Beiyan Chapter Fourteen: Losing Oneself to Madness

At the dining table, Mo Hao stared in astonishment at the dishes brought out one after another. The finest meal he had ever tasted was at Han Qing’s father’s birthday banquet, yet the dishes Qian Yiwen ordered today were all unfamiliar to him, not to mention that he had never even seen them before.

Qian Yiwen noticed Mo Hao’s dazed gaze and smiled, saying, “Little mouse, eat up quickly, why are you spacing out?”

Mo Hao instantly felt quite embarrassed. After they had a hearty meal, when Mo Hao went to settle the bill, he discovered that dining on the second floor could only be paid for with spirit stones. The cost of half a spirit stone left him inexplicably aching in his heart, cursing the cunning merchants in his mind.

He glanced back at the Phoenix Tower. Coming to Yue City this time and unexpectedly meeting an old acquaintance was a pleasant surprise. Qian Yiwen even wanted to invite Mo Hao to a gathering at her family estate, but Mo Hao, thinking of the pressing matters at hand, politely declined.

After escorting her to the entrance of the Qian residence, Mo Hao did not enter but returned to the Phoenix Tower. He intended to find a guest room to rest. He thought about sneaking in by following someone with a silver token to the first floor, but two guards at the entrance stopped him.

Helpless, Mo Hao realized that entry required at least a silver token. Unsure if the rusty iron token given by Feng Xing would be accepted, Mo Hao mustered his courage and took out the worn token. The two guards exchanged glances, then one hurried inside while the other motioned for Mo Hao to wait.

After a short while, a captivating woman appeared. The guard quickly stepped aside. Mo Hao took a closer look and sensed that the woman had cultivated to the early stage of the Qi Condensation realm.

The woman glanced at Mo Hao with some surprise. She did not expect someone so young to present such a token. Taking the iron token, she infused it with her magic to inspect it, then smiled and gestured politely toward Mo Hao.

“Sir, you may leave this cold iron token with me for now. There will be a ghost market auction soon. I will arrange for you to stay here. Should you need anything, simply ring the silver bell in your room. However, during this period, you must not leave the Phoenix Tower and may only move within the first three floors. Once the ghost market concludes, you may depart. I hope you understand—this place has its own rules.”

Mo Hao nodded and followed the woman to the third floor of the Phoenix Tower. Upon entering, he immediately felt the spiritual energy permeating the entire floor. He thought to himself that this was truly an excellent place for cultivation, and he wished he could stay and train here for a while after the ghost market ended.

But after walking further inside, he spotted a wooden plaque carved with the message: “Use of this place for half a month costs three spirit stones.” Mo Hao nearly cursed the woman out loud for being so mercenary—it was easier to rob than to pay such prices.

As the woman was about to leave, she turned back and said to Mo Hao, “Your expenses during the ghost market today will be covered by the Phoenix Tower. However, for any spirit stones earned from items sold at the ghost market, you must give ten percent to the Phoenix Tower.”

Hearing this, Mo Hao’s anger instantly vanished without a trace, replaced by helplessness and a bitter smile. His eyes widened as he cursed silently in his heart but said nothing aloud. Seeing his reaction, the woman assumed he had no objections, gracefully turning to descend the stairs, leaving Mo Hao standing there alone, his emotions tangled.

Mo Hao found a room, sat cross-legged on the mat, and began to cultivate. As he practiced the Clear Origin Technique, his mind drifted to the token Feng Xing had given him. It seemed this cold iron token was not something many cultivators possessed. Clearly, Mo Hao did not yet fully understand his senior brother Feng Xing.

Suddenly, Mo Hao sensed something amiss. The operation of the Clear Origin Technique slowed significantly. He did not pay much attention, thinking it might be due to his magic nearing saturation. After cultivating for another fifteen minutes, he felt his meridians swelling painfully, his whole body burning hot. It felt as if he were suffocating. Pain wracked his body as he curled up like a shrimp, sweat beading his forehead. He tried to suppress it with all his magic power, but to no avail—the pain only intensified. Gradually, he stripped off his clothes, and a white vapor escaped from his head.

Mo Hao’s heart sank as his magic power began to evaporate. He quickly took out all the elixirs he had for replenishing magic, stuffing them into his mouth. Slowly sitting up, he felt a chill in his dantian. The Cold Thorn Sword flew out and hovered above his head, seemingly absorbing the evaporating magic.

Mo Hao was momentarily startled by the sword’s appearance but was soon brought back by the intense pain. The elixirs he swallowed melted instantly, their power flooding his dantian like a torrential flood, then dispersing throughout his body. The impact was like the last straw on a camel’s back, and Mo Hao felt he was about to collapse. Yet he knew clearly that if he fainted now, he would surely die here.

Gritting his teeth, Mo Hao endured the pain and survived the onslaught. Yet he helplessly noticed that his magic power was still insufficient to suppress the abnormalities in his meridians; they seemed to expand and contract intermittently.

Determined, Mo Hao took out all the Ape Wine from his universe bag and gulped it down one mouthful after another. Finally, his magic power was enough to suppress the pain throughout his body, and he could spare his mind to think of a solution. He guessed that what was happening was related to his cultivation going off-track, likely caused by wild thoughts during the Clear Origin Technique.

Mo Hao made up his mind and began to channel his magic to forcefully impact his meridians, pushing the Clear Origin Technique to its utmost limit. To his delight, this proved effective. Before long, the accumulated magic was consumed, the small sword above his head returned to his dantian, and a wave of drowsiness overcame him. At this moment, even if placed in the hands of a mortal, he would have no strength to resist any attack. With a thud, he collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep.