Chapter 514: Chapter 514: Seeking Guidance

There was one upside to resigning as the warden of Mi Mountain Prison.

Bai Mo was now free.

On a day of his choosing, Bai Mo led Ah Er back to Mi Mountain.

The purple-black mountain was the same as ever, only now the vegetation planted on it was growing even more wantonly, showing signs of becoming overgrown.

This was not a good sign.

Ah Er narrowed his eyes, shouldered his hoe, and started up the mountain.

Searching along the way, he soon found several medicinal herbs, squeezed into a corner and barely hanging on.

These were the good ones on the mountain. It was the fourth time they had suffered such bullying. With no one to tend to them, they were in a truly pitiful state.

Ah Er hefted his hoe and threw his back into the work.

Bai Mo, meanwhile, was led into the mountain by two of the Brother Shis.

"The Black Prison was well taken care of while we were away,"

one of the stone men rumbled, leading Bai Mo along.

The two of them entered the prison, traversing the familiar path with ease.

The familiar scent of the Black Prison wafted over as they walked.

When they reached the mad Cultivator’s cell, Bai Mo paused briefly and tossed a Pill inside.

SNAP!

The mad Cultivator’s hand shot out to snatch the Pill, and he greeted Bai Mo cheerfully.

"Warden Bai! It’s been a while. Are you doing well?"

Bai Mo replied with a smile.

"Not too bad. Without all the rules, I can move around freely. I’ll still come back often when I have time."

"This is a fine Pill. A little gift for a fellow friend..."

The mad Cultivator glanced at the envious stares from the prisoners in the adjacent cells and suddenly grew cautious.

"They don’t get one?"

Bai Mo shook his head.

"When I was here, these two were defiant. They gave me plenty of trouble..."

The mad Cultivator nodded repeatedly.

"That makes sense!"

"Stop looking! You don’t get any! This one’s mine!"

He tossed the Pill into his mouth, chewed a few times, and swallowed it.

The Pill’s medicinal power surged, rampaging through his body. He suddenly let out a hearty belch.

"A bit too full..."

The mad Cultivator scrambled over to the straw-covered corner, sat cross-legged, and began to operate an obscure art—one Bai Mo had never seen.

He didn’t explode and die as the other prisoners imagined.

Instead, white steam began to rise from the mad Cultivator’s body as Spiritual Qi billowed around him.

The prisoners’ eyes went red with feverish envy. They wished they could pounce on him, devour his flesh, and claim that surge of Spiritual Qi for themselves.

The stone man and Bai Mo continued on their way, the former looking somewhat surprised.

"That Pill of yours is a valuable item, little brother. It’s a waste to give it to these people."

Bai Mo said, "This man is different. I genuinely want to restore his senses so I can ask him a few things..."

"Please watch over him, Brother Shi. Don’t let anything happen to him."

"Alright."

The two of them finally stopped in front of another cell.

Bai Mo squatted down, facing a Cultivator who was slumped inside with his head bowed. He knocked on the wooden bars to rouse him.

The man’s face was sallow, and he looked as though he was on his last breath.

Bai Mo spoke directly. "I have a few questions for you."

The prisoner forced a weak smile and turned his head away, ignoring him.

Bai Mo continued, "You’re dying. You know that, right?"

"In your condition, you likely won’t survive the winter. And before that, the sect probably won’t let your cultivation go to waste. They’ll want to make use of everything you have."

This man was one of the last batch of prisoners Bai Mo had taken in before leaving Mi Mountain.

As such, he knew a little about the man’s situation.

For a man so bereft of hope, a few words weren’t enough to make him speak.

Seeing that the man remained unmoved, the stone man asked:

"Want to use some other methods?"

They guarded the Black Prison. They didn’t usually resort to trickery; most of the time, they used heavy-handed methods, such as force.

Bai Mo shook his head and continued:

"I hear you have a son on the outside? And he’s the last successor of your line?"

Hearing this, the prisoner in the cell stiffened. He slowly turned his head, his expression dark, but with a hint of a sneer.

"Is this how you cultivators of the righteous path conduct yourselves?"

Bai Mo waved his hand dismissively.

"With a man like you, what’s the point of talking about righteousness? It’s a pointless, wasted effort."

"However, it’s not what you think. I’ve come to make a trade with you."

"That son of yours has likely been reduced to a Loose Cultivator by now. Everyone knows their situation is tough. You yourself have the lives of many Loose Cultivators on your hands."

"I hear he’s not like you—that he’s an honest man. He’s probably not having a very good time of it."

Bai Mo said this much without looking at the man’s face, and then continued slowly:

"I can deliver a letter from you and place it in his hands."

"Whatever Cultivation Technique, whatever last words you have, you can explain it all clearly."

Silence hung in the cell for a long moment before the man inside finally spoke.

"What do you want?"

Bai Mo replied, "Your accumulated insights and experience from years of capturing Cultivators, refining their blood essence, creating Demon Dao Pills and blood pellets, and forging nefarious artifacts."

The prisoner was stunned. After a moment, he said:

"This is a sect inheritance, combined with insights I’ve accumulated over many years of my own work. How could I possibly explain it all in a short time?"

"That’s fine." Bai Mo sat down cross-legged.

"You start talking. I’ll listen."

The prisoner in the cell began to recount and explain his lineage’s inheritance, interspersing it with his own insights.

Prisoners in the surrounding cells also cast their attention over, some letting out the occasional sneer.

The Black Prison was full of experts in this field, each more proficient than the next.

But those old foxes were hard to handle. Bai Mo decided not to waste his time on them, opting to approach this prisoner directly.

"Warden Bai, why are you asking a rookie like him?"

"This prison is full of masters! If you want to learn, we can teach you too, hehehe..."

Bai Mo casually replied without thinking.

"Oh, I thought you all wouldn’t teach."

"You never asked! Who doesn’t enjoy leading people astray? We love that sort of thing..."

Bai Mo paid them no real mind.

The stone man stood to the side, examining the ceiling of the Black Prison as if he could discern flowers from the patterns in the rock, the very picture of patience.

Bai Mo lingered on Mi Mountain for three days, taking up residence in a thatched hut on the mountain.

Though long abandoned, it was perfectly serviceable after a little tidying up.

Three days later, Bai Mo had firmly committed to memory the insights of a Cultivator with long years of practical experience.

He also obtained a Cultivation Technique that had its beginning and end chopped off, and its middle section gutted.

It was a Demon Dao art to begin with, so getting it out of the Black Prison was not easy. Many parts had to be modified.

Besides imparting his experiences to Bai Mo, the prisoner had poured all of his energy into that Cultivation Technique.

Multiple sections were deleted and replaced with clumsy alterations, dropping the Cultivation Technique’s quality by more than one level.

Even so, this had cost the prisoner a great deal of blood and sweat. His face was waxy, a clear sign of his physical and mental exhaustion.

Bai Mo took the Cultivation Technique, and after checking it over, gave it to a sect messenger, ordering it delivered to a remote town.

As he was leaving the Black Prison, the mad Cultivator finished absorbing the Pill’s medicinal power and stood up to bid Bai Mo farewell.

"Come back often, Warden Bai!"

"Of course, of course."

Bai Mo left with a smile.

「A few days later.」

Bai Mo returned with Ah Er to the small courtyard on the cliff’s edge.

"Once this busy period is over, I’ll go with you for a visit to Immortal Arrival City."

"The timing should be perfect to catch the city’s best season."

As he spoke to Ah Er, Bai Mo began to arrange the birthdates and Cultivation Technique types of the prisoners on a piece of paper.

The properties of each person’s blood essence were different, and some would clash. He had to think through the problem and come up with a suitable plan.

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