Chapter 1172: Cause and Effect-Karmic Heart Technique
No one had expected it—the Grand Chieftain personally struck and killed that guard.
Shock still lingered on the faces of everyone from the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe.
They were confused, unable to fathom how things had developed in such a way.
But after some quiet thought, they began to understand.
This dispute had stemmed from the strange, mumbling youth in the arena claiming to be a "Shaman."
It was a battle over the legitimacy of a shamanic identity.
But the true matter at hand wasn't about whether this boy was a real Shaman.
What was truly being contested... was the Grand Chieftain's stance.
Everyone's gaze lingered briefly on the two brothers, Dan Bie and Dan Zhu, all falling silent.
A few perceptive individuals glanced at Mo Hua with a hint of sigh in their hearts:
"What a lucky kid…"
Even with the "prophecy" coming true, none of them truly believed Mo Hua was a real Shaman.
His so-called "prophecy" had been deliberately fulfilled by the Grand Chieftain.
In other words, the Grand Chieftain had granted him that miracle—out of mercy for his life.
To put it plainly, Mo Hua had simply benefited from being close to Dan Zhu.
The Grand Chieftain favored Dan Zhu and didn't want his two sons locked in strife again. So he personally acted, ending the dispute with a single guard's life—while also "verifying" Mo Hua's prophecy.
Anyone with eyes could tell: Mo Hua had stumbled into this "success" by pure luck.
It was the Grand Chieftain giving him face.
As for the so-called "divine revelation" from the god? That was just Mo Hua flattering himself.
Besides, how could a clean-shaven, soft-skinned pretty boy possibly be a Shaman?
How could someone like that be a servant of the gods?
Still, no matter what people believed, his identity had now been affirmed by the Grand Chieftain.
Even if no one here truly believed he was a Shaman—he had the Grand Chieftain's spoken word. And in the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe, that made it official. He now held the status and privileges of a true Shaman. None would dare challenge it openly.
The wager had come to an end.
And with that, the banquet was adjourned.
A few servants came up and dragged the dead guard's body away.
The guard's face was frozen in terror—seemingly unaware of how he'd died. Or perhaps… he did know. Perhaps he had always known this day would come.
He just hadn't expected it to come so soon.
On the ceremonial platform, the beautiful concubine's face was pale as paper. Her shoulders trembled despite her attempts to restrain herself. She didn't even dare to lift her eyes to look at the dead guard.
The others thought she was merely frightened by the sight of blood—thus her loss of color.
But she knew better than anyone what had truly happened.
The Grand Chieftain saw her frightened expression and said nothing.
But in his heart, he seemed very pleased.
Mo Hua, meanwhile, sat calmly, his eyes thoughtful as he observed the whole event.
——
After the banquet dispersed and he returned to his guest room, the night was already deep.
Mo Hua sat cross-legged on the soft beastskin bed, silently recalling everything he had witnessed—and felt a faint sense of awe.
The Grand Chieftain of the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe… though appearing brawny and imposing, with strong limbs, was in fact deeply shrewd.
Ruthless too. If someone needed killing, he did not hesitate.
However, the way he treated his concubine puzzled Mo Hua. It didn't match the image he had built in his mind.
He was the chieftain—if a concubine and a guard had an affair, shouldn't both be executed?
Why only kill one as a warning to the other?
Was this a difference in customs here in the Great Wilderness?
Also, Mo Hua couldn't fully understand what kind of recognition the Grand Chieftain had shown by acknowledging him as a "Shaman."
Did the man truly see some kind of power in him?
Or was he simply going along with the moment?
Had the Grand Chieftain already intended to kill the guard—and Mo Hua just happened to "predict" it?
Or… did his prophecy inspire the Grand Chieftain to kill?
This tangle of minds and consequences, this snake-eating-its-tail logic, gave Mo Hua a strange insight into the nature of karma.
Is karma an objective force? Or is it a reflection of the human heart?
If it's objective, then no matter what, the Grand Chieftain would have killed the guard.
But if it's driven by emotion, does that mean that if Mo Hua hadn't spoken the "prophecy" and stirred the Grand Chieftain's murderous intent, the guard might have lived?
Mo Hua frowned, deep in thought.
The Heavenly Secrets and Karma—perhaps they were more like omens or signs, a kind of revelation—but not answers. Certainly not some ironclad, mechanical law.
To study the Heavenly Secrets, one must never ignore the human heart.
In fact, karma itself is riddled with human variables.
It is precisely because the human heart is so unpredictable, that karma takes on so many forms.
And in this Vermilion Sparrow Tribe, many people were quite cunning.
The Grand Chieftain hadn't risen to power just because he was "lustful" or "brawny." That was far too simplistic.
Even Dan Zhu's third brother, Dan Bie, wasn't someone to take lightly.
At the banquet, Dan Bie had swiftly seized the opportunity to accuse Mo Hua of impersonating a Shaman—hoping to eliminate him.
Though his scheme wasn't especially brilliant, Mo Hua had just arrived—this was his first time meeting Dan Bie.
And within just a few bites of food, Dan Bie had already begun plotting against him.
Moreover, the excuse he used was airtight.
Calling Mo Hua a "fraud," a "fake Shaman" deceiving Dan Zhu…
He was shrewd, decisive, bold, and precise. His words were well-reasoned.
Though he didn't succeed in the end, Mo Hua had to admit: Dan Bie was indeed quite the talent.
And his attitude toward Dan Zhu was… complicated.
To say he didn't care at all would be a lie.
He was nearly a hundred years older than Dan Zhu, and had watched him grow up.
Dan Zhu was kind, handsome—surely Dan Bie had doted on him at some point.
But to say he felt no jealousy or resentment? That was also impossible.
No matter how much affection one has for a little brother, once that brother grows up, shows stunning talent, and becomes beloved by the tribe, resentment is inevitable.
Some emotions are simply beyond one's control.
Dan Bie harbored both love and envy—two forces that clashed within him.
And sometimes, even he didn't seem to know how to handle the contradiction.
But this wavering wouldn't last forever.
Sooner or later, Dan Bie would be forced—by circumstances—to make a decision.
In the face of power, the human heart is always fragile.
Mo Hua thought quietly to himself… and then suddenly froze. A thought struck him deeper than before:
The Vermilion Sparrow Tribe was a major power in the wilderness.
And the foundation of any great power… is authority.
But the vessel of that authority… is people.
And the essence of people… is the heart.
In the end, everything must be viewed through the lens of the human heart. It is the pivot.
The flow of Heavenly Secrets and karmic threads in the mortal realm—all of it hinges on the ever-changing human heart.
And the human heart… is one with the divine.
The heart reflects the soul, merging with the divine soul and the divine soul resides in…
Divine Sense?!
Like a bolt from the blue, Mo Hua's pupils contracted. In that instant, he understood.
It felt as though the countless Daoist insights he had encountered throughout his life—themes of fate, divine sense, and human nature—each previously obscure and self-contained, had now cracked open and connected.
All those threads were now faintly weaving together into a hazy but coherent Dao system… with Divine Sense at its core.
This concept was colossal.
But precisely because it was so grand, the more Mo Hua tried to ponder it, the more it felt like diving into an endless sea—he became overwhelmed, adrift.
He had merely grasped a thread—unable to tie it down.
Still, he had a strong hunch that this vision of the Dao… was correct.
The only problem was, his current cultivation level, his life experience, and his understanding of various Daoist disciplines… were all still far too shallow.
His personal foundation wasn't yet solid enough to embody this "Dao."
His life experience wasn't enough to anchor his insight.
"I still need to see more, learn more, cultivate more…"
"To engage with the objective world, understand mortal cause and effect, experience the human heart, deduce conflict, reshape karma across all beings... align knowledge and action—
…until I merge everything into a Dao Law of my own."
Much of this, Mo Hua had once only thought about in passing.
But thinking alone is empty.
It was only after entering the Great Wilderness, personally preaching the Dao, and experiencing all these events—witnessing the changes in fate, the manifestation of karma and human nature in reality—that Mo Hua truly began to clarify his path.
Even the concepts of "illusion and reality" had now struck him more deeply.
"Knowledge is illusion. Action is reality."
"To move from knowledge to action is to go from illusion to reality."
"To unite knowledge and action—is to merge illusion with reality."
"Knowing without doing means you can never shatter the wall between 'knowing' and 'doing,' nor break through the barrier of 'illusion' and 'reality'..."
Mo Hua took out a jade slip and carefully recorded his insight.
"Divine Sense. Heart. Human. Power. Karma. Heavenly Secrets…"
"Knowledge and Action. Illusion and Reality…"
Though he currently only had a rudimentary understanding of these concepts—
One day, he would bring them all together, forging a path entirely his own… one that pointed straight to the Great Dao.
——
In the days that followed, Mo Hua's life in the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe settled down.
With the Grand Chieftain's official recognition, he now held the status of an honored Shaman, and naturally received respectful treatment.
The tribespeople of the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe showed him outward reverence.
Of course, it was only on the surface.
They didn't dare defy the Grand Chieftain's authority—so they honored Mo Hua as if he were a Shaman.
But deep down, most still saw him as a slick-faced con artist who was just good at bluffing.
Even the elders and guards under Dan Zhu secretly believed Mo Hua was a shameless fraud—a fast-talking trickster.
Only Dan Zhu truly believed in him—genuinely convinced that Mo Hua was extraordinary.
In the days that followed, Mo Hua and Dan Zhu had many conversations.
But during those talks, Mo Hua never again raised those pointed, provocative questions.
He no longer spoke of how the Great Wilderness' tribal conquests were, at their core, mutual enslavement.
Nor did he mention how internal hierarchies were ultimately still rooted in oppression and exploitation.
Those fundamental contradictions—where one tribe eats another's flesh and drinks their blood—
would never lead to a truly prosperous or harmonious future.
Once was enough.
He had planted a seed in Dan Zhu's heart. Now it was up to Dan Zhu to ponder, accept, and digest it in time—
until it could take root and grow.
Saying more would only be a waste.
And so, in their interactions afterward, Mo Hua became far more gentle in his tone—
his words easier for Dan Zhu to absorb.
They discussed karmic fate, the big picture of the tribe, the livelihood of the people, improvements to formations, and moral cultivation.
All of it left Dan Zhu deeply enlightened.
Well—except for one area: cultivation realm.
After all, Mo Hua was only in Foundation Establishment, while Dan Zhu was a twenty-year-old Golden Core genius.
Talking about breakthroughs in front of someone who's already there? That's just asking to be embarrassed.
So, Mo Hua avoided all talk of cultivation.
If the topic of Golden Core came up, he'd simply go silent—wearing a deep, mysterious expression while staring at Dan Zhu.
Dan Zhu, under that gaze, would feel vaguely ashamed—thinking:
"Mister Wu is a pious and noble Shaman, concerned with the grand fate of all beings.
Discussing petty matters like breakthroughs and realms in front of him…
That's truly narrow-minded of me."
So Dan Zhu stopped bringing up "Golden Core" altogether.
And as long as that topic was off the table—then with Mo Hua's vast insight, broad experience, deep scheming, and sharp Divine Sense,
Even as a Foundation Establishment cultivator—he was more than qualified to act as Dan Zhu's mentor.
Dan Zhu, too, was highly perceptive. He understood most of what Mo Hua said—sometimes even drawing new conclusions on his own.
Their relationship gradually developed a bond of mutual respect—part teacher, part friend.
And over time, Mo Hua came to realize—his initial judgment of Dan Zhu had been somewhat biased.
Dan Zhu was a kind and gentle soul.
But strictly speaking… he wasn't exactly "naïve."
He was intelligent, sensitive—and in many things, more perceptive than anyone.
Including his awareness of his father's praise and disappointment.
Praise for his natural talent—disappointment at his indecisiveness.
His elder brother's affection and distance.
Born from brotherhood, there was care. Born from rivalry for the chieftainship, there was estrangement.
The tribe's admiration and jealousy toward him.
They praised his talent and kindness—but secretly envied how, as the young master, he was born into a life others couldn't obtain even after struggling a lifetime.
All of this… Dan Zhu understood.
But because he was kind, he chose not to think about it—or rather, didn't dare to.
Deep down, he genuinely wished the world was filled with good people. That everyone could just get along in harmony.
He didn't want to guess at others' malice. Didn't want to label anyone as "bad."
In fact, Mo Hua realized—even regarding himself, Dan Zhu still had some lingering doubts.
The prophetic dreams, the coincidental encounter, the so-called divine revelation… It was all too convenient.
Dan Zhu must have, instinctively, sensed something was off.
But maybe from the first moment they met, Dan Zhu had decided: "This is a good person. I can be friends with him."
And based on that trust in a friend, he subconsciously avoided thinking that this "Mister Wu" was deliberately manipulating everything from the shadows.
No one else could see through this.
But Mo Hua, with his powerful Divine Sense, his sharp, subtle intuition—and especially now that he had begun to comprehend the interplay of karma and the human heart.
He could gradually, deeply feel the truth of Dan Zhu's nature, and see more clearly into his heart.
Mo Hua felt a twinge of sadness.
"Dan Zhu really is… a good kid."
But in a place like the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe…
His ending would, in all likelihood, not be a good one.
This time, Mo Hua didn't rely on fate-divination or demonic bone augury.
He simply used his understanding of the human heart to deduce the karmic trajectory.
Because in the end, the human heart shapes destiny.
Mo Hua didn't know the Grand Chieftain in depth—but he could reasonably assume that, as a leader, everything the chieftain did was for the sake of the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe.
And when the chieftain grows old—his sons will inevitably compete for his position.
Even if he's reluctant to see them fight, he won't be able to stop it.
All those noble words about unity and harmony? Empty talk. Just noise.
There can only be one chieftain. That's the cold, hard reality.
And the chieftain can't just give each son their own land and followers and say, "Let's split the tribe."
That would be no different from splitting the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe in three, no different from tearing it apart.
Especially now—when the war between the Dao Court and the Great Wilderness was still raging.
Who knew when the flames of war would reach them?
To divide the tribe at a time like this… would be no different from inviting death.
That's why the Grand Chieftain had to choose—from among his sons, the one with the strongest cultivation, the right temperament, and the sharpest means to lead the tribe.
Otherwise, in this chaotic era of war, the tribe's very survival would be in jeopardy.
In the Wilds, there's no such thing as "legitimate eldest son" inheritance.
Everything follows the law of the jungle: Whoever is strongest, whoever wins hearts, rules.
But "strength" is not so simple.
It's not enough to just be strong in cultivation—you also need the ability to lead.
Among the chieftain's three sons:
The eldest is valiant,
The third is clever,
The fourth (Dan Zhu) is extraordinarily gifted.
Each of them is a dragon among men, but none are without flaws.
The eldest is brave in battle, with many military achievements—but he's hot-tempered and disdains the finer details of leadership.
The third is shrewd and politically savvy—able to balance all factions, but his mind is too deep, and he often lacks a bigger-picture vision.
The fourth, Dan Zhu, is blessed by the heavens, with unmatched talent and widespread admiration but he is far too kind.
Anyone could be chosen. And at the same time—none of them absolutely have to be.
To the Grand Chieftain, all of them are "his own flesh and blood"—choosing is a torment.
Yet if he picks wrong—conflict is inevitable.
But if he delays too long—even worse disasters will arise.
If he doesn't choose, the three sons will fight amongst themselves until only one remains. At that point, not choosing is no longer an option.
Cruel?
Yes.
But it's reality.
The human heart is no match for the all-consuming pull of power.
And this was what Mo Hua deduced, just from observing the situation.
He had never met the eldest, Dan He, who was off leading troops at the frontlines so he didn't know his mindset.
But he had met the third son, Dan Bie, and could already grasp part of his inner world.
Dan Bie's heart was torn between brotherly love and the struggle for power.
He couldn't make up his mind, but the situation would push him forward, step by step—until he eventually made the coldest, hardest choice.
Even if he didn't want to choose, the elders, the noble clans, his advisors and guards— they would force him to.
His karma was already taking shape.
His heart, too, would drive him toward his destiny.
But the one who would suffer the most… was Dan Zhu.
He was both intelligent and kind-hearted.
And before him, lay two nearly inevitable paths:
Remain kind, and lose the power struggle. In the end, either submit, or die. And with his astonishing cultivation talent, even if he chose submission, he would still almost certainly end up dead. Because his two brothers—no matter how much emotion or reason they possessed—could never allow a genius like him to live.
Or… take the other path: Sever his kindness, turn his back on his heart, and meet his brothers blade to blade. With his intelligence and ability, if he truly let go of all restraint, he could likely kill both of them. But if that happened—he would no longer be Dan Zhu. The goodness in his heart would be completely extinguished. Covered in blood, he would become cold and ruthless, a tyrant who murdered his brothers to claim power.
In a way, both of these roads were tragedies for the Dan Zhu of today.
And right now… all of this was still only in its budding stage.
Most of the cultivators in the tribe, unaware of karma or destiny, couldn't sense it.
This lurking power struggle between brothers, still wore a mask of familial warmth, its signs subtle and hidden.
But over time, all of these tensions… would rise to the surface.
Each cause would lead to its effect.
And everyone… would walk toward their fated end.
This cycle of tribal conflict and fratricidal power struggles— was nothing new.
Just history repeating itself.
In Mo Hua's eyes, faint flames flickered.
And already, within the omens of karma, he could see the future—The Vermilion Sparrow Tribe engulfed in karmic fire, brothers turning on each other, and their blood staining the tribal totems red…
(End of this Chapter)