Immortality Through Array Formations

Chapter 1112: Chapter 684: Tricolor Carp_2 Chapter 1112: Chapter 684: Tricolor Carp_2 Only because he was handsome and charming, he naturally attracted a few more glances.

Mo Hua just like that, brazenly “blended” into the village, and when he approached the house of the elder Fish Cultivator, he slowed his pace.

That elder Fish Cultivator was cooking fish soup and after a moment, lifted his head and saw Mo Hua who “just happened” to be passing by, he first startled, then delighted, eagerly greeted:

“Young brother!”

Mo Hua pretended not to hear.

The Fish Cultivator called out again: “Young brother, it’s me!”

Only then did Mo Hua turn around, feigning surprise: “Uncle?”

The Fish Cultivator, with a smile on his face, invited: “Come, come, I just made some fish soup, it’s fresh, come and try some.”

Mo Hua bashfully said: “That’s too kind of you.”

The Fish Cultivator sternly said, “What’s there to be embarrassed about, young brother? You helped us out, offering you a fish to eat is only right, isn’t it?”

After saying this, he immediately spoke to his family:

“This young brother here, is a Sect Disciple, and an impressive Formation Master. That day, the formation on our fishing net was repaired by him…”

Upon hearing this, his whole family looked at Mo Hua with respect and admiration.

These Fish Cultivators were of low origin with limited Spiritual Roots, barely any child could enter a Great Sect.

Let alone become a Formation Master, they didn’t have even one.

Another person said: “Young brother, don’t be polite, the fish soup won’t be fresh anymore once it cools down.”

This person was the son of that elder Cultivator, who had also seen Mo Hua on the earlier occasion.

Mo Hua, with a smile, responded: “Then I shall respectfully comply!”

And so, Mo Hua freeloaded a meal in the little fishing village.

The fish soup was very fresh, though simply made and lacking in spices, the freshly killed and boiled essence made it rather tasty.

But it did not contain much Spiritual Energy.

These were actually the lowest quality Spiritual Fish, relatively cheap, something the lower-level Fish Cultivators ate to fill their bellies.

And it was only to have a taste; it wasn’t enough to fill one up.

What the Fish Cultivators really ate to get full was a kind of pale grey, bitter and hard flour product that could ward off hunger.

Mo Hua only ate a tiny bite and couldn’t continue because it tasted awful.

But these Fish Cultivators had to swallow down the unpalatable food along with the fish soup.

No matter how bad it tasted, they had to eat it, otherwise, they wouldn’t have the energy to go down to the river and catch fish.

Mo Hua sighed softly in his heart.

Later on, he learned from chatting that this family’s surname was Yu, which was quite common in this small fishing village.

The elder Fish Cultivator was known as “Old Yu,” at the Foundation Establishment Early Stage.

His eldest son, named Yu Dahe, was in the Foundation Building Middle Stage Realm, which Mo Hua had previously met.

Yu Dahe had a wife and two sons. Although three generations under one roof were poor, they did their best to live on.

“By the way, young brother,” Old Yu suddenly curiously asked, “what brings you to our village?”

Mo Hua, still drinking the fish soup, used an excuse to say,

“I wanted to buy a few more nets, the last ones got damaged by a large fish I caught.”

“That’s easy to solve.” Old Yu did not doubt his word, “I’ll give you a few later, we make them ourselves, the materials might be a bit inferior, and they might look rough, but they are definitely durable.”

Mo Hua smiled: “Thank you, Uncle Yu.”

Then he was a bit confused, “Uncle, do you have to make your own fishing nets?”

Old Yu shook his head: “There are some in the city’s Refinery Shops, but they are too expensive, it’s not worth spending that much Spirit Stones.”

“It just so happens the crafting of these nets is not complicated, so we make them ourselves.”

Old Yu sighed: “We Fish Cultivators are poor and need Spirit Stones for many things, saving one where we can…”

After finishing, Old Yu self-deprecatingly said, “As an old man, I am in a dire state, young brother, please don’t disdain me.”

Mo Hua shook his head, “When I was young, my family was also very poor, roughly the same as you are now.”

Old Yu was taken aback, then assumed Mo Hua was just comforting them, and kindly smiled.

“By the way,” Mo Hua asked, “Uncle Yu, do Cultivators from outside the village often come here?”

Old Yu, not suspecting a thing, pondered for a moment before answering:

“Not very often…”

“Sometimes some come to buy fish, some to check prices, and when some houses become vacant, other Cultivators might stay for a while…”

“Vacant houses?” Mo Hua questioned.

“Yep,” Old Yu, having finished his meal, seemingly from nowhere, drew a roll of bitter tobacco and took a silent puff, his tone casual:

“When people die, houses become vacant.”

Mo Hua’s gaze slightly darkened.

Old Yu smacked his lips, shaking his head:

“Being a Fish Cultivator isn’t a good living, big storms can kill, and even without big storms, people still die.”

“One year there was a family, father and sons, three of them braving the big waves to fish in the Mistwater River, but a huge wave came, flipped the boat, and all three sank to the bottom of the river, got eaten by Water Demons…”

“Their house also became vacant…”

“This kind of thing happens several times every year, some old Fish Cultivators are still alive and well, but all their offspring are dead; some couples were newlyweds, the husband got pulled into a whirlpool and drowned, leaving the wife a widow; there are months of big winds and waves, making it impossible to fish, and some starve at home; there are also Fish Cultivators who find life too bitter, unable to bear it, they move away to seek a living elsewhere, now we don’t even know if they’re dead or alive…”

“Therefore, houses become vacant every year…”

Old Yu took another puff of his cigarette, his emotions stable as if he had become somewhat numb to it.

“Even when the storms aren’t big, people still die?” Mo Hua pressed.

Old Yu cleared his throat with a light cough, sighing, “When there are no big storms, there’s more fish for the Fish Cultivators to raise and catch, which means a surplus of fish and naturally, the prices drop, so it doesn’t really earn much more than during the big storms…”