Volume One: The Awakening of All Things, Where Every Season Is Spring Chapter Thirty-Seven: Framing and Slander, A Carefully Crafted Conspiracy

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Magic City, Ziyuan.

Mo Wen sat cross-legged on the carpet, naked, having just finished bathing. On a sudden whim, he began to carefully examine the Buddhist inner breath within his body. Ever since the old monk empowered the Black Prison Realm, Mo Wen’s inner breath had become even purer. He could feel that the once molten, lava-like rivers of energy within him had transformed into a golden, viscous flow, suffusing his skin, each current containing immense power.

Though uncertainty lingered in his heart about the fate of his cheap master in the Black Prison Realm, the benefits he’d received were tangible and real, filling Mo Wen with gratitude.

The sword hound lay lazily on the balcony, glancing up at Mo Wen with a look of disdain. “Showing off such a tiny thing? If I were you, I’d just end it right here and now!”

Mo Wen glanced down, feeling a bit odd, having forgotten that besides himself, there was also this troublesome sword hound in the house.

He dressed, pulled out his phone, intending to call Lin Xi, but noticed an unread message.

“If you want to save Zhao Meixin, come to the Bund dock at midnight. Don’t be late! Remember, come alone!”

Mo Wen’s heart skipped a beat, his breath quickening. It took a while for him to calm himself and think carefully.

The sender was sure he would go, leading him right into the tiger’s den—but he had no choice.

For the kindness Zhao’s mother had shown in raising him, Mo Wen would gladly give his life in return. But since the other party had set a trap, they would surely be prepared.

It was only four in the afternoon; there was still time. Mo Wen made his way to the academy’s small building once again.

“What are you doing here again, you little rascal?” Zhao Tiansheng laughed and cursed, but seeing Mo Wen’s unusual expression, his words held no true reproach. Mo Wen explained his plan to go to the appointment that night. Zhao Tiansheng approved with a nod. “Good, at least you’re a real man. I thought practicing the Buddhist inner breath would make you indifferent to all emotions, but seeing you like this puts my mind at ease.”

“But—” Zhao Tiansheng hesitated a bit. Mo Wen was in a passive position, and the smallest mistake could cost him his life. After a pause, Zhao Tiansheng continued, “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll go with you, keeping to the shadows, waiting for the right moment to act.”

Mo Wen bowed deeply in heartfelt thanks. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret. If there was any lingering barrier between himself and his teacher, it was because of his Buddhist inner breath—an enmity that, sadly, Zhao Tiansheng could never resolve.

After making their plan, Mo Wen sat alone in the small courtyard, lounging on a stone bench along the leafy path, watching the passersby, his heart at peace.

Students walking by couldn’t help but glance at the handsome young man with star-bright eyes and sword-sharp brows. A few bold girls even tried to strike up a conversation, their shy anticipation betraying their blossoming feelings.

Mo Wen smiled helplessly, gently turning down these sudden romantic overtures, though he was a little surprised. “Most of these students are still at the Soul Essence Realm—even flawless bodies are rare among them!”

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He thought of how, three years from now, when the Dao Pact expired, the demon clans would pour forth with all their might. By then, what would become of these vibrant, energetic students?

Mo Wen felt a growing distance between himself and his peers. The things he’d experienced were far beyond anything they could imagine.

As the sun set, Mo Wen grabbed a quick meal at the campus cafeteria, then sat idly in the library until after ten, when it was time to set out.

The Bund was far from the academy. Mo Wen drove, with the sword hound perched silently in the passenger seat, apparently sensing Mo Wen’s somber mood and, for once, refraining from mockery.

Lin Xi called. On the other end, she sounded excited. “Little brother, I did it! Grandpa wants you to come to the Northern Capital to see him!”

Perhaps infected by Lin Xi’s exuberance, Mo Wen’s mood lightened, and he replied with a faint smile, “Sister Lin, are you back? I have something to take care of tonight, so I’ll be late. And as I’ve said, I won’t go to the Northern Capital until I break through to Piercing Illusion.”

He didn’t mention Zhao’s mother to Lin Xi—not out of secrecy, but simply not wanting her to worry.

After a bit of playful banter, they hung up—the Bund was near.

The Bund lined the riverbank, and since Mo Wen had dispelled the mist from the Huangpu River, it had returned to normal. At night, many small yachts were docked along the shore, the pier brightly lit. Parking his car, Mo Wen let the sword hound shift into its sword form, ready to pick up any unusual movement.

He made a circuit of the pier but found nothing. Checking the time—11:57. Just as he was at a loss, a beam of light flashed by the riverbank, signaling for him to approach.

It was time.

Mo Wen quietly activated his inner breath, slowly walking toward the light. A brightly-lit yacht was moored by the shore, a man bundled from head to toe waiting outside.

“The person you’re looking for is inside. Do you dare go in?” the man said in a low voice.

Mo Wen smiled back, retorting, “No need to provoke me. Release her, and I’ll spare your life.”

The man’s cultivation was unimpressive—just at the Divine Pivot stage—but Mo Wen didn’t let down his guard. The man said nothing more, simply boarded the yacht. Mo Wen hesitated only a moment before following.

The yacht had two decks. The open deck was deserted, but inside the cabin it was a riot of noise and debauchery. As Mo Wen listened, a familiar voice caught his ear.

The Zhuo family! Zhuo Yue!

Could it be that the mastermind behind Zhao’s mother’s kidnapping was the Zhuo family? Mo Wen frowned, entering the cabin without revealing his thoughts, but the guide had vanished.

Mo Wen’s sudden entrance took everyone by surprise. Men and women, all in disarray, and Zhuo Yue himself was pressing a petite bunny girl beneath him, hard at his work.

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Mo Wen was stunned by the scene—there was no sign of Zhao’s mother. At that moment, Zhuo Yue spotted him and flew into a rage. “Well, well, I wondered who would dare barge onto my yacht. So it’s you, you bastard!”

Mo Wen was in no mood to argue. In a harsh voice, he demanded, “You called me here tonight just to watch you do this?”

Zhuo Yue was bewildered, not understanding a word Mo Wen said, cursing him vilely, his words as filthy as the scene in the cabin.

A surge of anger rose in Mo Wen, and he leveled his sword at Zhuo Yue’s lower body. Zhuo Yue shuddered in terror, instantly wilting, and hurriedly fumbled for his phone to call for help.

“Father, save me! Mo Wen’s trying to kill me!”

Before Mo Wen could act, the man who had led him in suddenly appeared and drove his fist straight through Zhuo Yue’s chest, leaving a gaping, transparent hole. Zhuo Yue stared at his chest in disbelief, unable to utter a sound, his trembling finger pointing at the man.

“You—!”

Even after killing Zhuo Yue, the man was unsatisfied. In a flash, he dispatched every man and woman in the cabin with a few brutal blows. Mo Wen sensed a familiar aura.

The Purest Inner Buddhist Art!

There was no mistaking it: the man’s murderous technique was the Purest Inner Buddhist Art, just like Mo Wen’s. After finishing, the man glanced at the sole survivor—Mo Wen—grinned, and darted out of the cabin, diving into the river and vanishing without a trace.

“Stop!” Mo Wen gave chase, but the man was well prepared, his body technique lightning-fast. Mo Wen simply couldn’t catch up.

This series of events left Mo Wen completely unprepared, but he quickly regained his composure. Before dying, Zhuo Yue had called his family, claiming Mo Wen was trying to kill him!

A meticulously devised plot, all to pit the Zhuo family and Zhao Tiansheng irreconcilably against each other!

A chill crept up Mo Wen’s spine. Only now did he realize—there was never any Zhao’s mother here. The whole thing was a ruse to lure him into taking the blame for murdering a Zhuo family scion!