Chapter 250: Bamboo Rice
"Doesn't this show that this spell is powerful?"
"It's not that powerful," Bai Zisheng raised an eyebrow confidently. "It can only trap me for about two breaths. I can break free with a surge of spiritual power."
Mo Hua said, "In a life-and-death battle, when fate hangs by a thread, those two breaths are enough to decide victory and defeat, life and death."
Bai Zisheng frowned at this and had to admit after thinking for a moment, "You're right."
If one were careless and fell into a trap, even just a couple of breaths could indeed determine life or death.
Mo Hua reminded him, "Be careful in the future. Don't let such obscure spells catch you off guard."
Bai Zisheng nodded solemnly.
He then thought that in this world, there probably weren't many cultivators like Mo Hua, with such strong Divine-Sense, lightning-fast reactions, and extremely obscure spells.
Bai Zisheng felt somewhat relieved.
Opportunities like this were rare; not every cultivator could wield such obscure spells. He wanted to spar a little more with Mo Hua, but if he continued, his homework would remain unfinished.
Reluctantly, Bai Zisheng returned to continue his studies.
After practicing the Water Prison Technique, Mo Hua was about to leave when Bai Zixi suddenly called out to him.
Turning around, Mo Hua saw Bai Zixi's fair hand reach into a storage bag embroidered with elegant pale-gold phoenix patterns and hand him a book.
"What book is this?"
"A culinary manual."
Mo Hua took it and examined it carefully. It was indeed a cookbook, detailing delicacies and cooking techniques from the cultivation world.
The dish names were dazzling: Golden Splendor Hall, Begonia Jade Crisp, Plum Blossoms Reflecting Snow, Dew Lotus, Only Admire Mandarins, Immortal Dew Pearl, and so on.
Mo Hua paused, "For me?"
Bai Zixi glanced at him calmly, "For Aunt Liu."
"Oh."
Mo Hua nodded, realizing she was right. He wasn't a chef, so the manual was of little use to him.
"Consider it a token of thanks for earlier," Bai Zixi said clearly.
Mo Hua smiled, "Thank you. Mother will be delighted to receive it."
Bai Zixi smiled faintly; her brows like a crescent moon, eyes like blooming flowers—pure and stunning.
Mo Hua sighed inwardly, "Why must someone be this good-looking?"
On the way home, Mo Hua flipped through the cookbook, noting what looked delicious. The more he looked, the hungrier he became.
At home, Mo Hua handed the cookbook to Liu Ruhua. "Mother, Zixi asked me to give this to you."
Liu Ruhua glanced at it and smiled, "Please thank Zixi for me."
"Mm." Mo Hua nodded and then pointed to a dish called "Emerald Bamboo Rice," saying, "Mother, I want to eat this."
Emerald Bamboo Rice was made by cutting a segment of emerald bamboo, filling it with fragrant rice, adding green plums, fruits, and fresh spring water, and baking it over a fire.
When cooked, the bamboo's green faded and the rice was done.
Splitting the bamboo, the aroma of bamboo, the slight tartness of green plums, and the fragrant sticky rice blended perfectly—aromatic, soft, and flavorful.
The method wasn't difficult, and the ingredients were simple. Rare ingredients could be substituted.
After some thought, Mo Hua chose this dish.
Liu Ruhua affectionately patted Mo Hua's head, "Alright, I'll make it for you."
...
The next day, Liu Ruhua prepared the ingredients, tried several times, and successfully made the Emerald Bamboo Rice.
Mo Hua took a bite. The texture was soft and fragrant, lingering in the mouth. He squinted with delight, "Mother, it's really delicious!"
Seeing Mo Hua enjoy it, Liu Ruhua's eyes filled with a smile.
Over the next two days, Liu Ruhua made extra portions for Mo Hua to deliver to Mister Zhuang and the Bai siblings.
Mister Zhuang liked the delicate fragrance, nodding in satisfaction.
Bai Zisheng enjoyed it but preferred the spicy taste of demon meat.
The one who enjoyed it most was Bai Zixi. Sitting under the big pagoda tree, she ate gracefully, taking small, delicate bites, finishing three to four bamboo segments quickly.
"Is it really that delicious?" Mo Hua asked, puzzled.
Bai Zixi looked up and handed him a segment.
Mo Hua tasted it and felt it was even better than the one he had eaten before. After finishing it, he wanted more.
Under the big pagoda tree, the two of them ate bamboo segments like two little pandas.
...
With the criminal cultivators' matter settled, Mo Hua's work in the inner mountains, collecting beasts blood, became more convenient.
In the remaining time, besides cultivation, he continued to draw formations, learning formation breaking and Reverse-Spirit Formations.
He first practiced first-grade composite formations, drawing them on paper, then dismantling them himself.
When bored, he practiced the nine-and-a-half-pattern Reverse-Spirit Formation.
Progress in breaking formations was smooth; each composite formation he dismantled improved his ability.
But progress on the Reverse-Spirit Formation was slow.
A complete Reverse-Spirit Formation required ten formation patterns, each pattern's Divine-Sense comparable to Foundation Establishment. Mo Hua's Divine-Sense was still far from sufficient, so he couldn't draw the complete formation.
Even with the incomplete nine-and-a-half-pattern formation, he struggled more with each pattern.
For the tenth pattern above nine patterns, each additional stroke consumed almost as much Divine-Sense as drawing a full pattern previously.
Mo Hua began to doubt himself.
At this rate, could he really achieve Foundation Establishment-level Divine-Sense before actual cultivation?
Even if he could, how many years of formation practice would it require?
Would it take decades…?
Mo Hua worried slightly, then thought:
"I wonder if there's another way to enhance Divine-Sense…"
He considered it and felt it unlikely. Among the cultivators around him, his Divine-Sense growth was already the fastest.
Even Zisheng and Zixi, with better spiritual roots and higher cultivation, had inferior Divine-Sense.
The Bai family was a great clan, and Zisheng and Zixi were outstanding. This showed that even in a major clan or sect, Mo Hua's Divine-Sense was, if not unique, at least among the few exceptional.
For now, there seemed to be no better method.
Mo Hua sighed, focused, and stopped overthinking.
If he could only rely on formations, then he would persevere in drawing them.
One day, as long as his Divine-Sense kept growing, it would eventually reach Foundation Establishment level—just a matter of time.
...
About ten days later, Mo Hua met Yu Chengyi and noticed his grave expression. "Uncle Yu, what happened?"
Yu Chengyi, deep in thought, looked up and saw Mo Hua. Thinking Mo Hua would eventually know anyway, he didn't hide it:
"Something happened. Those criminal cultivators acted again."
"The bald one?"
Yu Chengyi nodded. "Yes."
Mo Hua was surprised. "He killed and looted again?"
"This time he ambushed a merchant convoy—over twenty cultivators. All disappeared. No bodies were found, only traces of blood."
Mo Hua's heart skipped a beat; he felt uneasy, then puzzled. "Weren't there previous convoy attacks? What's different this time?"
Yu Chengyi's expression was unusually grave.
"It's different," he sighed. "First, more cultivators were attacked, and apparently none survived. Second, among this convoy, there was a cultivator of special status."
"A big shot?" Mo Hua asked curiously.
"Not exactly," Yu Chengyi replied, asking Mo Hua, "Do you remember the Kong family?"
"The Kong family from Qingxuan City?"
"Yes."
Mo Hua remembered naturally—the Kong family had driven Uncle Ji and his son into exile, destroyed the Fu Lan family, and oppressed scattered cultivators in Qingxuan City through bribery.
"There was a direct heir of the Kong family in this convoy, Kong Sheng."
(End of chapter)