"Bang!"
Han Li clenched both fists and slammed one of them hard against the tabletop.
"Smash the bottle open with a tool." That was the decision he had arrived at after much deliberation.
Using brute force to open it was a last resort — a solution that wasn't really a solution at all.
This approach, while simple, straightforward, and effective, came with a cost. Every time he imagined this strange, beautiful little bottle never being whole again, he felt a pang of heartache and deep reluctance. If there were any other way to open it, Han Li would never have resorted to such a crude method.
He could ask some of the other senior disciples for help — perhaps they could open it. But deep down, he had already, almost without realizing it, come to regard this item as his own treasure. There was absolutely no way he was going to let any outsider know about it. Besides, anyone on the mountain could potentially be the bottle's rightful owner. If they found out he had it and demanded it back, what would he do then? This little bottle was so beautiful, so fascinating — he simply couldn't bear to part with it now.
Han Li's curiosity had been completely inflamed by the mysterious contents of the bottle. He knew it might well be empty. But he was still willing to take the gamble — to bet that whatever was inside the bottle would be even more interesting than the bottle itself.
The more he thought about it, the more unbearable the itch became.
If he didn't unravel the mystery contained in this bottle, he wouldn't be able to sleep soundly at night.
With his mind made up, Han Li secretly slipped into the storage shed in the valley where miscellaneous tools were kept. He picked out a relatively heavy small iron hammer from among the assortment and carried it back to his room.
Back inside, he retrieved half a discarded hard green brick from the corner of the room, then selected a relatively flat depression in the floor. He placed the brick there, set the bottle horizontally across it, and steadied it in place.
Han Li raised the small hammer in his right hand. The hammerhead hovered in the air for a moment, then came down decisively onto the most protruding part of the bottle — its belly.
"Bang!"
Fearing that too much force might destroy whatever was inside, the first strike only landed gently, testing the bottle's hardness.
Seeing not the slightest crack, Han Li relaxed. It seemed he could use more force.
"Bang!" Fifty percent.
"Bang!" Seventy percent.
"Bang!" One hundred percent.
"Bang!" One hundred and twenty percent.
The force Han Li used grew greater and greater. His arm swung wider and wider, and the hammer came down faster with each blow. On the final strike, half of the bottle was driven into the green brick — yet the bottle remained completely intact, without the faintest sign that it might shatter.
Han Li was stunned. He still couldn't believe it as he reached out and touched the spot where the iron hammer had struck. There wasn't a single mark on it — smooth, gleaming green, the entire surface still pristine and polished.
This was far beyond anything he had expected.
Only now was Han Li truly certain that this little bottle was something extraordinary. It absolutely had not been deliberately abandoned. Nine out of ten, its owner had simply lost it by accident. And right now, that owner might very well be searching the entire mountain for it. If he wanted to keep this bottle, he had to hide it well and never let anyone else lay eyes on it again.
In Han Li's mind, anything he found on the ground — so long as he hadn't stolen or robbed it — naturally belonged to him. If it were something ordinary, he might have returned it to the owner. But this bottle was so mysterious, it had probably been dropped by one of the rich disciples or by someone of status on the mountain. Han Li didn't have a particularly favorable impression of either group.
His family had been poor since he was little. Even with the whole family working all day long, they often couldn't fill their stomachs for even a single proper meal. Within the Seven Mysteries Sect, he had often watched the first group squandering money, eating and drinking extravagantly — sect disciples who didn't feel like eating the standard meals could pay extra to receive specially prepared, far superior dishes — treating money as if it meant nothing. Whenever this happened, Han Li felt a knot of unease in his chest. To make matters worse, these wealthy disciples routinely looked down on and excluded disciples like him who came from poor backgrounds, frequently mocking and insulting them with their words. There had even been several small clashes between the two groups, and a few fistfights among the children. Han Li had taken part in one of those brawls. Unfortunately, he had been beaten black and blue by the wealthy disciples who actually knew martial arts, and couldn't show his face outside for days. It took several days of rest before he recovered.
As for those on the mountain who held status and position, they hadn't left much of a favorable impression on Han Li either. From Protector Wang collecting bribery money from Third Uncle, to Wu Yan using Vice Sect Master Ma's authority to waltz straight into Seven Absolute Hall — he hadn't met many of the mountain's important figures, but the grand image of the powerful that he had once held as a child had been thoroughly shattered.
For things lost by either of these two types of people, Han Li not only had no intention of returning them — he felt like hiding them away out of sheer spite.
With this thought, Han Li immediately took down a small leather pouch that hung around his neck. His mother had sewn it for him from a piece of animal hide when he left home — it was waterproof and moisture-resistant, made to hold a Peace Talisman carved from a wild boar's tooth, placed there in the hope that it would keep him safe and sound, free from illness or misfortune.
Han Li loosened the drawstring of the pouch, placed the bottle inside together with the Peace Talisman, pulled the strings tight, and hung the pouch back around his neck.
After finishing all this, he looked around carefully. No one was nearby. He puffed out his chest, patted the slightly bulging pouch over his breast, and felt satisfied that it wouldn't draw anyone's attention.
Only then did he finally feel at ease, no longer fearing that some mishap might occur and the bottle's owner would find it and demand it back.
Han Li quietly returned the hammer to its original spot, then strolled casually around Divine Hand Valley, putting on a perfectly nonchalant air, until the sky had grown completely dark. Then he dragged his aching foot back to his room.
(End of chapter)