Chapter Six: Spiritual Energy

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Wu Luohua and Mo Bai walked side by side, showing no hesitation despite Mo Bai's sensitive background. On the contrary, they conversed freely and openly, and without realizing it, the day slipped into evening.

Both felt time had flown, and there was a sense of meeting too late in life. Mo Bai, having spoken more than usual, cleared his throat unconsciously, “If only we had some wine right now,” he remarked regretfully. “Why don't we find a tavern?”

Wu Luohua chuckled, then retrieved a piece of translucent jade from his sleeve. With a twist of his wrist, the jade revealed a hidden opening, and from within, he produced a wine flask.

A glint appeared in Mo Bai’s eyes. “So the legendary Jade Pouch is truly this wondrous. And who would have thought that an object capable of holding all things wouldn’t be a pouch at all, but a stone?”

Wu Luohua smiled gently. “It was a gift from my grandfather on my eighteenth birthday. That was over three years ago now.”

Mo Bai understood. If anyone could possess such a treasure, it would surely be the Wu family, renowned spiritual cultivators.

Together, Wu Luohua and Mo Bai each took a cup, drinking and conversing merrily. “Mo Bai, you say this Jade Pouch can hold anything, but there is one thing it cannot contain.”

Mo Bai was intrigued. “There’s something even the Jade Pouch cannot hold?”

Wu Luohua replied, “Of course. It cannot hold jade artifacts. Who would have guessed that a treasure made of jade cannot store other jade? Quite the irony, isn’t it?”

Mo Bai laughed. “To me, as long as it holds wine, it’s a fine thing—far more practical than a wine gourd.”

Wu Luohua’s eyes twinkled. “How many people in this world can be as carefree as you, Mo Bai?”

Wu Luohua burst into hearty laughter. Who would have thought that a single word about food could make them the best of friends?

“Mo Bai, have you made any progress with your matter? I hope I won’t have to wait too long for that fresh fish. Uncle Six said he wouldn’t start cooking until you’re free of all burdens,” Wu Luohua asked, though his real concern was when he could taste that fish.

Mo Bai replied calmly, “I’m close, but there’s still one thing missing. If I find it tonight, the truth will come to light tomorrow.”

Wu Luohua didn’t press for details; he trusted Mo Bai would succeed. Suddenly, a sharp whistle pierced the air. Mo Bai said, “Looks like Old Six has come ashore.”

Wu Luohua smiled meaningfully. “Then you’d better hurry.”

Mo Bai nodded, turned, and vanished. Wu Luohua gazed at Mo Bai’s fading silhouette, sighing with a trace of sorrow, “If only I possessed such spiritual power—how marvelous it would be. I could be as free as Mo Bai. Cultivation? I wonder if it’s too late for me at my age.”

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Night fell over a modest courtyard. No one would have guessed that the leading constable of Cloudridge Town, the dignified spirit cultivator Xue Chou, resided in such a humble abode. Yet the room was empty. Like a spirit cat, Mo Bai crouched atop the roof, waiting for Xue Chou’s return.

Soon enough, Xue Chou hurried in from outside. The moment he entered, he stripped off his clothes completely, his body radiating a shifting red glow, as if venting some pent-up force. Mo Bai watched silently, nodding to himself.

When Xue Chou had finished, a bloody gleam flickered in his eyes before he collapsed with a thud. Just then, a cool breeze swept across his face, leaving him dazed. He rose and staggered into his bedroom, then fell onto his bed, snoring loudly.

Mo Bai moved like a ghost, drifting into the courtyard. He searched Xue Chou’s clothes for a book, found it, and smiled to himself. “I didn’t expect Little Hua’s Mistral Powder to be this effective.” With that, he vanished into the night.

At the great manor south of the city—a forbidden place in Cloudridge Town—a respected spirit cultivator lived in seclusion. There, Shun Qing, clad in azure robes, was cultivating his spiritual energy. A subtle trace of sinister energy swirled around him. Suddenly, Shun Qing opened his mouth and exhaled a wisp of blue smoke, as if relishing the sensation. After a while, he steadied his mind and murmured, “At last, I’ve reached this stage. In a few more months, perhaps I can truly contribute to Master’s grand design.” His eyes shone with ambition, and even his spiritual energy seemed to stir.

From a distant treetop, Mo Bai watched the faint, drifting aura. “So, there really is demonic energy here. No wonder—they both practice this art.”

At the Cloudridge Inn, Mo Bai entered to find a young lord gazing at the moon through a window. Mo Bai laughed, “Little Hua, why are you still up?”

Wu Luohua was startled—no one had ever called him that before. But he quickly accepted it. Perhaps it was this nickname that drew them closer, making their afternoon conversation all the more worthwhile. “Little Hua sounds a bit feminine, but it does have a certain charm.”

Mo Bai made a sound of acknowledgment, waiting for Wu Luohua to explain. Wu Luohua gazed at the moon, speaking softly, “Flowers possess both nobility and grace, but how many can truly remain unwithered? Maybe my grandfather’s expectations were too high; he wanted me never to wither. Yet such a heavy burden is hard to bear. Being called Little Hua, on the other hand, lightens my heart. It’s a pity you dislike being called boss. What should I call you then? Second Brother?”

Mo Bai was taken aback and forced a wry smile. “Come on, I’m a few years older than you. Just call me Brother Mo. As for ‘Second Brother,’ let’s save that for the day we meet someone we truly admire enough to call our elder brother. Otherwise, it’d feel odd.”

Wu Luohua laughed softly. “Now I think you’re not so much romantic as you are roguish.”

Mo Bai replied, “Not as roguish as your Mistral Powder, though.”

Wu Luohua shook his head. “That powder was a sacred medicine—only in your hands does it become roguish.”

Mo Bai countered, “Good thing I only used it on men. If it were women, you’d have scolded me to death.”

Wu Luohua exclaimed, “Oh! So Brother Mo used it on men? Impressive, impressive. ‘Roguish’ doesn’t even cover it. What word would suit you best? Let me think.”

Mo Bai was speechless. He reached out and patted Wu Luohua’s shoulder. “What word do you think fits?”

With a cry of surprise, Wu Luohua leapt back, farther than he thought possible. Even Mo Bai was surprised, then burst out laughing.

Wu Luohua realized Mo Bai was only teasing him. He cupped his hands with mock solemnity, “Brother Mo, I concede. I’m sure you like women, and I bet women like you too.”

Mo Bai touched the scar on his brow with a smile. “Maybe so.”

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“Perhaps it’s time we solved the riddle, for Cloudridge Town is not a place for us to linger,” Wu Luohua continued, still gazing at the night sky as if it held endless fascination.

“We? Little Hua, you plan to come with me?” Mo Bai asked.

“Of course. With an expert like you by my side, life will be much easier,” Wu Luohua replied with a mischievous grin.

“So I’m your bodyguard now?” Mo Bai teased.

“Not quite a bodyguard. More like a drinking companion.” As he spoke, Wu Luohua once again produced his Jade Pouch, and another bottle of fine wine appeared.

Mo Bai shook his head. “You really know how to get to me.”

Wu Luohua sighed. “What can I do? I have no spiritual power at all, and the Linglong Continent is full of dangers. I’m not ready to die yet. Besides, there are so many places here I’ve never seen.”

Mo Bai chuckled. “Perhaps soon you’ll have the chance to come with me to a place perfect for cultivating. Maybe you’ll be inspired there and break through your spiritual barriers.”

Wu Luohua looked at Mo Bai. “The case—has it been solved?”

Mo Bai replied, “Tomorrow, I’ll need you to gather the townsfolk to bear witness for me.”

Wu Luohua laughed. “Of course I’ll help. Otherwise, there’s no way I’d get to the Yuntian Sect.”

Mo Bai gave him a mysterious smile, clearly impressed by Wu Luohua’s wit.

“In life, one must seize joy when it comes; never let the golden cup stand empty before the moon.” The two friends poured each other cup after cup, drinking with abandon, though neither knew how long such carefree nights would last.

At dawn, bathed in rosy light, Mo Bai laughed drunkenly. “Little Hua, aren’t you tired?”

Wu Luohua shook his head. “To spend a night in such conversation with Brother Mo—how could I be tired?”

Mo Bai stretched lazily. “Well, I’m off to bed. I’ll wait for your good news.” With a wave, he disappeared into his room and soon was fast asleep.

Wu Luohua was left alone, looking truly afflicted. Surely this man was sent by Heaven to torment him. All Wu Luohua could do was resign himself to this fate.