Ten-year-old Mo Hua wore the simple robes of an outer sect disciple, listlessly squatting behind a large rock at the foot of the mountain. He held grass roots in his hand and was burying himself in the ground, drawing intricate patterns.,Let me know if you have any other text you'd like me to translate!,"Good! Good! No matter how talented you are, or how hard you train, in the end you will all still be working for the Qian family like oxen and horses!"。