The carriage sped along, and the scenery outside the window was swallowed by darkness.
Mo Hua stared blankly out the window, his thoughts a tangled mess, yet he could vaguely sense that some crucial figures were gradually surfacing...
...
As Mo Hua passed through Qingzhou City’s southern gate and left the city—
The young lord named "Shen Linsu" and his entourage headed for the northern gate, boarding a carriage that looked plain on the outside but was extravagantly luxurious within, heading in the opposite direction to Mo Hua.
Inside the carriage, Shen Linsu, his face handsome as jade, lounged atop a soft pelt of an Exotic Beast, tapping lightly on the table with his finger in silence, his expression dark and sullen.
The atmosphere in the carriage was stifling.
Everyone more or less guessed the reason for the young lord’s foul mood.
One of the noble-born Disciples tried to console him, "Mr. Shu, that man is too blind to see Mount Tai before him—the chance for a meteoric rise is staring him in the face, and yet he fails to grasp it."
"They cram Formation knowledge until their brains turn to mush, don’t know how to scheme, and end up slaving away for others their entire lives."
"Indeed. Someone so blind to honor isn’t worth your time, young lord."
"I know." Shen Linsu spoke coolly, but his face only grew uglier.
From childhood to now, he’d never spoken so courteously to anyone of his own generation.
Yet today, when he encountered this "Mo Hua," on some strange impulse he’d deigned to invite him, even wanting him to join the Young Masters’ Pavilion tea gathering.
He didn’t even understand why he’d done that.
Since "Young Masters’ Pavilion" holds the word "Master," it’s not just about talent in Tao Cultivation—family, background, and bloodline are all indispensable.
This Mo Hua—Formation Leader or not—his family, Spiritual Root, Bloodline are all too lowly. To join the Young Masters’ Pavilion, to mingle with them, he’s nowhere near worthy.
Especially family and bloodline—you either have them or you don’t.
It’s like a giant Heavenly Chasm keeping the low-born, powerless, and insignificant forever outside the core circle.
This Mo Hua has no idea what an insanely precious invitation he was handed.
This was the real sky-ladder of the Cultivation World.
The true path of the privileged elite.
The people of the Young Masters’ Pavilion—he could never hope to associate with them. Even to sit and have tea together, he ought to feel unspeakably honored.
Yet Mo Hua refused.
Whether it’s "eyes and no pearls," or "not knowing what’s good for him," it’s like a thorn stuck in the heart, making him unspeakably uneasy.
And besides, Shen Linsu felt there was something oddly familiar about Mo Hua.
Shen Linsu’s brow furrowed.
Seeing that Shen Linsu was still troubled, another noble Disciple smiled and whispered,
"There’s no need to care, Mr. Shu. The low-born are blind from birth—chances sit right before them and they never seize them. That’s why they’re fated to remain low-born." ȑ𝓪ℕỐ𝐁ËŜ
"No matter whether he’s truly ’blind with eyes,’ he shouldn’t disrespect you. To disrespect you is to disrespect the Young Masters’ Pavilion. If everyone follows suit, where lies our authority?"
"How about..." The noble’s gaze flickered. "We get someone to snatch him, gouge out his eyes, break his limbs, and dump him in the Mistwater River to feed the Clam Demons?"
The others laughed in agreement, "Indeed—a fine idea."
"If he’s blind, then those eyes are useless anyway."
The two Golden Core Guards remained silent, pretending not to have heard a thing.
The only Elder Feathered Immortal present, however, frowned deeply.
He knew these young lords were capable of anything.
Their backgrounds were simply too good. Since childhood, they get whatever they want, with too many people flattering them to no end. Some among those toadying up are even Taoist Court Supervisors and Court Leaders. So to these young masters, the very word "law" simply does not exist.
Whatever trouble they cause, the family always cleans up after them.
They even take pride in making messes, knowing nothing of fear.
But this "Mo Hua"—he absolutely cannot be touched...
He’s Taixu Gate’s Formation Leader, with Ancestor Xun backing him.
Low-born or not, he’s not some pawn to be trifled with.
To move against him would mean endless trouble.
But such things can’t be spoken openly.
If these young lords get it into their heads to rebel, some hot-blooded impulse could actually get Mo Hua killed.
That would mean a mortal vendetta.
The Elder Feathered Immortal pondered a moment, then spoke:
"The path of Formations is, in the end, just a ’craft of skill.’ No matter how well you learn it, you’ll only ever serve the nobility. Scholars hone their arts, but their wares are still traded to the great families. No matter how hard the low-born struggle, they can never escape this fate."
"This Mo Hua is the same. Formation skills or not, at best he’s just a high-grade ox and horse. Young lord, you need not take it to heart—don’t cheapen your own standing."
Shen Linsu froze, nodding slightly.
The others, though a bit disappointed, did not contradict the Feathered Immortal in his presence.
Seeing this, the Elder Feathered Immortal added:
"What’s more, soon the next Sword Discussion Conference will be held. That is the truly important matter—before then, it’s best to avoid distractions or unnecessary complications."
At this, the noble Disciples all grew much more serious.
One nodded in agreement, "True, the Sword Discussion Conference is what matters. Nine years in the Sect, and yet you only get this one chance. You could even say for a Sect Disciple, this is their only shot in life."
Another noble-born quickly flattered, "Mr. Shu, with your family and talents, if you add the glory of being Champion of the Conference, you’ll soar directly to Tian Shu, and the path to immortality will be clear before you."