71: Chapter 71 is the time for cultivation.

"So that's how it is."

Shen Moyan recalled the 'formation dao atlas' he had seen in his previous life.

"Then, the Wild Goose Formation True Monarch used the human face as the foundation to lay down the Formation."

Shen Moyan looked towards the 'mouth' position of that Kua Fu human face.

It was precisely Kongsang Prefecture.

In the past, the Kong Sang Sea had its seawater sucked dry, transforming into a land of mountains.

Seas changed into mulberry fields, and due to the abundant Spiritual Qi here, it became the second largest Cultivator gathering place in Langya Prefecture.

And the power of that Nine Songs Immortal Lord's Dharma Idol, which could suppress the Yao Race with a single word, did not come from nothing.

The power that suppressed the Yao Race naturally came from Kua Fu's mouth.

"It seems the ten Formation Nodes left by the Wild Goose Formation True Monarch in Langya Prefecture are all inextricably linked to Kongsang Prefecture."

Shen Moyan made a reasonable deduction.

The ten Formation Nodes serve two purposes.

First, as links to expand the influence of the human face's Dao Rhyme across the entire Langya Prefecture.

Second, to attract others' attention and disrupt the sight of other True Monarchs.

The true Formation Node is only one place: Kongsang Prefecture.

"My attainment in the Dao of Formations is still too immature," Shen Moyan lamented.

After seeing the Formation patterns atlas of the grand array, he became presumptuous, thinking he understood the entire grand array.

Little did he know he had fallen right into a trap designed by others.

The Dao of Formations is intricate and complex.

By sketching Formation patterns, one can connect all things.

Let alone the profoundly mysterious All Beings Spirit Refining Grand Array.

Shen Moyan's understanding of Formations still belonged to the just-beginning stage.

"Knowing the foundation of the opponent's Formation layout, yet being unable to alter it, is truly frustrating."

Shen Moyan thought to himself, his expression gloomy.

True Monarch, for the True, for the Monarch.

Can the actions and deeds of a Monarch be shaken by mere men?

Not to mention Shen Moyan is not even at the Purple Mansion stage yet, hardly worthy of being called an Immortal Master.

Soon, he let it go.

Don't know how? Then go and learn!

Learn for three years; if three years aren't enough, then thirty years; if thirty years aren't enough, then three hundred!

If one lifetime isn't enough, then three lifetimes, thirty lifetimes!

One day, he, Shen Moyan, would no longer be helpless in the face of such a complex grand array.

In short, it boils down to one sentence.

"The time for cultivation is now!"

Shen Moyan, far away in Feiguang Prefecture, regained his confidence.

Using the Heavenly Demon Eye, he recorded the underground earth veins suspected to be Formation patterns through Luo Changting's perspective.

He purchased a pile of Formation books from the Wanbao Net and began to immerse himself in studying... "Unbelievable, transforming the body into heaven and earth, this truly is the mighty power of gods and demons."

At Chaoyang Lake, Luo Changting flew back to his family.

He did not know where that human face came from.

But one thing was certain: the land beneath his feet was the 'head' that the Six Hells Demonic Sect was searching for.

Because he used a method involving consciousness, the Opera Troupe members had no impression of his sudden departure and return.

Only Luo Hanchán watched him secretly, her small eyes filled with worry.

"Father, where is our next stop?" Luo Changting asked.

"Dongshan City."

Sunset, outside Chaoyang Lake, the Opera Troupe's carriages formed a circle.

The campfire crackled, illuminating everyone's tired yet relaxed faces.

A day of travel, turbulent times about to arise; this rare moment of peace seemed particularly precious.

"Brother! Come catch me!"

Luo Hanchán's silver-bell-like laughter pierced the dusk as she darted between several carriages, her hair tips flying in the evening breeze.

She had just taken a juyuan pill, her complexion rosy, and the lingering sense of weakness that had plagued her for years had temporarily receded.

Luo Changting stood by the campfire, somewhat stiffly following his sister's figure.

His movements were far swifter than his sister's, but he deliberately slowed his pace, forcing a faint smile onto his face.

Inside him, the power of the demon seed circulated slowly like an icy current, bringing strength while also acting like invisible sandpaper, gradually eroding the warmth within his heart.

He could clearly feel that some subtle emotions,

like the warmth that should have surged upon seeing his sister's joy, were becoming dull, becoming blurred.

Since cultivating demonic arts, he was losing the sensations of being 'human.'

"Little Cicada, slow down, don't fall."

He spoke, his voice carrying a hint of dryness he himself hadn't noticed.

"No way! Why are you so slow today, Brother!"

Luo Hanchán made a sharp turn, nearly bumping into his arms, looking up at him, fine beads of sweat on the tip of her nose.

"Have you been studying all night and worn yourself out?"

Looking at her unclouded smile, Luo Changting reached out, wanting to ruffle her head like he did many years ago.

His fingertips paused slightly just before touching her hair, ultimately just gently brushing off a fallen leaf from her shoulder.

"Mm, a bit."

Luo Changting replied softly, deeply suppressing the fleeting thought.

He must cherish these moments; they were his proof of being 'human.'

At that moment, Luo Hanchán seemed to remember something. She carefully took an object from her bosom and presented it to Luo Changting as if offering a treasure.

"Brother, this is for you!"

It was a mask.

Its material was neither metal nor wood, cool to the touch yet warm, presenting a strange bluish-green color, like the purest patch of sky after rain.

The mask's design was ancient and simple, without intricate patterns, only outlining the contours of eyes, nose, and mouth, the lines smooth and filled with an inexplicable divine charm.

The strangest part was the eye holes. They seemed empty, yet one vaguely felt they were gazing at you, with a transcendent calm and depth.

"This is?" Luo Changting was slightly taken aback.

"Father gave it to me!" Luo Hanchán said cheerfully. "He said he got it from a very, very old Opera Troupe long ago. It's called... the green-black mask!"

"It's said that when performing the story of 'A Fan' from the 'records of the mountain and sea official appointments,' only the best actor could wear it!"

'records of the mountain and sea official appointments'... A Fan... Luo Changting's heart stirred.

He naturally knew this story: the Small Bird undergoes Mortal Transformation, dons the Transforming Feather Garment and ascends to the azure firmament, spreads its wings and shelters all beings.

The Opera Troupe often adapted this play, sometimes mixing in romance as 'calamity of longevity,' or calling it 'The Tale of the Azure Firmament Divine Lord.'

But the endings mostly involved the Divine Lord manifesting his divinity, the Official Appointments bestowing blessings upon all beings, lacking the aloof detachment from the Mortal World found in the original classic.

"Father said this mask has a great origin, and it can... hmm... calm the mind!"

Luo Hanchán tried hard to recall Luo Hui's words, her small face serious.

"You've been frowning a lot lately. Wearing it might make you happier!"

Luo Changting took the mask. The cool warmth transmitted by his fingertips actually caused his restless Devilish Qi to stall slightly, and his mind inexplicably calmed for a moment.

"Thank you, Little Cicada."

His voice softened a bit as he gently placed the mask over his face.

The size fit surprisingly well.

The moment the mask covered his face, the surrounding noise seemed to instantly recede.

The campfire's glow, his sister's figure, the clamor of the camp—all were filtered through a faint bluish-green layer, becoming somewhat blurred.

A strange sense of isolation arose, as if he stood in an independent, quiet space, observing the outside world.

The churning Devilish Qi within his body also seemed blocked by this layer of sky, becoming much more docile, and he could see other things with normal Divine Sense again.

At that moment, behind the mask, Luo Changting's pupils constricted sharply.

He stared fixedly at Luo Hanchán.

His sister's body seemed to be faintly wreathed in an extremely thin golden light, carrying an indescribable sense of antiquity and sacredness.

He abruptly removed the mask. Demonic thoughts assailed him, and the illusion vanished.

"What's wrong, Brother? Don't you like it?" Luo Hanchán asked worriedly.

"No... I like it very much."

Luo Changting gripped the mask tightly in his hand, seemingly understanding why that Immortal Master treated his sister that day.

Some guesses arose in his heart, and he couldn't help but bite his lip tightly.

"Thank you, Little Cicada. This gift... is very precious."

He looked up towards Luo Hui, who was smoking his pipe alone at the edge of the camp.

His father seemed to sense it and also looked over, his gaze complex, carrying worry and a hint of relief.

He gave Luo Changting a slight nod, said nothing, and lowered his head again.

Luo Changting remained silent.

"green-black mask..." He rubbed the cool mask, his heart in turmoil.

"A Fan undergoes Mortal Transformation and ascends to the azure firmament..."

"Mortal Transformation..."

"Soul Transformation..."

Only Soul Transformation could change all this.

He carefully stored the mask inside his robe, close to his skin.

"Brother, tomorrow we'll enter Dongshan City. Do you think they sell Sugar Figurines there?"

Luo Hanchán became lively again, tugging at his sleeve and asking incessantly.

"Mm, there should be."

He took his sister's hand and walked towards the campfire.

"Come, Brother will roast sweet potatoes for you."

The firelight danced, illuminating the figures of one large and one small.