Mochou village was situated at the foot of Mochou mountain in the northwestern part of the Kingdom of Zhao, facing the territory of the demon race from a distance.
Fortunately, it was surrounded by a continuous range of mountains; even if the demon race were to invade, it was difficult for the flames of war to reach the local commoners.
However, a thousand years ago, this place was not actually called “Mochou village,” and Mochou mountain bore the more traditional and elegant name of “Cuiwei.”
The most widely circulated version of its history was a tragic song of sacrifice for the sake of all living beings.
At that time, there was a deep pool within Cuiwei mountain called the “gathering greenery pool.” At some unknown point in time, a “qi of gloomy malice” left behind from ancient times had been suppressed at the bottom of the pool.
As the years passed, the seal gradually loosened, and the malice leaked out. This caused the wilderness to wither and the vitality of the villagers to decay, leaving them in unspeakable suffering.
It just so happened that the once-in-a-century “immortal seeking grand exam” was approaching.
The students in the village were all looking forward to it, hoping to leap through the dragon’s gate, enter the supreme “heavenly way academy,” cast off the title of “rogue cultivator,” and become a proper “immortal cultivator.”
At that time, there was a brilliant young man in Cuiwei village. Because of his open-minded nature, he often comforted his neighbors by saying “do not worry,” and thus earned the title of “Mochou groom.”
He possessed extraordinary natural talent and transcendental comprehension. He had already formed a golden core by the age of 20 and was especially skilled in formation theory and deduction.
He was regarded as the “kirin child” who held the most hope in a thousand years of finally knocking on the academy’s doors.
However, three years before the grand exam, the seal of the gathering greenery pool finally reached its limit.
The qi of gloomy malice rose into the sky like an ink flood dragon emerging from an abyss.
It not only devoured the spiritual energy of the mountains and forests but also transformed into countless phantoms of inner demons, haunting the villagers and cultivators alike, driving them into madness and decline.
The cultivators in the village joined forces to set up a formation, but it was like a mantis trying to stop a carriage.
Seeing that their home was about to be destroyed and the path to seeking immortality was blocked by this filthy malice, their futures ruined, the people wailed in grief.
In this moment of crisis, the Mochou groom attained sudden enlightenment at the mountain peak.
‘We cultivators seek the Dao to protect the Dao. Now that our home is in distress and the Great Dao is obstructed, even if I have talent that reaches the heavens, how can my heart be at peace? What use is the Dao?’
And so, he abandoned his private thoughts of preparing for the exam and seeking personal transcendence. He poured his entire mind into the study of the gathering greenery pool and the qi of gloomy malice.
For over seven hundred days and nights, he observed the stars for deduction, surveyed the ley lines, and observed the flow of energy.
Finally, he found a glimmer of hope from an ancient remnant scroll — it required the pure spiritual body of one person to act as a lead, connecting the ley lines to redeploy the “purifying spirit and transforming malice” formation.
This would guide and transform the qi of gloomy malice to nourish the mountains and rivers once more.
Furthermore, this person needed a profound understanding of the formation’s profound mysteries and a supreme will.
They had to be willing to completely merge their spiritual consciousness, cultivation, and even their life soul into the core of the formation to become the formation eye.
Once this was done, their soul would return to heaven and earth, and their physical body would turn to dust, with no possibility of recovery.
As the day of the grand exam drew near, his classmates all tried to persuade him otherwise, but the Mochou groom only shook his head with a clear smile.
“If I abandon my home today, even if I enter the academy and obtain longevity in the future, where would my Dao heart remain?”
“The suffering of the living beings here would become an eternal inner demon on my path. My mind is made up; I ask that you all do not stop me.”
An altar was hastily built by the gathering greenery pool. On that day, the villagers knelt and bowed through their tears, offering the last of their coarse sacrifices to see him off.
Clad in white robes, the Mochou groom took one last look back amidst the whistling wind. His gaze was clear and calm, devoid of sorrow or joy.
He did not say a word, only nodding and bowing slightly to the crowd, as if to say:
“Henceforth, do not worry.”
Immediately after, he leaped into the boiling heart of the pool.
Using his golden core as the lead, his flesh and blood as the medium, and his lifelong cultivation and soul as the sacrifice.
A vast, clear spiritual energy surged out from where he dissipated. It did not collide with the gloomy malice; instead, it embraced and dissolved it like water, merging with it.
The churning black energy gradually subsided, and the murky water returned to clarity, becoming even more translucent than before. The withered forests sprouted new greenery, and the sallow faces of the villagers regained their color.
The catastrophe was eliminated.
From then on, Cuiwei mountain was renamed “Mochou mountain,” the gathering greenery pool was called “Mochou lake,” and this land became “Mochou village.”
The villagers were grateful for his benevolence and admired his spirit of “sacrificing himself to achieve virtue so that all could live without worry.”
Thus, they passed this story down through generations to warn their children not to forget their roots.
He also became the ultimate role model, inspiring later generations of students to “keep the common people in their hearts and have the courage to take responsibility.”
Before every grand exam, students would go to the shores of Mochou lake to offer sacrifices, praying for the protection of the Mochou groom’s heroic spirit and reminding themselves not to forget their original intention in seeking the Dao.
It was just that in the depths of the lake, it was said there were no more ripples, as calm as if all worries had truly been buried there — along with that young man in white.
“…And that is the story behind this poem.”
Having said this, the waiter could not help but let out a long sigh.
His choice of words was naturally not as good as the professional storytellers on the streets, but in any world, across all ages, those simple, unadorned details were often the most moving.
If not for the fact that this was a public place and she couldn’t embarrass her master, Jiang Keke would have long since stopped pinching her thigh and started wiping away “little pearls” of tears.
However, Yun Heng was still drinking water.
Because the waiter told the story a bit slowly, this was already his fifth cup.
The water temperature was cooling, and the few tea leaves within had grown increasingly bitter.
“Guest, the ‘real’ version says that the Mochou groom wasn’t entirely unprepared back then. He left a small hidden cave dwelling at the bottom of the pool as a backup for the formation core.”
“It’s said that his manuscripts on formation research and some… ahem, ‘materials’ he accumulated are inside. It’s just that the place is hidden and requires a specific formation and extremely precise control of spiritual power to open.”
The waiter added a final remark. Seeing that Yun Heng’s expression remained calm, lacking the sighs and lamentations of a typical listener, he felt slightly surprised.
He lowered his voice and leaned forward as if afraid of being overheard by some entity. “Since you asked, I will be bold enough to say some things that might be considered taboo.”
He cleared his throat, a flash of complexity crossing his eyes. “The most widely circulated version, which even the children in the village can recite, is certainly heart-wrenching.”
“But one of my ancestors once served in the old bureau of local chronicles, responsible for recording local anecdotes, and a different version was vaguely passed down… It’s just that the era is so distant that most clues have been erased. It’s hard to reach a conclusion, so just take it as a story.”
Yun Heng smiled and tilted his chin. “Feel free to speak.”
Right at that moment, two groups of people walked toward Yun Heng.
On one side was Lu Dahan and his party. They had come to the tavern as agreed. Although they were still fully armed, their faces were much more relaxed.
Most likely, yesterday’s patrol had gone smoothly and they hadn’t actually encountered any demons.
On the other side was the tavern manager, whose face looked somewhat grim.
“Young Master Yun.”
“Xiao Hei.”
The two groups spoke at the same time. From Yun Heng’s perspective, they looked quite comical.
Lu Dahan and the others glanced at the manager and took a half-step back, signaling for her to speak first, appearing extremely polite.
This was only because the person who invited them was the eldest young master of the Yun family.
If this were a routine duty, let alone the manager of a marginal tavern in a border town, even the mayor of Mochou village wouldn’t receive a second glance from Lu Dahan and his men.
But there was no helping it; Lu Dahan and his crew knew they were here today to “regain face” for Yun Heng, so there was no way they would lose their manners in front of him.
“I need to see you.”
The manager’s gaze lingered for a few seconds on the demon patrolling token at Lu Dahan’s waist. She then frowned and looked at the waiter called “Xiao Hei.”
The waiter hesitated.
“This isn’t quite right, Manager.”
Yun Heng leisurely took a sip of tea. After setting down the cup, he gestured toward the bag of spirit stones on the table.
“I paid first before asking the waiter to help tell a story. If the story isn’t finished and the person runs off, wouldn’t that make me lose too much face?”
Immediately after, Yun Heng looked at the waiter and said amiably, “You, continue.”
The waiter began to panic.
He had a faint feeling that he had boarded a “thief’s ship.”
The identity of this scholar before him was definitely not as simple as he had imagined! His inquiry into the story was definitely not a casual “unintentional act,” but a “calculated plot” with a clear purpose!
“At most, we can cancel this transaction, I…”
Before the manager could finish her sentence, Lu Dahan drew the long blade from his waist and casually stabbed it into the floorboards, creating a sharp, screeching sound.
“?”
The manager raised an eyebrow. “What is the meaning of this, Demon Inspection Department?”
“No meaning.”
Lu Dahan let out a yawn and sat down grandly beside the waiter. He picked up the teapot with his fan-like large hand and poured it into his mouth.
“It’s just that I’m hungry and want to eat something to fill my stomach.”
He squinted at the manager. “Why are you still standing there? Hurry up and serve the food for me and this young master!”
“You!”
The manager was so angry that the veins on her forehead were about to pop. She pointed at Lu Dahan, wanting to lash out, but she was forced to swallow her words by a single look from the short-haired female cultivator nearby.
“…The Demon Inspection Department will one day pay the price for this arrogance.”
The manager huffed coldly, turned around, and flicked her sleeves as she left.
Before leaving, she gave the waiter a meaningful look, as if saying: ‘You should know what should and shouldn’t be said.’
The waiter was as quiet as a cicada in winter. But with Lu Dahan sizing him up from head to toe, he couldn’t leave, and he couldn’t stay…
Lu Dahan stared at the waiter for a long time until the manager was far away. Then, he turned to look at Yun Heng and said half-jokingly, “I say, Young Master Yun, you didn’t invite us for drinks specifically to resolve these troubles, did you?”
“How could that be?”
Yun Heng smiled. “It’s just a simple drink, and it just so happens that this situation cropped up. That’s all.”
Lu Dahan: “Hahaha…”
Yun Heng: “Hahajajaja.”
The two exchanged pleasantries for a moment longer. Then, Lu Dahan’s tone shifted, and he sighed with a difficult expression.
“However, Young Master Yun, I need to remind you of one thing. In matters not related to the demon race, the authority of our Demon Inspection Department isn’t actually that high.”
“This is still the territory of the Kingdom of Zhao, after all. If there’s some local, internal human illegal business, it’s better to leave it to the Kingdom of Zhao’s enforcement teams.”
“That is why I said, it is just a simple drink and chat. That is all.”
Yun Heng shrugged, repeating his previous words.
“That’s for the best.”
Lu Dahan breathed a sigh of relief.
He was afraid that Yun Heng would use them as coolie labor and get them involved in some grand affair for justice or heroism…
If they weren’t on duty, helping out wouldn’t be a problem, and it could be considered a favor to the eldest young master of the Yun family. But the problem was that they were on duty.
Being able to squeeze out time to return a “favor” to Yun Heng was already their limit.
If they did more useless work, it would be hard to avoid being reported by some petty person, leading to a series of troubles afterward. In a serious case, they might even lose their positions.
“Alright.”
Once the other twenty-three people had joined the tables and sat down, Yun Heng turned his gaze back to the waiter and said softly, “You may continue.”
After a pause, Yun Heng casually picked up a spirit stone from the bag to play with in his hand, adding, “I’m a person who hates it when rules aren’t followed. So, if you want to get these ten spirit stones, you must do as I require.”
The waiter looked at Yun Heng’s handsome face and his seemingly eternally calm and gentle eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed.
He understood Yun Heng’s underlying meaning —
Do not lie. Follow what was promised before and tell the version of the “legend” that he believed to be the most truthful.