, so naturally, he wasn't going to be treated the same.

Only then did Mister Pi turn his gaze to Mo Hua.

Mo Hua wore a terrified expression.

"Y-you… Why did you kill them?"

The burly man sneered, "Kid, you haven't seen anything yet. That was nothing."

Mister Pi cut in coldly, "Enough. Don't run your mouth. We've killed, which means we've stirred up trouble. Best we head down—only among the dead are we safe now."

"Got it."

The others stepped forward and collected all the storage bags. Any items that might reveal their identities were tossed separately, then they stirred up earth and stone to cover the blood and corpses of the Shen Clan cultivators—a rough but effective cleanup.

Their movements were practiced and precise—clearly not the first time they'd done this.

After finishing, the burly man came forward and lifted the unconscious Shen Qingsheng like a sack of grain.

Mister Pi glanced at Mo Hua. Mo Hua obediently walked up to him, earning a slight nod.

"We go underground."

The group entered the mine shaft and dug open a wall in one corner. Behind it lay a narrow stone tunnel.

The short, skinny Golden Core went in first.

Moments later, the burly man followed, dragging Shen Qingsheng in with him.

Mister Pi pointed at Mo Hua. "Your turn."

Mo Hua nodded obediently and crawled into the tight tunnel.

Next was the grey-robed Golden Core with the long blade.

Mister Pi went last. He stayed behind to lay down a formation, sealing the wall behind them, then followed the others into the tunnel.

And just like that, the group vanished into the depths of the mine.

Above, on Lone Mountain, only the dirt-covered remains of the slaughtered Shen Clan cultivators remained.

To Mo Hua, the world ahead was pitch-black.

The stone tunnel was narrow, damp, sticky, and reeked of earth and decay.

He didn't know how long they had walked when a faint glow appeared ahead—an opening.

He leapt through the gap and landed in a broader corridor.

A wave of musty, rotting, fishy stench—aged and cloying—hit him like a wall.

He quickly covered his nose and mouth, held his breath, then circulated his spiritual energy to protect his senses. That helped a little.

By now, everyone had entered the corridor.

Mo Hua looked around. The passage was about two men tall, its walls solid and lined with branching paths that stretched into darkness. A frigid, oppressive chill seeped through the air.

All was silent—deathly silent, as if something was sleeping here, something dead.

Mo Hua felt a chill deep in his heart.

Just then, piercingly sharp howling shattered the silence.

Mo Hua jumped, whipping his head around—only to realize it was Shen Qingsheng.

Not just Mo Hua—even Mister Pi and the others broke into cold sweat.

Somehow, Shen Qingsheng had woken up.

"Not good!"

The burly man turned pale and immediately clamped a hand over Shen Qingsheng's mouth to muffle any sound. The rest of them didn't even dare breathe too loudly.

Moments passed. Nothing happened.

The big man wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Didn't… wake anything up, right?"

Mister Pi looked grave. He pulled out a compass, examined it for a while, and finally relaxed slightly. "Seems okay…"

The burly man turned to Shen Qingsheng, practically shaking with fury. "You little bastard, trying to get me killed?!"

Shen Qingsheng's eyes bulged in rage and terror. "I—I'm from the Shen Clan! How dare you—!"

The big man snorted. "Without the Shen Clan backing you, you're just a waste. You don't even know how dangerous the cultivation world is. Killing you is nothing—"

"Enough with the talk," Mister Pi interrupted with a frown. "Knock him out again."

Though Mister Pi was only at the peak of Foundation Establishment, his word clearly carried weight.

The burly man slapped the back of Shen Qingsheng's head—out cold.

"It's getting late. Let's find our bearings quickly," Mister Pi said softly.

Everyone nodded.

Mister Pi took the lead, holding the compass in his left hand while forming hand seals with his right. He watched the compass as he moved, carefully determining the direction of the tomb's corridors.

The group followed silently. No one spoke, as if afraid to disturb something lurking in the tomb.

Mo Hua followed as well—but his mind wasn't on the dangers of the tomb.

His eyes were on Mister Pi and that compass.

You can always tell a master by their hands.

Mo Hua was certain now—this Mister Pi had real skill.

Back when they chatted on the mountain, Mo Hua had already guessed it. "Earth Arrays" were not something an ordinary formation master could learn.

Mister Pi definitely had access to a secret, powerful legacy.

And given what he was capable of, it was likely a high-level inheritance.

After all, grave robbing was like snatching meat from a corpse's mouth.

To survive this line of work required formidable formation ability, vast experience, and a keen eye. Without real talent, they wouldn't last.

"I wonder if I can get my hands on Mister Pi's legacy…"

"Even if I can't, learning a bit would be great."

Mo Hua mused silently.

So he quietly trailed behind Mister Pi, expression calm on the surface, but frequently craning his neck to peek at the compass, studying the hand seals, and simulating the deduction process in his mind.

Along the corridor walls, formations had been carved.

Their presence was subtle, blended into the earth itself—clearly a type of "earth array" meant specifically for tomb defenses.

Deciphering such arrays and using a compass to determine orientation required immense focus and spiritual effort.

Mister Pi poured his full attention into the compass. Only when his spiritual sense was nearly drained and he paused to rest did he catch, out of the corner of his eye, Mo Hua watching him.

Those eyes—deep and mysterious—held an inexplicable, profound quality.

Mister Pi's heart jumped. He looked again—and saw only a pair of clear, tranquil eyes, so clear they mirrored his own reflection.

He stared at Mo Hua silently.

Mo Hua stared right back.

Mister Pi's gaze flickered, then he quietly looked away and continued leading the way.

Mo Hua let out a tiny sigh of relief.

They walked on for a bit longer and soon arrived before a sealed gate.

Intricate formations were carved densely all over its surface.

"We're here."

A sigh of relief escaped from the burly man in the group.

Mister Pi gave everyone a look, signaling for silence. He then took out a formation diagram, a bronze formation brush, several bottles of spiritual ink, blank array paper, and began recording while simultaneously deducing the array etched on the gate—trying to unravel and break it.

The burly man and the others stood alert around the gate, guarding against any unexpected developments.

Shen Qingsheng remained unconscious. Mo Hua stood still.

Mo Hua found the formation on the gate vaguely familiar. He had never studied this type directly, so he couldn't fully understand its intricacies.

He did want to see how Mister Pi was going to crack it, but he feared raising suspicion—so he behaved, standing obediently and not making a move.

Mister Pi was decoding the array.

Mo Hua just stood there like a good disciple.

Time passed—how long, he couldn't say. Eventually, Mister Pi seemed to have completed the deduction and began using the bronze brush, dipping it in ink and tracing formation runes on the gate.

Mo Hua resisted the urge to look.

But the wait dragged on, and Mister Pi still hadn't finished.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of him. Mo Hua sneakily glanced out of the corner of his eye—just a peek.

And just from that one glance, he realized: Mister Pi had already finished drawing the formation.

But the array still hadn't activated.

Mister Pi looked puzzled, examining his work carefully, brows deeply furrowed. Yet, no matter how he checked, he couldn't find the problem.

Mo Hua's old habit as a "Little Senior Brother" kicked in, and instinctively, he started mentally checking Mister Pi's "homework."

At first, he too saw nothing wrong—after all, he didn't specialize in this kind of earth-based formation.

But the Dao of Arrays was all about connections and analogies.

Mo Hua had a profoundly deep foundation in formations and a unique sensitivity toward the Dao of the Earth.

As he kept examining it, things gradually became clearer.

By the third pass, he finally detected a subtle drag in the flow of spiritual energy—barely perceptible—and identified the exact spot where the mistake lay.

Mo Hua really wanted to point it out.

But he hesitated, not wanting to embarrass Mister Pi.

After all, having your formation mistake pointed out—especially one you personally drew—was a major blow to the ego.

Particularly when the person correcting you was a junior.

And Mister Pi clearly had the air of a seasoned formation master.

So Mo Hua held back, hoping Mister Pi would catch it on his own.

But alas—Mister Pi wasn't holding up his end of the deal.

He checked over and over again, turning the whole array inside out for a solid half hour, and still couldn't figure out where he went wrong.

Mo Hua watched in silence… until he finally couldn't take it anymore.

He raised a pale, delicate finger and pointed to one of the runes in the corner. In an extremely tactful tone, he said:

"Senior… I'm not very familiar with this stuff… but doesn't this rune look kind of… weird?"

Mister Pi paused, looked where Mo Hua was pointing, studied it a few times, and his heart dropped with a thud.

He turned to Mo Hua, then nodded.

"Yes, this was the mistake."

"It really was wrong…?" Mo Hua blinked innocently, still playing dumb.

"You've got a sharp eye, little brother," Mister Pi praised.

Mo Hua scratched his head, a bit embarrassed. "Just lucky, senior. Sorry if I overstepped…"

Mister Pi took up the bronze brush and corrected the rune. Once he injected spiritual power again, the formation immediately lit up. Runes shimmered and pulsed, and the formation on the gate cracked apart inch by inch.

The gate's array was broken.

The heavy gate began to slowly rise.

The group's expressions lightened, joy faintly showing.

"Let's go," said the gray-robed Golden Core.

Everyone filed into the gate one by one.

Mo Hua followed at the rear.

Mister Pi stayed behind. He carefully put away his bronze brush, beast-blood ink, the discarded notes from his earlier deductions, and the reference array diagram. Then, he wiped the runes off the gate—so no one could steal his knowledge or legacy.

Only after all that did he follow the group.

But as he looked at Mo Hua… his expression turned extremely ugly.

(End of this Chapter)