"Peng" punched the ancient pine tree beside him, and bright red blood dripped down his fingers.
Mo Zhiyao's expression was dull, but the pain flowing in his eyes revealed that his heart was not as calm as he appeared.
A gust of wind blew by, lifting the cuff of his left arm against the tree, revealing a somewhat pale arm.
Mo Zhiyao's eyes fell on his arms, and the pain in his eyes became even more intense.
Mo Zhiyao felt that he was so incompatible with the whole world and could not integrate into it at all, or that he had been abandoned by the world.
"Why?"
Mo Zhiyao was like a wounded beast, licking his wounds alone in a deserted place.
“Why can’t we condense human patterns?”
Except for the sound of hunting, no one answered Mo Zhiyao's question.
"Haha, among the five human patterns, even among the whole clan, I am enough to rank in the top ten."
The sudden sound of voices in the distance made Mo Zhiyao's expression quickly dim and became dull again.
The left arm that was leaning against the tree was also lowered, and the sleeves hanging down covered the exposed arm.
Following the sound, a group of young people around the age of twelve or thirteen were walking in the distance.
The person speaking was a young man with a burly figure and a sinister face who was surrounded by people.
"Brother Mo Heng can condense five human patterns.
Even compared with Mo Haoming, the number one genius of our Mo family, he is only two behind.
If you ask me, ranking in the top five is not a problem."
A round figure Get lost, the boy with a baby face said with a flattering smile.
"Yes, Brother Mo Heng's father is one of the twelve elders, so how can his qualifications be so bad?"
Another young man who was like a bamboo pole echoed.
"Brother Mo Heng has good qualifications, but he is the elder's son.
Hey, not necessarily.
The best loser in our clan is also the elder's son."
The baby-faced young man Mo Hang curled his lips, with a hint of tone in his tone.
With disdain.
"How can that good-for-nothing Mo Zhiyao be compared with our big brother Mo Heng?
He is twelve years old and can't even form a human pattern.
Besides, his elder's father has been dead for more than a year.
If it hadn't been for his father before, If you keep protecting him, he will be expelled from the clan long ago."
Mo Yang, who looked like a bamboo pole, looked equally contemptuous.
Surrounded by everyone in the center, Mo Heng looked like a star holding the moon, with a proud expression on his face.
At an unintentional glance, he was stunned for a moment, and then a mocking smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"Hey, isn't this the best loser of our Mo family, Young Master Mo Zhiyao?"
Mo Heng stopped and crossed his arms, showing no trace of provocation.
The people beside him also stopped and looked sarcastically at Mo Zhiyao in front of him.
Mo Heng's father, Mo Lang, is one of the twelve newly promoted elders in the clan, taking the place of Mo Zhiyao's father, Mo Cang.
Many years ago, Mo Lang and Mo Cang competed for the position of elder, and Mo Cang won.
The relationship between the two families became very tense, and even the descendants of the two were hostile to each other.
However, when Mo Cang was alive, Mo Heng was somewhat restrained.
Now that Mo Cang is dead and Mo Lang has ascended the elder throne, Mo Heng has become unscrupulous.
Mo Zhiyao's expression didn't waver at all, as if he hadn't heard anything, and walked straight past Mo Heng's group of people, without even giving Mo Heng a look.
Mo Zhiyao's ignorance made Mo Hengming angry.
He snorted coldly, and his disdainful voice became louder and more vicious: "Trash is just like your damn father."
Mo Zhiyao's forward steps suddenly stopped, and he turned around.
His eyes were instantly bloodshot, and he looked at Mo Heng like a hungry wolf.
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His cold voice seemed to freeze the air, and he said word by word: "Who do you think is waste" Mo Zhiyao could tolerate others insulting him, but he could never tolerate someone insulting his father.
Mo Heng touched his bottom line and finally aroused Mo Zhiyao's rebound.
Seeing Mo Zhiyao's fierce eyes, Mo Heng subconsciously took a step back.
The words he blurted out before were also spoken out, and after saying them, Mo Heng also felt a little regretful.
After all, Mo Cang was also one of the elders during his lifetime, and he died fighting for his clan.
If Mo Heng's words fell into the ears of the elders of the clan, he would probably at least be reprimanded.
However, when Mo Zhiyao, whom he had always looked down upon, shouted back, Mo Heng suddenly felt that his face was dull and he had lost face in front of everyone, which aroused the ferocity in his heart.
He immediately put aside the trace of regret in his heart and roared angrily.
Said: "I said you are a waste, how about your father is also a waste?"
"Ah" roared, and all the depression in Mo Zhiyao's heart was completely ignited by Mo Heng at this moment, like an erupting volcano, unstoppable.
His thin body, like a moth flying into the flames, suddenly rushed towards Mo Heng, who was twice his size.
Mo Zhiyao, who always refused to retaliate when he was scolded as "seeking death" and was allowed to be manipulated by others, actually resisted in public, which made Mo Heng even more angry.
He punched out with a sound of breaking wind and hit Mo Zhiyao hard on the chest. .
Mo Heng is thirteen years old this year.
He has condensed five human marks and not even one human mark.
How can Mo Zhiyao, who is one year younger than him, be his opponent and be blasted away?
The spinning body flew backwards like a cannonball and fell into the dust.
"Poof" a puff of blood spurted out.
Mo Zhiyao felt his chest was on fire and his eyes went black.
"Step" stepped on Mo Zhiyao's face with one foot, and Mo Heng said with a ferocious smile: "According to the clan rules, anyone who cannot form a human pattern before the age of thirteen will be expelled from the clan regardless of their status.
There is still one year left and you will be living on the streets, so cherish this last time."
"Also, if you are expelled from the clan, you will never have the chance to offer incense and kowtow to your damn father."
Lowering his head, Mo Heng approached Mo Zhiyao, the smile on his face looked particularly cruel.
Expelling the clan is equivalent to severing ties with the Mo family.
He is no longer a member of the Mo family.
Naturally, Mo Zhiyao is not qualified to enter the Mo family ancestral hall to worship his father, Mo Cang.
The sandy soles crushed Mo Zhiyao's face twice.
Mo Heng turned around, laughed unbridled, and left with the teenagers. .
After getting up from the ground with difficulty, Mo Zhiyao wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, wiped the sand and mud on his face carelessly, and staggered towards his residence.
This is the back hill of the family.
After the death of his father Mo Cang, Mo Zhiyao moved out from the previous inner courtyard and built a thatched house in the back hill to live alone.
Although no one drove him out, Mo Zhiyao could already tell a lot from the servant's attitude.
At a young age, he has already tasted the warmth and coldness of human nature.
The nails dug deeply into the palms, and the blood dripping between the fingers fell to the ground drop by drop, looking so dazzling.
"Dad..."
The scattered hair in front of his forehead covered the overwhelming hatred in Mo Zhiyao's eyes.
His thin figure looked so lonely and lonely under the slanting light of the setting sun.
The stars are bright and the moon is shining, the night wind is blowing gently, and the chill of late autumn midnight brings endless desolation, just like Mo Zhiyao's mood at this moment.
Mo Zhiyao sat cross-legged on the ground, letting the cold wind blow his hair flying and his clothes rustling.
Starting from the age of five, Mo Zhiyao began to practice basic methods like other children in the clan.
Seven years without interruption made Mo Zhiyao's body extremely full of spiritual energy, but for some unknown reason, he could not condense the human pattern.
The twelve levels of cultivation include the first level of Qi gathering, the second level of spiritual transformation, and the third level of Nai Yuan.
Before that, one needs to condense the human pattern.
Only by successfully condensing the human pattern can one step into the first level and start real cultivation.
It starts with one and ends with nine.
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Before each level, up to nine human patterns can be condensed, but at least one must be condensed before promotion can be achieved.
By condensing a human pattern, one can be promoted to the Qi Gathering Realm.
But after promotion, it is no longer reversible.
The human patterns condensed later can only be used to advance to the next level, the spiritual realm.
The difference in strength between the promotion of one human pattern and the promotion of nine human patterns is completely different.
Therefore, everyone works hard to improve.
Even if there is an extra human mark, the combat power after promotion will be greatly different.
But everyone's qualifications are different.
Some people can only condense one human pattern at most.
If they don't get promoted, they won't be able to condense a second human pattern.
Mo Haoming, the first genius of the Mo family, condensed seven human patterns before being promoted to the Qi Gathering Realm.
Now that the five paths have been condensed, it seems that it is not the limit, so it has not been promoted to the spirit realm.
Every time you advance to a higher level, you will get an opportunity to condense the human patterns again, at least one of them can be condensed.
But if there are too few human patterns condensed at each level, then the level that can be improved is also limited, and it cannot continue to improve.
There is no other reason, the foundation is too poor.
Mo Zhiyao was a different kind of person.
He couldn't even condense a single human pattern.
At that time, Mo Cang invited all the elders in the clan, and even the clan leader personally took action, but he could not find out the reason.
If he couldn't absorb the spiritual energy, Mo Cang would give up.
However, Mo Zhiyao could absorb spiritual energy like ordinary people and store it in his dantian, but he couldn't condense it into human lines.
For several years, Mo Cang searched for famous doctors.
Unfortunately, after seeing them, they were all helpless and unable to solve the problem, until now.
"Zhiyao."
A kind voice sounded, and an old man in green clothes appeared behind Mo Zhiyao at some point.
"Elder Xuanyu."
Mo Zhiyao stood up quickly and looked at the kind old man opposite, feeling a warmth in his heart.
Since the death of his father Mo Cang, the only one in the clan who treats him as always is Elder Xuanyu.
After Mo Zhiyao moved to Back Mountain, Elder Xuanyu came here to visit him from time to time.
"The injury on your face" Elder Xuanyu's expression changed when he saw the blood stains on Mo Zhiyao's face.
"It was Mo Heng who did it again."
Mo Zhiyao gave a noncommittal wry smile and said nothing.
Although Elder Xuanyu is also one of the twelve elders in the clan, he is a peaceful person and does not like to fight for power and gain.
Mo Zhiyao did not want to provoke a conflict between Elder Xuanyu and Mo Heng's father Mo Lang, who was also the twelfth elder because of his own affairs.
"Humph, this Mo Heng is getting more and more outrageous."
Elder Xuan Yu's expression turned ugly.
"If your father hadn't died, it wouldn't have been Mo Lang's turn to take the elder's position."
As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Elder Xuanyu saw Mo Zhiyao's eyes dimming instantly.
He knew that he had made a mistake and quickly changed the subject.
"Okay, let's not talk about that.
Zhiyao, let's see what progress we have today."
Elder Xuanyu took a step forward, took Mo Zhiyao's left hand, held Mo Zhiyao's wrist, and a trace of pure spiritual power entered , guiding Mo Zhiyao's spiritual power stored in his dantian.
"Don't give up, there must be hope."
Elder Xuanyu whispered gently, with encouragement in his eyes, but he still couldn't stop the compassion.
Mo Zhiyao nodded.
Over the years, Elder Xuanyu has been helping him, but unfortunately, he failed to live up to his expectations.
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Feeling the spiritual energy entering his body, Mo Zhiyao closed his eyes, calmed down, and let the spiritual energy in his Dantian begin to travel throughout his body under the guidance of Elder Xuanyu, and finally returned to his left arm.
A mysterious pattern with a faint silver glow gradually appeared on Mo Zhiyao's left arm.
The light gradually became stronger and the patterns became clearer.
"Yes, that's it.
Relax a little and pour your spiritual power into it smoothly."
Elder Xuanyu's face also showed a trace of nervousness, but he said slowly.
Even Mo Zhiyao's breathing became inaudible, and he carefully and continuously input the spiritual energy in his body into the pattern on his left arm at a constant speed, not daring to be careless.
The silver pattern became brighter and dazzling, becoming clearer.
As the pulse on Mo Zhiyao's arm beat regularly, he saw that a complete and gorgeous pattern was about to be completely formed.
"Pop" sounded as crisply as glass breaking, and the pattern turned into a ball of fluorescence, scattering around like fireworks, and Mo Zhiyao's heart sank to the bottom.
Elder Xuanyu also had a look of disappointment, but when he saw Mo Zhiyao who was obviously lost, he still managed to smile and said warmly: "Don't be discouraged, this time is much better than last time, only a little difference."
Success, go back and practice more, and try again after some time."
The bitterness on Mo Zhiyao's face was clearly revealed, and he nodded obediently, touching down his sleeves and covering his arms.
Elder Xuanyu sighed in his heart, comforted Mo Zhiyao a few more words, then turned and left.
"Ah" the suppressed roar cut through the night, and anyone could hear the pain and despair in it.
When Elder Xuanyu reached the foot of the mountain, his steps stopped and the pity in his eyes became even stronger.
"Why why can't I condense the human pattern?"
Mo Zhiyao's face was distorted, with deep reluctance in his eyes, and his hands were dug into the soil on the ground.
"There's still one year left, even if it's just a human pattern, I just want to be able to pay homage to my father.
Isn't this even enough?"
Half an hour later, Mo Zhiyao, who gradually calmed down, stood up with one hand on the ground, preparing to return to his hut.
Turning around, Mo Zhiyao's pupils suddenly narrowed, and a figure that could be called a huge figure appeared behind him at some point.
Twelve-year-old Mo Zhiyao's height could barely reach the opponent's knees.
Although this is the back mountain, it is still within the scope of the Mo family after all.
This person can appear here without alerting anyone.
Even the elder Xuanyu who just now did not notice it.
How can Mo Zhiyao not be afraid?
The bright moon in the sky was obscured by the huge figure, and Mo Zhiyao could only see a pair of blood-red eyes that made people tremble.
"Since you are so desperate like me, let's give each other one last chance."
A voice so low that it could shake the soul sounded in my mind, and then, a huge hand grabbed Mo Zhiyao's thin body. , the huge figure merged into the night
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