Chapter 631: The Teahouse
Within the spiritual sense's pale, translucent vision, Mo Hua saw two figures in the boudoir of the Wang Clan's matriarch—but he couldn't tell what they were doing.
Mo Hua wanted to go in and drag Young Master Hua out himself, but Murong Caiyun stopped him.
"You're still a kid. Don't taint your eyes."
Mo Hua blinked, not fully understanding—but he obediently stayed outside.
Ouyang Feng and Shangguan Xu stood guard at the entrance.
Murong Caiyun and Hua Qianqian entered the boudoir.
Moments later, a woman's sharp scream rang out. Then, a disheveled man burst through the window, spewing blood—clearly struck by spells and spirit needles—before fleeing in panic.
Mo Hua, still curious, snuck a peek through the broken window.
Inside the boudoir: chaos. Clothes and robes lay scattered everywhere.
A messy-haired woman clutched a quilt around herself, shouting furiously.
Mo Hua watched with sympathetic eyes but a deadly tongue.
The Wang Clan's cultivators weren't very capable—instead of helping, they only gave Young Master Hua room to breathe.
The worst-case scenario would be: Young Master Hua is captured, handed to the Dao Court, formally tried and sentenced. That would seal the scandal.
Ouyang Feng's longsword danced like wind, while Shangguan Xu's heavy sword pressed down like a mountain.
Like most flower thieves, Young Master Hua had excellent movement techniques but mediocre spellcasting.
If they couldn't catch him themselves, the next best option was for Wang Clan to do it—and beat him to death on the spot, destroy the body, and deny everything.
Alternatively, let him escape, claim there was no proof, and call it all a "rumor."
"Pigs are raised to be fattened—before slaughter…"
"You little brat, what do you know? My lord loves me! He only harvests those women to train, not because he loves them…"
"How dare you!"
Of course, the facts were clear: a dog can't stop eating poop, and a flower thief will never stop harvesting.
"This is the Wang Clan's inner chamber. You dare barge in?!"
"He didn't harvest you yet because he's raising you like a pig—until your cultivation is ripe. Then he'll harvest everything in one go…"
The woman's face flushed red, body trembling.
She jabbed a shaking finger at Mo Hua.
But Mo Hua's words had struck a nerve—she froze.
He'd started out annoyed, but seeing how the Wang Clan cultivators avoided his gaze, their guilt was obvious. Then he understood.
Outside, Young Master Hua had already been intercepted by Ouyang Feng and Shangguan Xu.
The woman glared at Murong Caiyun arrogantly.
"What flower thief?!"
She opened her mouth to curse—but Hua Qianqian struck her acupoint with a spirit needle, knocking her out.
What would happen to the woman now depended on the Wang Clan—and the Dao Court.
After all, harboring a flower thief was a colossal scandal.
Mo Hua, eavesdropping outside, offered a "helpful" reminder:
The man who burst from the window and tried to escape—his pale, fox-like face and lecherous expression made it clear: this was Young Master Hua.
Ouyang Feng and Shangguan Xu intercepted him the moment he broke out.
Catching him would confirm everything—and destroy the Wang Clan's reputation.
That would make it a fact, not rumor—and the whole clan would be publicly shamed.
Murong Caiyun coldly sneered at the woman:
"You're the matriarch—and you brought a flower thief into your home. Shameless!"
That's why they moved quickly. Catching Young Master Hua was the first priority.
Around them, Wang Clan cultivators responded differently. Some sneered, treating it like gossip. Some covered their faces, embarrassed. Some were righteously furious.
Mo Hua saw it all and smiled faintly. He didn't act—he just sat back and watched the show.
And the Wang Clan's actions? Exactly as expected.
Once they realized they couldn't catch Young Master Hua themselves, they began deliberately interfering, blocking Ouyang Feng and Shangguan Xu.
The two grew angry, and began striking with less restraint.
If the Wang cultivators wanted to pretend to help but actually sabotage things, then fine—they would pretend to "accidentally" slice a few of them.
The Wang cultivators were too guilty to protest.
But this only benefited Young Master Hua—the more chaos, the easier his escape.
With a few agile dodges, he'd already widened the distance to several zhang.
More than enough to flee.
Ouyang Feng, now furious, surged his spiritual energy. Sword aura swept out—he was ready to cut through the entire obstruction.
But then—a faint voice whispered in his ear.
"Senior Brother Feng…"
He turned and saw Mo Hua sitting calmly, hands behind his back, flashing him a meaningful look.
Ouyang Feng instantly understood, and withdrew his blade. Shangguan Xu followed suit.
They all watched as Young Master Hua vaulted over the rear wall, broke through a formation, and fled toward the outer perimeter of the Wang estate.
The chase stirred up dogs, chickens, and chaos.
The Wang Clan was in full disorder—a boiling pot of panic.
Young Master Hua had escaped.
Mo Hua, satisfied with the drama, got up and left with Murong Caiyun and the others, pursuing the fugitive beyond the estate.
Young Master Hua's movement technique was slick—but to Mo Hua, it was a mere parlor trick.
While he was dashing about, trying to throw them off, Mo Hua had already locked onto him with spiritual sense.
There was no way out of Mo Hua's grasp.
And if he did somehow escape—Mo Hua still had Heavenly Fate Deduction. He could track his karmic trail across cities if he had to.
From the moment Young Master Hua showed himself, he was a dead duck. No escape.
Murong Caiyun's team left the Wang estate and slipped past the clan's interference. Guided by Mo Hua, they arrived—within half an hour—to a remote cave on the outskirts of Luanshan City.
There, they found Young Master Hua, exhausted from running all day, thinking he was safe, meditating to recover.
He looked up in shock.
"How… how did you find me?!"
This cave was his secret hideout. No one else should've known.
Ouyang Feng ignored him, raising his Yellow Maple Sword and declaring coldly:
"Time to die."
Young Master Hua sneered with cocky arrogance. He didn't take them seriously.
If he escaped once, he could escape again.
With his movement technique, he'd always evaded justice in this second-grade city. Who could stop him?
What he didn't know—was that last time, a little cultivator hiding in the shadows chose not to act.
But this time? Mo Hua wasn't holding back.
Young Master Hua smirked and flickered into motion to flee—
But from afar, Mo Hua raised a finger.
Water vapor condensed instantly.
A prison of water crashed down, locking Young Master Hua mid-air just as he stepped to flee—binding him tight.
The arrogance on his face evaporated. Panic flooded in.
Then, like a kite with its string cut, he plummeted to the ground.
Ouyang Feng, holding back rage for a while now, stepped forward and struck him down as he tried to struggle.
Shangguan Xu followed up with several heavy sword strikes.
Murong Caiyun, disgusted by scum like this, didn't hold back—she summoned five-colored spiritual light and seared through his limbs.
Even Hua Qianqian joined in, stabbing him repeatedly with spirit needles, her delicate face full of ice.
Young Master Hua twitched on the ground, begging for mercy—his earlier smugness completely gone.
Chapter 631: The Teahouse
With that, the capture operation came to an end.
Young Master Hua had his legs broken and was shackled in spiritual restraints.
Mo Hua took out his "iron tablet" and ran him through the proper procedure.
They confiscated several jade slips, one harvesting technique, a scroll of evil movement arts, two erotic paintings, some spirit stones, mind-confusing pills, and a number of intimate items belonging to women—like sachets and undergarments.
As soon as these things were "interrogated" out of him, Senior Sister Murong promptly confiscated the whole lot.
Murong Caiyun didn't want Mo Hua to be led astray.
"I'll give you extra merit points later. These filthy things—just let them go. They'll either be turned over to the Dao Court or returned to their rightful owners."
"Oh…" Mo Hua nodded obediently.
He had no use for demonic arts or evil techniques.
But he was interested in studying Young Master Hua's movement technique—to see how it worked and whether it had any flaws.
He also wanted to skim through the jade slips to see if there was intel on other criminal cultivators.
But since Senior Sister Murong didn't allow it, there wasn't much he could do.
After all, a flower thief probably carried around nothing but stuff unfit for kids to see—best not to corrupt his eyes.
Forget it, Mo Hua consoled himself. I didn't want to look that badly anyway…
After that, the remaining tasks were just routine clean-up.
Young Master Hua had been captured and would be escorted to the Dao Court for trial.
That part was completely normal—but what wasn't normal was how the Wang Clan blew up over it.
People generally didn't care what a clan did in secret.
But once it's dragged into the open—this kind of lax family discipline and messy, scandalous domestic affairs—that was fatal to a family's reputation.
Later, after some inquiry, Mo Hua learned the Wang Clan's patriarch and his wife had long since grown estranged. Each played their own game.
The patriarch wasn't exactly a decent man either.
But even he hadn't imagined his wife had gone so far—falling deeply in love with a flower thief, and even keeping him hidden in her private quarters…
Mo Hua could only shake his head.
A scumbag husband and a trashy wife—honestly, they were kind of a perfect match.
But all this romantic mess wasn't Mo Hua's concern. He was still too young to care about these things.
He'd come to catch a flower thief, earn some merit points, and exchange them for array training.
As for the drama? Not his problem.
With Young Master Hua in custody, the mission was complete.
Ouyang Feng and Shangguan Xu escorted the criminal to the Dao Court branch in Luanshan City. They also had to take his statement and file the proper paperwork.
Murong Caiyun and Hua Qianqian, meanwhile, took the items Young Master Hua had stolen—or forcibly taken—from female cultivators: hairpins, scented sachets, intimate clothing, and so on, and returned them to their rightful owners.
Some of the women had been seduced—willing victims of his harvesting.
But others had been forced. Their personal belongings had been stolen afterward, either for extortion or threats.
These items weren't exactly appropriate to hand over publicly to the Dao Court.
So Murong Caiyun, being considerate, handled things privately—she and Hua Qianqian quietly returned the items to the victims.
Whether escorting the prisoner or returning stolen goods, it would take some time.
Everyone split up to handle their tasks and agreed to regroup outside Luanshan City before returning to their sect.
None of this required Mo Hua's involvement.
With nothing to do, Mo Hua wandered around outside the city, enjoying the scenery and waiting for his senior brothers and sisters.
While waiting… he got hungry.
He spread out his divine sense—and spotted a teahouse nestled between green mountains and clear waters, not far from where he stood.
Mo Hua's eyes lit up. He sent Murong Caiyun a message:
"Senior Sister, I'll be waiting at the teahouse outside the city!"
Then he activated Flowing Water Steps, bounding lightly along the mountain path, cheerful as could be, until he arrived at the teahouse.
The teahouse wasn't large, but it had an awning outside, with plenty of tables.
A few scattered cultivators were munching on dried fruit, sipping cool tea, chatting idly.
The shopkeeper was an elderly man, hunched over but all smiles as he greeted him:
"Young master, would you like some tea?"
Mo Hua's stomach answered for him.
"Grandpa, do you have anything to eat?"
The old man looked apologetic.
"We only have dried fruit to go with tea. Some noodles, too, but they're rarely ordered—might not suit your taste…"
"It's fine. One big bowl of noodles, please!"
"Very well," the old man chuckled. "Please wait a moment."
Mo Hua picked a breezy, waterside table with a good view and a clean surface, and sat down.
Soon, a steaming bowl of noodles arrived.
They looked decent. Mo Hua gave them a try—not amazing, but not bad either. He wasn't picky, so he focused on happily slurping them down.
As he ate, his thoughts drifted back to the mission.
Young Master Hua…
If he remembered right, "Young Master Hua" was also one of the names on Boss Jiang's list.
So that guy was also a traitor from some sect within the Qianxue Province?
Why had he suddenly shown up in Luanshan City?
He'd read the Dao Court's file on Young Master Hua before.
The man was extremely cautious, and typically operated in remote second- or third-grade immortal cities outside Qianxue's jurisdiction—places with lax enforcement, decadent customs, and lots of red-light districts.
Perfect hiding spots for flower thieves.
So why had he suddenly come to Luanshan City, of all places, to harvest a few female cultivators from minor clans?
Was it a cultivation mishap?
A compulsion?
Did he actually think that in a second-grade province, no one could catch him?
Mo Hua slurped noodles from his large bowl, deep in thought.
Suddenly—voices approached. He looked up to see a new group of cultivators arriving.
At the front was a tall man with a kind face, followed by two burly men and one thin guy.
"Two pots of tea, two plates of dried meat, four plates of preserved fruit…"
They placed their order, then sat in a quiet corner, chatting in low voices.
Mo Hua didn't pay much attention—he kept eating.
But with his powerful divine sense and sharp hearing, he thought he caught the phrase "Hua Liu-lang".
"Hua Liu-lang?" (Sixth Master Hua?)
Mo Hua blinked. Was he hearing things?
He slowed down, pricked up his ears, and listened carefully.
After a moment, he heard it again:
"Hua Liu-lang…"
"…why hasn't he shown up yet?"
"He said he'd be here…"
Mo Hua's expression shifted slightly.
This "Hua Liu-lang"…
Could it also be Young Master Hua?
Were these people his accomplices
They were in on it together?
Mo Hua didn't show any reaction. He kept his head down, quietly slurping noodles, but his divine sense was already fully extended, eavesdropping on their every word.
"...Missed the time window... Think he can take responsibility?"
"That useless bastard…"
"Lazy donkey always pissing around the grindstone…"
"Can't even keep his pants on, cultivating that trash technique—what a failure…"
"Probably stuck in some whore's bed again…"
"Maybe he died on top of someone…"
"Serves him right if he did…"
…
Mo Hua frowned. The more he listened, the more convinced he became.
He was almost certain the "Hua Liu-lang" they mentioned was none other than the flower thief he and his senior siblings had just captured—Young Master Hua.
What to do?
Should he try and take them all down?
Set up a Groundfire Array and nuke them all at once?
…
Mo Hua shook his head.
He didn't have enough intel. Rushing in blind could cause a major misunderstanding.
Besides, he hadn't had a chance to clearly assess their cultivation levels.
If they were just early-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators, no problem. But if even one of them was mid-stage, that would be trouble.
The Groundfire Array was only a Thirteen-Pattern Array.
It could injure a mid-stage cultivator, but killing one? Unlikely.
Beyond thirteen patterns, most of the arrays he'd studied under Elder Xun were either utility-based or trapping arrays—he hadn't learned many true killing formations.
And the advanced attack formations he did know took too long to set up. With his current divine sense, he couldn't insta-cast those high-tier arrays yet.
Even ten-odd seconds was too slow in a real fight.
Plus, it was broad daylight. Drawing array runes now would be too conspicuous—someone would definitely notice.
Play it safe, Mo Hua told himself.
"Finish the noodles first. Wait for Senior Brother and Senior Sister to arrive…"
"Once they're here, we'll have backup. Then we can figure out how to capture these guys and question them properly…"
Otherwise, making a move alone would be reckless—and risky.
Having made up his mind, Mo Hua resumed calmly eating his noodles.
Still—know your enemy, and you'll never lose.
Mo Hua continued observing the group subtly from the corner of his eye, studying their actions to gauge their strength and any clues about their cultivation methods.
There were four of them in total.
Two of the big guys looked like body cultivators—their qi and blood were strong, but unusually restrained.
Mo Hua was sitting close. Without knowing their true strength, he didn't dare probe them too deeply with divine sense—it might alert them.
Then there was a skinny man—his presence was dark and murky.
He seemed like a spiritual cultivator, but Mo Hua couldn't tell what path of magic he practiced.
And the leader of the group was the tall, kind-looking cultivator.
As the others cursed and complained about "Hua Liu-lang," he remained completely silent—just sipped tea and nibbled on fruit.
He didn't touch the dried meat at all.
Mo Hua found that strange.
He turned slightly, giving the man a closer glance.
And with just that glance—his heart suddenly jolted. A strange feeling of unfamiliar familiarity surged up—as if this man was exactly who he'd been looking for.
But… Mo Hua was sure he didn't know him.
Frowning, Mo Hua looked again, and this time, his pupils contracted sharply.
The tall frame. The benevolent, peaceful expression…
The man wore ordinary cultivator robes, but beneath the sleeve, Mo Hua spotted a faint edge of red cloth embroidered with golden patterns.
And atop his head, though his hair was thick and tied in a topknot, Mo Hua saw a few reddish dots tucked deep within the knot…
A red kasaya. Fire-dot precept scars.
He was— The Fire Buddha?!
(End of Chapter)