Chapter 1169: Divine Stick (Conman-Shaman)
TN: 神棍 is a slang term that literally means "divine stick", but it's commonly used to mockingly refer to a charlatan who pretends to have supernatural powers, especially fake shamans, fortune tellers, or cultists. So, the contextual meaning is: "fraudulent shaman", or more humorously, "cult conman."
Those voices, like "devil's whispers piercing the ear," yet also like spring rain soaking into the heart, had seeped into Young Lord Dan-Zhu's mind.
Naturally, they subconsciously stirred up his sense of rejection and wariness.
He suddenly opened his eyes, scanning his surroundings. His pupils glimmered with a jade-like green light.
It was deep into the night—nothing could be seen around him.
Dan-Zhu slowly sat up, his brows furrowed, the vague voice from his dream still faintly echoing in his mind:
"Tomorrow, at the hour of the Dog, at Danyang Mountain, northwest fork… the Divine Lord's guidance…"
"Dispel your confusion… and become the hope of the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe…"
Dan-Zhu pondered for a moment, then rang the bell beside his table.
A crisp chime rang out.
Outside the hut, the two Golden Core elders standing guard were startled. They dropped the half-roasted meat and quickly rushed inside, seeing Dan-Zhu sitting upright in his robes. One of them asked urgently:
"Young Lord, what's wrong?"
Dan-Zhu's green eyes looked at his two personal guards. He was just about to tell them the strange and mystical words from his dream—
—but the words caught in his throat. After a moment of silence, Dan-Zhu asked instead, "Did either of you notice anything strange outside?"
The two guards exchanged glances and shook their heads.
The burly elder spoke with confidence: "Young Lord, rest assured. With us guarding the door, not even a mosquito could sneak in."
Dan-Zhu nodded slightly.
He had known these two elders since childhood and trusted them deeply.
"Did something happen, Young Lord?" the other guard asked, worry on his face.
Dan-Zhu hesitated briefly, but ultimately shook his head. "Nothing. Perhaps I've been overthinking… had some strange dreams tonight. Feeling a little unsettled."
The burly guard frowned slightly.
The other elder looked deeply concerned. "Young Lord, you hold a noble position. You must take care of your health—it's best not to let your thoughts run too wild."
Since ancient times, deep emotion brings short life, and overthinking leads to harm.
The Young Lord was not only extraordinarily talented and innately compassionate, but also burdened with too much thought. The elder truly feared something might happen to him.
Dan-Zhu said, "I understand. You two may go rest now."
Seeing this, the two elders could only sigh lightly and respectfully withdraw.
After they left, Dan-Zhu still felt conflicted.
"Was the voice in the dream trying to deceive me?"
"Or… was it truly a divine revelation from the Divine-Lord?"
He sat in silence for a long while, unable to make sense of it.
Thanks to Mo Hua's little scheme, his confusion had only deepened, and his thoughts grew heavier. He could not calm his mind to sleep. With no better option, he picked up the scroll beside him and resumed reading, then glanced at the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe's map, brow tightly furrowed.
Just like that, he sat reading until dawn. As the morning sun rose, his spiritual sense began to feel fatigued.
Though a cultivator's physical body was brimming with vitality and could go days without sleep without harm—
—mental exhaustion was another matter entirely.
To be one with Heaven and Earth: rise with the sun, rest with the moon.
Cultivating by day and resting at night was the primary way for most cultivators—especially those not on the path of divine sense or unable to cultivate spiritual consciousness—to recover their minds and reinforce their sea of consciousness.
Good sleep meant stable mind and spirit.
Poor sleep didn't damage the body, but it depleted the divine sense, dulled the will, and left the spirit weak.
Dan-Zhu was diligent, hardworking, gifted, and deeply thoughtful, often burdened by worry—so insomnia was nothing new.
Especially after Mo Hua whispered sweet nothings to him in his sleep—how could he rest easy?
Facing the rising sun, Dan-Zhu meditated for a while, continuing his routine cultivation.
Vast spiritual energy coursed through his meridians, ultimately converging in his dantian, into his Golden Core, which shimmered with crystalline light of the Golden Core Realm.
After finishing his cultivation, Dan-Zhu stood up and stepped outside the hut.
His two guardian elders were already waiting at the door.
One was a burly figure wrapped in wolf pelt, towering and imposing. The other was plain-looking, modest and composed.
Dan-Zhu asked, "Which way are we returning to the main tribe today?"
The burly one replied, "From Mount Gale, head north, follow the Kashgar Trail back to the main stronghold and report to the Chief."
"If we hurry, we might make it back before the grand banquet begins."
Dan-Zhu asked instinctively, "Not taking the Danyang Mountain route?"
The plain-looking elder seemed puzzled.
"Young Lord, we never take Danyang Mountain…"
He explained further:
"That path looks a bit closer on the map, but in reality, the mountain road twists too much and is crawling with more beasts. It takes longer in the end."
Far off, Mo Hua—who was eavesdropping—felt a jolt in his heart.
Miscalculation…
The Vermillion Sparrow Tribe was vast, with many mountain routes—Mo Hua wasn't familiar with them.
He had simply looked at the map, saw Danyang Mountain was nearest, and assumed they'd take that route.
But reality… didn't match his assumptions at all.
His "Divine Lord's guidance" had picked the wrong road entirely.
"If I'd known, I'd have calculated first… This is bad…"
Mo Hua frowned deeply.
They weren't even heading in the same direction. That meant Dan-Zhu might not follow the route he had "prophesied."
Which also meant Dan-Zhu might not trust the guidance of this so-called "Divine Lord."
This tiny little misjudgment could greatly damage the Divine-Lord's credibility.
"I'll just have to think of a way to fix this later…"
But dream-whispers couldn't be used too often—any more, and flaws would start to show.
And once Dan-Zhu returned to the main tribe, if Mo Hua couldn't sneak in—there'd be no more opportunity to whisper anything at all.
Mo Hua sighed in his heart.
Dan-Zhu didn't say much more—just gave a small nod.
The rest of the morning, Dan-Zhu remained busy managing tribal affairs.
Around noon, he set off with the two elder guards and a group of Foundation Establishment-level Vermillion Sparrow Tribe warriors, leaving the small outpost under his jurisdiction, heading in the direction of Mount Gale.
Harboring a slim hope, Mo Hua followed from a distance.
But in the end, it was confirmed—Dan-Zhu and his group weren't taking "Danyang Mountain," the route Mo Hua had prophesied, but the other path via Mount Gale.
Mo Hua sighed.
His first divine "guidance" as a self-declared 'Divine-Lord'… trying to guide someone on their path… and he pointed them in the wrong direction.
Mo Hua was truly at a loss for words. Eventually, he thought to himself, Fine, so I messed up. A wrong turn is a wrong turn. No one is born a "Conman Shaman," after all. Everyone has to take a few detours and stumble through some failures.
If you want to bluff someone, you also have to accept the chance that they won't fall for it.
Mo Hua slowly adjusted his mindset.
Even though he'd failed, he wasn't discouraged. He simply decided to keep tailing Young Lord Dan-Zhu.
As the saying goes: don't fear the thief who steals, fear the thief who won't stop thinking about stealing.
As long as he kept scheming and planning, one day, Young Lord Dan-Zhu would surely be in the bag.
Up ahead on the winding path of Mount Gale, Dan-Zhu and his group were moving in grand formation.
Mo Hua stayed hidden, hands behind his back, with a relaxed air, tailing them from afar.
After some distance, Dan-Zhu suddenly began glancing back toward the right-side mountain road, his expression visibly conflicted.
Apparently, in his heart, he still couldn't quite let go of that "Divine Lord's Revelation."
Mo Hua's heart gave a slight thump.
After another ten miles, Dan-Zhu suddenly came to a stop.
One of the guards asked, "Young Lord?"
Dan-Zhu fell silent for a moment, then seemed to make a firm decision. "We're changing routes. We're taking Danyang Mountain."
The guards all looked at each other, baffled. "Young Lord, this…"
Dan-Zhu offered no explanation—he simply repeated, "We're going through Danyang Mountain."
With that, he ignored the others and turned to walk toward the right-hand path—toward Danyang Mountain.
"Young Lord!"
"Young Lord, wait—!"
A few tried to stop him, but Dan-Zhu was their lord. They couldn't defy him. In the end, they could only sigh in resignation and follow him up the new path.
Watching from a distance, Mo Hua was momentarily stunned.
"This young lord… just walked right into my trap of his own accord…"
Mo Hua couldn't tell whether this youth was just pure-hearted… or whether his role as a "Divine Lord" had been too convincing.
Either way—it was a good thing.
Mo Hua's eyes lit up.
…
Meanwhile, Dan-Zhu led his people through steep ridges and rugged valleys, detouring from Mount Gale to Danyang Mountain.
Eventually, they reached the southwestern edge, at a mountain crossroads.
Dan-Zhu halted, examining the surroundings, and confirmed this spot matched the place in his dream—the one the voice had "revealed" to him.
The burly guard whispered, "Young Lord, this is…?"
Dan-Zhu replied, "I'm feeling a little tired. We'll rest here."
"Rest…?"
The Young Lord was a Golden Core cultivator, overflowing with qi and vitality. After walking just a little mountain road, what was there to rest from?
The group exchanged looks, puzzled.
But Dan-Zhu had already sat cross-legged, beginning meditation on the spot.
The others had no choice but to form a guard circle around him and remain on alert.
Time passed slowly. Starting around the hour of the Rooster, Dan-Zhu sat there motionless.
Until the blazing sun of the Great Wilderness began to dip westward, painting the sky in crimson. The clouds burned like fire, casting radiant splendor across the horizon.
Only then did Dan-Zhu slowly open his eyes and gaze toward the southwestern crossroads.
But there—there was no one.
"Was I wrong?"
Dan-Zhu frowned. He waited a bit longer… still, nothing happened.
It was now the hour of the Dog. He had reached Danyang Mountain, as instructed in the dream—but the so-called "Revelation" had failed to manifest.
For some reason, Dan-Zhu felt a quiet sense of relief.
"As expected… how could there truly be some Divine Lord in this world? Why would such a being offer guidance so easily?"
"It was just a dream after all. I really was overthinking it…"
Yet, curiously, a subtle disappointment arose in Dan-Zhu's heart.
He was truly confused—he needed someone to dispel the fog for him.
His path was indeed chaotic—he needed someone to light the way.
The Vermillion Sparrow Tribe seemed powerful, but most of its common cultivators endured bitter hardship. Dan-Zhu genuinely wanted to become a beacon of hope for them.
He had feared that the divine "Revelation" might really come true—
—because he wouldn't know if it was real, or if he should believe it.
But if it turned out there was no revelation at all…
—then he would still be left with that same void, that same helpless grief.
The sun was nearly gone now, the sky dimming into twilight.
The burly elder spoke, "Young Lord, it's getting late. We should be on our way."
Dan-Zhu sighed and nodded. "Let's go."
He stood and prepared to leave—but still felt a twinge of reluctance.
He turned back for one last glance.
In that instant—his pupils contracted sharply.
He saw, at the distant crossroads… a figure had quietly appeared.
A faint silhouette stood there, holding a wooden staff, walking from the east, cloaked in the golden rays of the setting sun.
Behind him, the sun burned like fire, clouds glowing magnificently—an awe-inspiring scene.
Strangely, no one knew when the figure had appeared, or where he'd come from.
It was as if he had materialized from thin air—fading from illusion into reality.
His form blended with the crimson sunset, making him appear like a divine being who had stepped out of the flames of the dying sun itself.
Dan Zhu stood frozen, dazed.
The other cultivators of the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe couldn't help but feel their hearts tremble.
"Who is that…"
They didn't know who this eerie figure was, silently blended with the setting sun, nor what his purpose might be.
The Golden Core elders looked grim, beginning to activate their magical treasures.
Several guards also scattered quickly, forming a protective circle around Dan Zhu.
The atmosphere instantly turned tense, like a drawn bowstring ready to snap.
Yet Dan Zhu remained rooted to the spot, dazed.
And the elders and guards of the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe didn't dare act rashly either. They could only watch as that figure walked slowly toward them, step by step.
The tension was like the dying embers of the sunset—smoldering, pressing.
Amid this atmosphere, the figure within the crimson sun gradually approached, revealing a pale, almost ethereal face—so young it was almost offensive.
It was a youth.
A youth who, apart from brows like a spring breeze and a face like the bright moon, seemed utterly ordinary.
Of course, he wasn't very tall either. He looked clean, gentle, harmless—as if incapable of hurting even a fly. There wasn't the slightest trace of threat about him.
The Vermillion Sparrow Tribe's elders and guards couldn't help but breathe sighs of relief, though a flicker of shame and anger rose in their hearts.
Just a youth? A frail boy with weak blood Qi and no more than Foundation Establishment cultivation? Yet he had made all of them—Golden Core elders and elite guards—so tense, as if facing a great enemy?
How embarrassing.
Dan Zhu looked at Mo Hua, and his expression clearly revealed disappointment.
Still, he asked, "You… who are you?"
Mo Hua's expression was calm, his tone indifferent:
"You may call me… Mister Wu."
At these words, the elders and guards who had just relaxed all stiffened again, expressions darkening with unease.
In the wilds, the title "Mister Wu" was no simple matter.
For this youth to dare call himself that—he was no ordinary person.
Dan Zhu frowned. "You are a Shaman of the Great Wilderness Royal Court?"
Mo Hua shook his head and corrected him:
"A Shaman serves the Divine Lord—not the Royal Court."
The guarding elders frowned even deeper, eyes filled with disbelief.
Dan Zhu's heart, however, skipped a beat.
A Shaman of the Divine Lord…
This youth was connected to the Divine Lord—that meant he was tied to the prophecy from his dream?
Dan Zhu asked, "Do you know who I am?"
Mo Hua's eyes, dark as obsidian, met Dan Zhu's emerald-green gaze and quietly held it for a moment. Then, without the slightest shame or hesitation, he asked:
"Who are you?"
"…I'm Dan Zhu," he replied.
Mo Hua gave a small nod, his face expressionless, utterly indifferent.
Dan Zhu's heart felt an inexplicable sense of loss.
"This youth… he doesn't even know who I am…"
"Could it be… the Divine Lord's prophecy was wrong? Or… am I not the one chosen by the Divine Lord after all?"
Dan Zhu frowned tightly.
Mo Hua's gaze flickered slightly, then he spoke warmly:
"A fleeting encounter, yet a destined one. Perhaps this too is the will of the Divine Lord. I still have a journey ahead and cannot stay long. I hope we meet again—if fate allows."
With that, Mo Hua gave Dan Zhu a slight nod, then leaned on the wooden staff he had just broken off from a nearby tree, and walked past him, eyes filled with resolve.
His gaze was firm—but his pace wasn't fast. In fact, it was deliberately slow.
At the same time, the wooden staff in his hand tapped against the ground, making a soft tick-tock, tick-tock sound.
Each tap seemed to echo in Dan Zhu's heart, like a subtle reminder.
Dan Zhu began to feel a strange tension growing within.
Just as Mo Hua was about to walk away—
"Wait," Dan Zhu suddenly called out.
Mo Hua let out a quiet breath of relief, then turned around with a calm expression, gaze steady like an unshakable stone in the mountains.
Dan Zhu, under his gaze, felt a sudden unease… and a trace of unwillingness.
He hadn't expected that the one who might be the Divine Lord's chosen guide would simply turn and leave.
And more than that—he had barely said anything to him at all.
But Dan Zhu also feared… if this youth truly came from some unfathomable origin, then once he left, who knew if they'd ever meet again?
What Dan Zhu didn't know… was that he was overthinking it.
You don't fear a thief stealing from you—you fear a thief thinking about you.
And Dan Zhu… Had already been marked by Mo Hua, this particular "thief."
If they didn't meet at this crossroads, they'd surely meet again at the next.
If not today, then perhaps in just a few days, in one of the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe's settlements, he might once more "unexpectedly" receive a divine revelation—and just so happen to see Mo Hua again.
None of this crossed Dan Zhu's mind.
Though his cultivation was a whole major realm higher than Mo Hua's, when it came to scheming, he was completely outmatched.
Not to mention—Mo Hua had cultivated in karmic arts, had a powerful spiritual sense, and far more tricks up his sleeve.
"Young Master Dan Zhu, is there something you need?" Mo Hua feigned ignorance and asked gently.
Dan Zhu hesitated, conflicted, and then finally asked,
"Master Wu, judging from your appearance… you don't seem like someone from the Great Wilderness?"
Mo Hua replied devoutly,
"This humble one belongs to no land, no tribe, no faction. My body, my blood, my soul—all have been offered to the Divine Lord."
Dan Zhu asked, "The Divine Lord you speak of…"
Mo Hua answered calmly,
"The Divine Lord is the Divine Lord—unspeakable, unknowable. Fools are unaware of His existence; only those with deep fortune and a destined fate may receive His revelations…"
Dan Zhu's heart skipped a beat—but his expression remained calm.
He asked again, "Master Wu… may I ask, how long have you cultivated?"
Dan Zhu felt that Mo Hua looked even younger than him.
Mo Hua's expression shifted subtly. He gave a faint smile, and in that instant, his eyes held a depth that seemed to contain all the joy, sorrow, anger, and grief of the human world—the kind of weariness that comes from seeing all things change with time.
That desolate, complex gaze instantly inspired Dan Zhu's respect.
This "Master Wu"… surely had many stories to tell.
Stories that had been buried deep by time, hidden in the depths of his eyes—not something for outsiders to pry into.
True to that image, Mo Hua said no more. With a face still youthful but bearing a look of worldly weariness, he turned to leave.
But Dan Zhu quickly called out, "Master Wu!"
Mo Hua turned to look at him.
Dan Zhu seemed to steel himself, then slowly said,
"To speak frankly… I am Dan Zhu, heir of the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe. May I invite Master Wu to visit our tribe, so I may fulfill the duties of a host?"
Mo Hua pretended to hesitate.
Dan Zhu pressed on, "Our Vermillion Sparrow Tribe is one of the oldest and most powerful in the Great Wilderness—rich in heritage, and strong in strength."
Mo Hua remained calm, seemingly uninterested.
Dan Zhu added, "Please, Master Wu—do come to our tribe… To be honest, I have some doubts I wish to consult you about."
Mo Hua asked, "You have doubts?"
Dan Zhu replied, "Yes."
Mo Hua looked at Dan Zhu with clear, unblinking eyes.
Dan Zhu met his gaze sincerely.
Mo Hua gave a faint smile, as if appreciating Dan Zhu's sincerity, and finally nodded.
"Very well—then I shall respectfully accept your invitation."
Dan Zhu breathed a quiet sigh of relief, and the anxiety on his face gave way to a trace of a smile.
Three days later, the mysterious "Master Wu," Mo Hua, was personally invited by Dan Zhu, and entered the very heart of the Vermillion Sparrow Tribe—their central and most guarded settlement…
(End of this Chapter)