"Something... is calling to you?"
"Mm." Tusheng nodded.
"What... is it?" Mo Hua asked in a low voice.
Tusheng frowned. "I can't really say. My head often gets muddled. Mostly late at night, occasionally during the day, between waking and sleeping, I'll vaguely hear a voice."
"It's very low, very hoarse, like a rotten throat trembling. It doesn't sound like human speech, but I seem to understand what it means. It calls my name, telling me to go somewhere."
"I'm a little afraid, but I can't resist it. During the day it's better, but at night... I can't control myself. I lie down before sleep, but once I fall asleep, when I open my eyes, I'm not in bed anymore, as if I'd walked in my sleep."
"It's happened a few times. The other officers all look at me strangely, like I'm a monster."
"I couldn't help it. Every night before sleeping, I tie myself to the bed with the rawhide restraints from the Dao Court Department."
Tusheng pulled up his sleeve, revealing deep ligature marks on his arm.
Clearly, to keep himself from wandering after falling into deep sleep, Tusheng had gone to great lengths and suffered a great deal.
Seeing this, Mo Hua felt pity. "Have you told anyone about these things?"
Tusheng shook his head. "No... I didn't dare."
Mo Hua asked again, "You didn't tell Director Gu either?"
Tusheng hesitated for a moment, then said, "Director Gu is very busy and often goes out, a few days at least, half a month at most. Besides... I think Director Gu has a cold, forbidding face; he doesn't seem like a good person."
Gu Changhuai was a man of the Dao Court Department.
In Tusheng's understanding, everyone in the Dao Court Department was a hawk, a running dog. Since Gu Changhuai was a Director, a big leader, he was a big hawk, a big running dog.
His own problem was too bizarre; naturally he couldn't tell Director Gu.
Mo Hua didn't say much more. Tusheng came from poverty, and toward someone with the Dao Court's authority like Director Gu, he felt instinctive fear and rejection. This couldn't be explained away in a few words.
Mo Hua pondered for a moment, then asked again, "Do you know where the voice in your dream wants to lead you?"
Tusheng was honest. "I tied myself up, so I never went. I don't know."
Mo Hua asked, "Then in the dream... is there any image?"
Whenever one dreams, hears a voice, or receives a call, what one perceives is all illusion.
But all illusion in the world must be mediated by reality.
Even an evil god needs a real natal idol as its parasitic vessel.
"Have you ever... sensed or seen any strange scene in the dream?" Mo Hua asked softly. "Think carefully."
"I..." Tusheng frowned.
He didn't want to think about it.
The call in his dream terrified him, so he avoided it.
Thus he didn't dare listen or look.
But now that Mo Hua asked, Tusheng found it hard to refuse.
"I'll try..." Tusheng forced himself to recall the things in the dream he had previously not dared to face.
As the memories came back, the evil mist parted a little. Tusheng's frown deepened, and his voice became somewhat hoarse:
"There's... soil."
"Soil?" Mo Hua's gaze stilled.
"Yes, soil. Lots and lots of soil... above and below, all soil..." Tusheng's pupils began to tremble.
"And many shadows... I don't know what shadows. Big and small, some were huge, like little hills, and some were very small, like infants."
"Then... there was..."
"There was..."
Tusheng's voice came to an abrupt halt, then quickly turned into inexplicable sobbing.
Mo Hua's expression changed slightly.
Tusheng's face suddenly began to show fear, as if he had seen something he shouldn't have. Cold sweat poured down like rain.
"..."
Tusheng couldn't speak. The pupils in his eyes suddenly vanished, leaving only the whites. The whole person struggled wildly, like a drowning man.
It was as if some existence was dragging him down into an unknowable abyss.
Tusheng was terrified, but no matter how he struggled, he couldn't break free from that horrible existence.
His flesh also began to turn pale gray.
Just as Tusheng was trapped in overwhelming fear, his body trembling, on the verge of a strange mutation, Mo Hua pressed a finger to his brow.
A stream of thought force, golden, pure, gentle, yet containing overbearing authority, poured into Tusheng's sea of consciousness, dispelling some of the illusion and confusion, and allowing Tusheng's nearly scattered heart-spirit to condense again and slowly settle.
At this moment, Mo Hua had not yet learned any sophisticated heterodox arts; he could only rely on the power of his own divine thought to suppress evil and exorcise baleful forces.
Under Mo Hua's suppression, Tusheng's abnormality slowly receded. His complexion regained its blood color from the gray-white.
Within his blank eye sockets, black pupils grew back.
Tusheng also recovered his divine sense from the phantoms of the nightmare.
Soaked in cold sweat, he looked at Mo Hua with astonishment, his voice hoarse as a corpse:
"Master..."
Mo Hua shook his head and said gently, "Don't speak yet. Steady your heart-spirit and forget everything in your mind."
Tusheng slowly nodded, then followed Mo Hua's words, kept silent, and steadied his heart-spirit.
Mo Hua had an air about him that calmed people.
Staying with Mo Hua, with Mo Hua's finger pressed to his forehead, Tusheng indeed felt much more comfortable in his heart-spirit. Before long, he cast everything aside.
After two sticks of incense, Tusheng slowly opened his eyes again.
Mo Hua asked, "How is it?"
Tusheng nodded. "Much better."
Although his voice was still a little hoarse, it was already a human voice.
Mo Hua looked at Tusheng's eyes and nodded slightly.
Tusheng was still immersed in his earlier terror, his voice still trembling:
"Master... what was that? Am I... Do I have some problem? Am I..."
Tusheng swallowed, his expression pained, and said with difficulty, "Not human anymore..?"
Mo Hua's heart jumped, but his tone remained calm: "Who told you that? How are you not human?"
Tusheng was startled, and murmured, "But... I..."
Mo Hua said, "What you're experiencing is very normal."
Tusheng was stunned. "I... am normal?"
Mo Hua nodded firmly. "In this world, there are all kinds of strange people. Different births, different Eight Characters, different cultivation inheritances, different cultivation experiences—all of these shape different fate patterns and create different temperaments."
"Your situation is only that you suffered a sudden tragedy, grieved too much, and worry turned into illness. Add in the demonic cultivator's evil technique that temporarily affected your sea of consciousness, you just have nightmares easily. It's a very normal disorder of divine sense. No need to worry."
Tusheng listened to Mo Hua's confident explanation and believed it somewhat in his heart, but he still felt that Master Mo might be deceiving him.
"Master, but I feel... I really have a problem," Tusheng said.
Mo Hua asked, "Do you know the saying 'A poor alley breeds many strange things'?"
Tusheng shook his head.
Mo Hua said, "'A poor alley breeds many strange things' means that because you have little learning, little experience, and narrow understanding, whenever you encounter something unfamiliar, you make a fuss."
"I see..." Tusheng nodded.
What the master said, though unpleasant to the ear, seemed to make sense.
In terms of learning, experience, and understanding of cultivation, how could he be compared with Master Mo?
Now that Master Mo said he was normal, it meant that Mo Hua definitely had experience with such matters.
He was ignorant and narrow-minded; how could he dare deny the master's words?
Tusheng reflected on himself for a while, and inexplicably felt much lighter, no longer so nervous or afraid.
When his parents were alive, they often told him that if a person was stupid, he should listen to the words of learned masters.
Clearly, he was stupid; what he thought was mostly false.
And Master Mo was clearly the kind of learned master; his words must be true.
Tusheng said solemnly, "Master, I understand. Thank you for your guidance."
Mo Hua nodded casually, then took out an unremarkable yellow cloth with faint, mysterious Divine Path patterns woven into it.
"Keep this. When you sleep at night, or when you feel your divine sense groggy during the day, stick it to your forehead. It will protect your sea of consciousness, settle your divine soul, and keep you from nightmares."
Tusheng's expression changed. He took the yellow cloth from Mo Hua's hand with reverence, shocked, and asked:
"Master, what is this..."
Mo Hua said, "It is a treasure with divine talisman script written by a master, consecrated by a great master. It wards off evil, calms the spirit, and has wonderful uses."
Hearing this, Tusheng grew even more shocked. After accepting it solemnly, he was momentarily too grateful to speak.
"Master, your great kindness, I will never forget."
Tusheng wanted to kneel and kowtow to Mo Hua, but Mo Hua held him up with one hand.
Mo Hua said, "Don't overthink. Just cultivate in peace."
"Treat the voice in your dream as if it were nothing. Whatever you see, regard it as unseen."
"In this Dao Court Department, you don't need to feel guilty, or cowardly, or timid."
"Just consider yourself a normal officer. Do your work honestly, keep the rules quietly, and no one will dare to do anything to you."
"If there is anything unusual, don't take it to heart. These are all very normal things. Eat when you should eat, sleep when you should sleep."
Tusheng's expression did indeed calm down. He nodded seriously.
"All right, go about your business," Mo Hua said. "I need to see Director Gu later."
Tusheng cupped his hands and bowed to Mo Hua, saying respectfully, "Thank you, Master, for showing me the way. I won't disturb you."
"Go ahead." Mo Hua gave a slight nod.
"Mm."
Tusheng turned around, took a deep breath, as if a weight had been lifted, and his steps were much lighter.
After Tusheng left with a relaxed face, Mo Hua was alone in the secret room.
Mo Hua's expression slowly sank, and his eyes became as deep as an abyss.
Living-Dead Corpse Embryo...
What exactly was calling Tusheng? Calling this... Living-Dead Corpse Embryo?
If Tusheng were called over, what would happen?
Mo Hua tapped his fingers on the table, his heart heavy.
In this Kun Prefecture, there must exist some indescribable, terrifying existence.
He increasingly felt that he was drawing closer to that existence, even encountering from time to time strange signs that seemed ordinary but, once dug into, were unfathomable.
This showed that karmic causality was guiding him.
Yet between him and that existence, and the truth of Kun Prefecture, there always seemed to be a thin veil, a faint mist.
It seemed within reach, but he could not pierce it or see through it.
The player is lost, the onlooker sees clearly.
But in this world, there was no onlooker.
As long as one is alive, everyone is a player. Trapped in the game, as if in fog, standing in danger without knowing it.
At the same time, an inexplicable sense of urgency surged in Mo Hua's heart.
He felt that the present situation resembled the direction of the Great Wilderness back then.
If he could not see through the fog in advance and lay his plans early, then once the fog scattered and the truth was revealed, it would likely be the moment disaster exploded.
As with the situation in the Great Wilderness then, when the fog lifted, it was the moment Senior Uncle's true body appeared and the Ghostly Path descended.
Everything was beyond saving.
Mo Hua took a deep breath. It felt as if a boulder were pressing on his heart, with an indescribable heaviness.
Mo Hua sat alone in the secret room, thinking for a long time. Then he rose, pushed open the door, and left the secret room.
After leaving, he went to the main hall and found an officer of the Gu family. He asked about Uncle Gu's schedule and learned that Uncle Gu would be coming on duty in about an hour. He then found a table and waited patiently.
An officer served Mo Hua tea.
It was the best tea in the Dao Court Department.
But Mo Hua had drunk too much of Little Orange's clear tea, and his palate had become picky, so he found it bland.
Still, he sipped it slowly, thinking while he drank.
Before he had finished a pot of tea, Mo Hua's divine thought stirred, and he sensed a familiar aura. He looked up and, sure enough, saw Uncle Gu, imposing and tall in the standard black Dao Court Department robe, walking toward him.
But his steps were somewhat hurried, his brow was slightly furrowed, and he carried a cold, baleful aura.
This was...
Mo Hua's heart moved. He tucked his fingers into his sleeve and made a quick calculation. A turn of causality passed through his heart, and his face slowly sank.
When Gu Changhuai saw Mo Hua, he started, then his expression grew complicated and he seemed to want to speak but hesitated.
Mo Hua said, "Let's find a place to talk."
Gu Changhuai nodded.
Gu Changhuai led Mo Hua to a more confidential study, where many files and jade slips were placed, looking like Gu Changhuai's usual office.
After the two sat down, before Gu Changhuai could speak, Mo Hua had already asked, "Something happened?"
Gu Changhuai froze for a moment. But he was experienced and not surprised by Mo Hua's soothsayer-like display.
"Yes." Gu Changhuai was silent for a moment, and did not hide it. He let out a heavy sigh. "In the Great Spiritual Field Realm... a riot has broken out."
Mo Hua's pupils shrank. "A riot?"
Gu Changhuai nodded, his expression indescribably complex and grave. "A riot."
Mo Hua asked, "Specifically where?"
Gu Changhuai shook his head. "As far as we know, only in Qingchou, Guitian, Huangrang, and Nansui—these four lesser state-realms, each in a small part of the area, have spiritual farmers gathered in crowds, and unrest has sprouted."
"The rest of the large areas are still stable, no abnormalities, but..."
Gu Changhuai's pupils trembled slightly, with some inexplicable tension.
Mo Hua understood in his heart.
Stable for now, was only "for now."
A riot was like a spark. It might seem faint, but once it caught fire, in the blink of an eye, like wildfire fanned by spring wind, it could blaze across the plains and plunge the whole land of Kun Prefecture into violent turmoil.