The fat cultivator feigned concern as he reminded him.
Kong Sheng said, “Don’t worry, I won’t run, you hurry and pass on the message.”
The fat cultivator sneered, turned, and walked away. Halfway through, he spat at the iron door and snorted, “What trash, stupid as hell!”
Seeing his reaction, Mo Hua knew that he would definitely pocket the Jade Pendant and do nothing, gaining five hundred Spirit Stones for nothing.
Mo Hua shook her head, quietly flipped over the wall, saw that nobody was around, and disabled the roof’s Formation. Removing a tile, she stealthily looked inside.
The room was simple and shabby.
By the door stood a young cultivator, dressed in luxurious, but now ragged clothing, seemingly having gone through many hardships.
It must be the legitimate Young Master of the Kong Family, Kong Sheng.
Mo Hua couldn’t help but mutter to herself:
“It’s true what they say, ‘the good die young, while evil lingers for a thousand years.’ This Kong Sheng is so lucky, so dumb, and yet he managed to survive in the hands of Evil Cultivators.”
She then sighed, wondering what the Kong Family had taught him that his head was filled with such nonsense.
To even think about rewarding Evil Cultivators with Spirit Stones to get them to do your bidding.
They’d be kind enough to give you a meal, sparing your life would already be generous.
As Mo Hua’s thoughts churned, she saw Kong Sheng suddenly lose his temper.
Kong Sheng picked up his bowl of rice, took a few bites, made a face as if to spit it out, then forced himself to swallow it down.
Anger and frustration surged within him.
He started throwing and smashing things around, flailing his fists and feet in fury, while cursing angrily:
“They should all die! They all fucking deserve to die!”
“What are they anyways, to ride over my head—I had to beg them to work for me, go to hell!”
He then seemed to remember all the humiliating, unbearable, and disgraceful incidents of the journey.
Remembering how he had to kneel before those Evil Cultivators, crying and claiming to be the Young Master of the Kong Family, begging for his life.
He thought of the mockery and laughter on the faces of the Evil Cultivators.
Kong Sheng’s eyes reddened with rage as he roared in a low voice:
“It’s all because of that damn Ji family father and son!”
“Had you not provoked me, I wouldn’t have thought about killing you. I wouldn’t have left the city, and I wouldn’t have ended up in this mess!”
“And that Fu Lan, nothing but a cheap woman! She’s just a little pretty and pretends to be so pure—refusing to submit to me!”
“Once I get my hands on you, I’ll make you wish you were dead!”
“And those Evil Cultivators too, for humiliating me like this, looking down on me, you all deserve to die!”
“You all deserve to die!”
…
Kong Sheng’s expression was hysterical.
Listening to him, Mo Hua gradually furrowed her brows.
It was his own wrongdoing, his own fault that led to this predicament, yet he always felt that others were to blame.
And with such a strong desire for vengeance, his nature was indeed malicious.
“It seems that before I leave, I need to find a way to make sure Kong Sheng stays in the Black Mountain Stronghold forever.”
Mo Hua silently contemplated.
Bad people should stay where bad people belong.
Kong Sheng and the Black Mountain Stronghold were quite a match.
But she had to wait until he finished drawing the Map.
Two days later, with the Map of the Black Mountain Stronghold seventy to eighty percent complete, Mo Hua was feeling hungry and was eating in the stronghold’s dining hall.
While she was eating, she heard the old man in charge of the dining hall cursing the fat Cultivator.
“The pastries prepared for the third Householder have been stolen… I asked you to watch them, and you couldn’t even do that properly. What use are you?”
Pastries for the third Householder?
Mo Hua paused, looking at the half-eaten pastry in her hand.
This was for the third Householder?
No wonder…
She thought the pastry wasn’t so bad, which was why she ate more of it.
Meanwhile, the old man in the dining hall kept cursing.
Due to his seniority, he was stubborn and harsh, his words were unsavory, and he berated the fat Cultivator until he was thoroughly humiliated.
The fat Cultivator didn’t dare to talk back.
After the old man finished scolding, he huffed and left.
The fat Cultivator stood still, his eyelids twitching with anger as he cursed:
“Whoever the bastard is stealing food, if I find out, I’ll make sure you die a horrible death!”
Mo Hua, still nibbling on the pastry, froze upon hearing this, then slowly licked her lips as a cold glint flashed in her eyes.
Bastard?
Die horribly?
“Not only does he curse at me, but he also wants me dead?”
Mo Hua watched the fat Cultivator silently, her thoughts racing as she considered whether she should get rid of this fatso first.