MOF Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Recounting the Past, Ink City Filled with Sorrow – Eat a Piece of Saint’s Flesh, Increase Ten…

This man had been poisoned for four days and, seeing death looming, was constantly lamenting his fate. Who would have thought that on his way home in the middle of the night, he would encounter a black-clad, mask-wearing figure who told him the cure for the Seven Yang Poison, completely consistent with the ravings of that madman.

Eating a piece of a saint’s flesh to increase one’s lifespan by ten years was indeed true. The difficulty lay in finding the right person, and that person was currently in Water-Ink Immortal Estate.

The man was already weak with fear, but his desire to live made him bolder than usual, and he asked in a trembling voice, “How do I know if what you’re saying is true?”

The black-clad figure suddenly smiled upon hearing this. He slowly said, “I am the one who concocted the poison, do you think I wouldn’t know? Besides the method I told you, there is no other way to cure this Seven Yang Poison, let alone any so-called antidote. It’s just a delaying tactic by those Immortal Clan people. By the time you all die from the poison, I’m afraid many ignorant people will still praise their non-existent, world-saving deeds.”

The black-clad figure’s words were like a thorn piercing into the man’s heart. Whenever he thought of Mo Nanyi’s concerned and caring demeanor, the thorn would feel alive, digging frantically into his flesh.

Flesh, flesh! He wanted to eat flesh!

Seeing the man’s eyes gleam with a green light, looking like he was starving, the black-clad figure coldly left a sentence, “It’s better to rely on yourself than to ask for help,” and then departed.

Mo Zhong angrily struck the man on the chest, restraining his strength and only causing him to stumble backward a few steps.

“Truly absurd!” He said, his face full of anger. “Where did this lunatic come from, to be so bold!”

However, the common people at this time could no longer listen to Mo Zhong’s words. They only stared at Mo Nanyi, their eyes filled with an intense, frenzied desire to tear and devour his flesh.

Mo Zhong stood in front of Mo Nanyi: “Young Master Nanyi, why don’t you go inside the Immortal Estate first? Let me handle this!”

Mo Nanyi frowned and lifted his sleeve to look, only to see blood dripping, with two rows of deep teeth marks on it.

Just as he was about to speak, a zither sound suddenly rang out from all around. The sound was cold and desolate, like the sorrowful wind blowing through the pines, lamenting thousands of miles. It was also like an icy spring winding around a valley, cheerless and frozen. The Water-Ink Immortal Estate was surrounded by mountains and forests, and the zither sound came from a broken cliff directly opposite.

The black-clad figure wore a mask, adorned with a cluster of flying flower and red butterflies, and was still bowing his head, playing the zither.

The zither music mourns this lonely life, who knows the bitterness within?

Mo Nanyi was slightly surprised: This person is playing “Burial of Clothing and Crown”? Seeming to finally notice the crowd looking at him, the black-clad figure stopped playing and raised his eyes to look at everyone. His black eyes were fierce, his pupils filled with cold light.

At this time, Mo Xin, having reported to Mo Zhinian, rushed over with people.

Mo Nanyi quickly bowed and said, “Father.”

Mo Zhinian waved his hand, indicating that he already knew the details of the matter. Seeing this, Mo Nanyi no longer spoke.

Seeing Mo Zhinian come forward, the crowd couldn’t help but feel more awe and took a few steps back in unison. Seeing this, Mo Zhong couldn’t help but reveal a bit of disdain on his face.

Mo Zhinian looked up at the broken cliff and asked with cupped fists, “May I ask your name?”

The black-clad figure lazily picked up the zither, his voice like a ghost, transmitted through the air: “Why bother knowing the name of a dying person?”

Mo Zhinian’s face changed suddenly upon hearing this.

But then he saw the black-clad figure wave his robe, and in an instant, butterfly wings filled the sky, like black clouds pressing down, sweeping in overwhelmingly. Mo Nanyi immediately drew his sword, the sword light piercing the sky, directly striking the butterfly swarm.

This sword was entirely dark green, surrounded by black mist but without any evil aura. On the contrary, it revealed a sense of clarity, as if it had been extracted from the Water-Ink Cloud Mountains. The words “Tian Shu” were engraved on the hilt, with golden waves and dim light.

A large number of butterflies fell sparsely, their bodies ablaze with flames.

“They are Shadow Butterflies,” Mo Zhinian said in a deep voice.

The newcomer was ill-intentioned.

Mo Nanyi gathered his strength, and the sword shadows became heavy, the cut Shadow Butterflies flying around, sparks scattering wildly. The people of Water-Ink Town retreated one after another, and some even took advantage of the chaos to run into the Water-Ink Immortal Estate.

Seeing this, several disciples had no choice but to quickly use their spiritual power to bind those people.

“Let go of me! Let go of me!” The captured people struggled constantly. “Are the people of Water-Ink Immortal Estate so ignorant of etiquette?”

One disciple said, “Water-Ink Immortal Estate is not to be entered without permission. Clearly, you are being rude first.”

“Bah!” The people cursed angrily. “This poison isn’t afflicting you, so naturally you don’t know the suffering within!”

The disciples ignored them, leaving only one person to block them, while the others hurriedly rushed out. A large number of disciples, hearing the news, poured out of the Immortal Estate and gathered together.

Mo Zhinian shouted, “Form the formation!”

The disciples immediately became solemn, arranged themselves neatly, their sword tips aligned, pointing directly at the black-clad figure. This formation was the Star Dispersal Formation, with a complex sequence and formidable power.

When the wind rises, it sweeps away the clouds; when the light shines, it reflects the pearls of the white sun.

The Star Dispersal Formation was like a transparent ironcover, blocking all the butterfly swarms outside. The sword light of Tian Shu was no longer very bright, and Mo Nanyi’s spiritual power had not yet recovered.

Mo Xin blocked in front of Mo Nanyi, advising, “Young Master Nanyi, please don’t be reckless.”

Mo Nanyi’s face was already pale. He only heard Mo Zhinian shout, “Nanyi, come back quickly!” and then, supported by Mo Xin, retreated backward.

Seeing that the butterfly swarms were about to be completely destroyed, the black-clad figure showed no sign of panic, as if he didn’t expect the Shadow Butterflies to do anything for him in the first place. Sure enough, the zither sound rang out again, but it was no longer the sorrowful sound, but rather a desolate and bizarre one.

The zither sound was intermittent, like a bitter and resentful woman whispering, the timbre was harsh and difficult to listen to, but it summoned a large group of people who were walking with their heads down. Looking at their clothes, they were all people from Ink City!

The black-clad figure raised his hand and tapped the zither strings, lightly ordering, “Kill.”

With a sound of “clang” breaking through the air, those people all jumped off the broken cliff!

A very small number of people fell off the cliff and suddenly lost their voices. Those who landed with their limbs in strange positions lunged towards the crowd without stopping for even a moment…

Near the Mo Tomb, everything was silent. After a long while, Xie Yiling asked in a hoarse voice, “What happened then?”

Nangong Ci looked at him and slowly said, “After that, the various families rushed to rescue them, but there were only corpses covered in blood all over the city.”

The black-clad figure did not continue to attack. Instead, Yan Zhan appeared at this time, going on a killing spree, and capturing the injured Mo Nanyi, taking him down the mountain to divide his corpse among the people of the city, cooking and eating it.

That day, a large pot was set up in Ink City, and the poisoned people, unafraid of the raging fire, gathered around it, either drinking soup or eating meat, their faces full of joyous relief at escaping disaster.

Yan Zhan looked at the surrounding people with a grin, and leaned closer to the black-clad figure to ask, “How is the taste of a saint?”

The black-clad figure remained silent, only glanced at him, and then turned and left. Yan Zhan looked at his back and laughed loudly: “Brother Wen, what are you afraid of?”

That night, by the time the people of Southern Return Heavenly Pavilion rushed over, there were no survivors left in the city. Mo Zhinian knelt halfway at the entrance of Water-Ink Immortal Estate, his body icy cold. Entering the Immortal Estate, searching the courtyard, Mo Changqing had passed away at some unknown time.

Mo Xin and other disciples went down the mountain to save Mo Nanyi, begging the poisoned people to spare the rest of his corpse. When they failed, they drew their swords and committed suicide.

Those people of Ink City who ate Mo Nanyi’s corpse thought they could save their lives, but they did not know that their life and death had long been determined. Yan Zhan, seeing that the time was about right, used a cold sword to slaughter the entire city.

A century-old Immortal Estate was thus annihilated.

Yan Zhan. Xie Yiling silently noted this name in his heart, and then couldn’t help but ask curiously, “Master, who was that black-clad figure who conspired with Yan Zhan?”

Nangong Ci pondered for a moment: “I don’t know.”

Xie Yiling felt resentful: “Master, this Yan Zhan has done so many evil deeds, if we don’t kill him to uphold justice, there will definitely be endless troubles!”

As soon as he said this, he suddenly heard a series of light footsteps all around.

Nangong Ci almost subconsciously stepped forward, but before he could protect Xie Yiling, that person had already appeared in front of them.

The newcomer had ink-black hair and wore blue clothes, with a silver sword shimmering with sharpness. Suddenly seeing a group of people appear in the Mo Tomb, which was deserted all year round, a hint of surprise appeared on his fair face like frost.

“You are?”

Si Wumian recognized the person at a glance and said with surprise, “Third Young Master Gu!”

“Immortal Lord Wumian?” Gu Huanzhi looked surprised. He looked at the cold and aloof man in white beside him and respectfully saluted, “Daoist Fufeng.”

Nangong Ci nodded slightly: “Third Young Master Gu, hope you have been well.”

Gu Huanzhi said happily, “I saw that there was a gathering of evil spirits here, which was very rampant, so I wanted to explore it. I didn’t expect Senior Fufeng to be here, I am fortunate to meet you.”

Nangong Ci nodded at him indifferently, then turned to look at Xie Yiling: “Then I won’t disturb Third Young Master Gu’s business. Let’s go.”

Xie Yiling didn’t have much of an impression of this Third Young Master Gu. He was about to leave with Nangong Ci, but he heard Gu Huanzhi quickly call out, “Senior, please wait!”

Everyone turned their heads to look at him, and Gu Huanzhi said, “I was originally chasing Yan Wuji all the way here, but I didn’t expect to lose track of him. I wonder if you have seen him?”

“What?” Si Wumian was a little surprised. “Are you saying that Yan Wuji is also in Ink City now?”

Gu Huanzhi nodded: “That’s right, but after entering Ink City, I lost track of him.”

Xie Yiling was secretly pondering in his heart, and when he turned his head, he happened to meet Nangong Ci’s eyes. He saw that although Nangong Ci was talking to Gu Huanzhi, he did not remove his gaze that was connected to him: “Since you are catching Yan Wuji, it may not be easy for you alone. It just so happens that we are in Ink City, why don’t we join you?”

Hearing this, Xie Yiling was about to be happy, but a strange feeling flashed through his heart. For some reason, he always felt that Nangong Ci’s words were especially meant for him to hear. Or was he thinking too much?

Gu Huanzhi was surprised and delighted when he heard this, and quickly said, “Really? Thank you, Daoist Fufeng! I don’t know what to call this one?”

Xie Yiling clasped his fists and introduced himself: “I am Xie Ci, courtesy name Yiling, and I am Daoist Fufeng’s disciple.”

Gu Huanzhi’s lips parted slightly in surprise, and he looked at him a few more times: “So it’s Senior Brother Xie. I am Gu Xuan of Wei City, courtesy name Huanzhi.”

Si Wumian said to Nangong Ningan beside him with some eagerness, “I’ve heard about Yan Wuji’s notoriety for a long time, and now I finally have a chance to personally kill him!”

Nangong Ningan said calmly, “That Yan Wuji cultivates ghostly evil arts and is a scourge to all sides. He is not so easy to deal with.”

Si Wumian stared at him with wide eyes and asked, “Don’t you believe me?”

Nangong Ningan said helplessly, “I’m just telling you to be very careful in your actions and not to be reckless.”

Although the two of them spoke softly, their words still reached Xie Yiling’s ears. He suddenly had a guess and said to Nangong Ci, “Master, since that Yan Zhan cultivates ghostly evil arts, could the Yin corpses in the cities be related to him?”

Seeing Nangong Ci’s eyes move slightly, Xie Yiling immediately understood that Nangong Ci also had this suspicion. He chuckled twice and asked in return, “Master, I think it’s very likely, what do you think?”

“Yes.” Nangong Ci affirmed his idea. “Yan Zhan is indeed suspicious.”

At this time, Gu Huanzhi noticed Wen Zilao, who was hanging his head and hunching over, hiding behind Si Wumian, and asked, “Who is this person?”

“Hmph,” Si Wumian’s gentle expression faded, replaced by indifference. “He is Wen Zilao. The evil spirits in Ink City in recent years were created by him using puppetry.”

Gu Huanzhi’s expression turned cold upon hearing this: “Then why not just kill him?”

Xie Yiling interjected, “Didn’t you say that many cultivators came to Ink City before, but none of them returned? But why have we been so smooth all the way here?”

Gu Huanzhi didn’t think for long before he understood: “Are you saying that someone else is instructing him from behind?”

It was clearly Xie Yiling who guided him to guess it, but he smiled slightly and said, “Third Young Master Gu is really smart!”

Wen Zilao, who had been hanging his head, quickly raised his eyes at this moment, and his cold gaze swept across Xie Yiling. This small movement happened in a very short period of time, and he thought that no one would notice.

Nangong Ci’s gaze returned to Xie Yiling, and contemptuous emotions surged in his eyes. He twitched his slightly pursed lips, and a not-so-obvious sneer with coldness flashed by.

Suddenly, Si Wumian felt the rope in his hand sink, and at the same time, his heart also sank. He immediately turned his head, only to see Wen Zilao, who had just been fine, hanging his head and falling to the ground, seemingly having fallen into a coma, but he hadn’t flipped over completely because of the restraint of the rope.