Mo Shan had left the house early. According to Liu Ruhua, he was to join several Monster Hunters to head for the Inner Mountain, so he had to leave earlier to prepare.
When they arrived at the Outer Gate of Tongxian Gate, Liu Ruhua paid the tuition, completed the enrollment, and couldn’t help but take a few more glances at Mo Hua.
Once he entered Tongxian Gate for cultivation, unless the Sect gave holidays during festive seasons, she wouldn’t be able to see her son on regular days.
Liu Ruhua repeated several pieces of advice to Mo Hua to cultivate well, get along with his fellow disciples, eat well, dress well, and not to bully others. Then she reluctantly went back home.
Mo Hua stood outside the gate waving his hand until Liu Ruhua’s figure disappeared at the corner, then he turned around.
Instead of entering the Sect, he first went to Fated Gathering on the North Main Street, found Fatty Steward to receive materials for twenty sets of Bright Fire Formations, agreeing to deliver them by the latest in half a month.
The Sect had a day off every ten days at the beginning, middle, and end of the month. Mo Hua planned to slip out during these breaks to trade with Fatty Steward.
For the twenty sets of materials, Fatty Steward still took only ten Spirit Stones as a deposit. Given the pleasant past cooperations with Mo Hua’s… elder brother, and the increasing quality of the formations provided, Fatty Steward was very satisfied and kept the deposit the same in consideration of Mo Hua’s face.
After negotiating with Fatty Steward, Mo Hua left Fated Gathering satisfied.
After Mo Hua left, he didn’t notice a burly man quietly watching him from outside Fated Gathering.
Once Mo Hua had departed, the man entered the entrance of Fated Gathering.
The sound of a doorbell chimed, and Fatty Steward looked up to see a plainly dressed but handsome and upright man with sharp brows and bright eyes looking at him with an inquisitive gaze that bore an aggressive edge.
Fatty Steward realized at a glance that this man was a Monster Hunter, a true Monster Hunter who had seen blood! And his attitude was not good, looking at him as if he were a Monster Beast waiting to be butchered.
Fatty Steward believed his own Cultivation was not inferior to that of this man, but if it came to a fight, it was hard to say. After all, Monster Hunters lived on the edge of blade and blood, battling for life against Monster Beasts.
Whereas he spent his years sitting in front of a counter and it had been who knows how long since he had touched a sword, his skills in combat had become rusty.
After weighing his options, Fatty Steward straightened his demeanor and cautiously asked, “This Taoist friend, may I ask what formation you need?”
The burly man was Mo Shan. He spread out a crumpled piece of paper, upon which a formation had been copied. There were some mistakes in the copying, thus there were erasure marks visible.
“What formation is this?”
Fatty Steward glanced at it and replied, “It’s a Bright Fire Formation.”
“Do you accept this kind of formation?”
The man’s tone made Fatty Steward uncomfortable. On a normal day, he would have dismissed it, but today he felt a guest who enters is a guest indeed and should be treated with courtesy and thoroughness.
“Of course, we accept it. This is a commonly used formation, regularly needed by ordinary Cultivator families, so there’s a significant consumption,” Fatty Steward said.
Mo Shan asked, “That child who just left, does he also draw formations for you?”
Fatty Steward replied, “Such matters cannot be disclosed; Fated Gathering protects the privacy of its customers, which is a principle of our business.”
Mo Shan’s gaze suddenly bore down like a knife, and the uncomfortable Fatty Steward pondered briefly, feeling that a Cultivator should not be too rigid; principles could be flexibly adhered to.
“Not that child, it’s his elder brother.”
Mo Shan frowned, “Elder brother?”
Fatty Steward said, “Yes, how much could such a young child know about drawing formations? He’s just running errands for his elder brother; it’s his elder brother who draws the formations.”
“Is that what he told you himself?”
“Of course,” Steward answered, “otherwise, why would we do business with a child?”
After finishing, Steward looked at Mo Shan warily:
“As for the child’s surname, first name, and where he lives, I cannot possibly tell you.”
Mo Shan glanced at Fatty Steward dismissively, would I, as his father, not be clear about this child’s surname, first name, and where he lives, that I would need you to tell me?
However, knowing Mo Hua was not being exploited, Mo Shan’s attitude softened, and he cupped his fists towards Fatty Steward, stating, “I apologize for the disturbance, I will take my leave.”
Fatty Steward let out a sigh of relief internally, showing a hint of pride as he nodded in acknowledgment.
As Mo Shan turned and left, Fatty Steward didn’t breathe easily until his figure disappeared behind the door, then he muttered discontentedly in a low voice, “And he didn’t even buy anything…”