During this period, something rather significant happened within the Seven Mysteries Sect as well.
The new generation of disciples' idol, "Senior Brother Li," sharp-witted as ever, saw through the plot of two spies planted by the Wild Wolf Gang who had been attempting to steal the list of disciples assigned to descend the mountain for field training. Together with over a dozen fellow disciples, he captured them alive in one fell swoop, earning no small merit.
A few days later, Sect Master Wang publicly bestowed upon Li Feiyu the rank of Protector before a crowd of disciples, formally elevating him to the middle echelons of the Seven Mysteries Sect. The announcement caused quite a stir, and Li Feiyu's reputation grew even more illustrious.
Han Li, meanwhile, knew nothing of any of this. He was inside his sealed wooden cabin, deep in intensive training. Apart from the occasional trip to the kitchen for food, he had not had contact with anyone for days, and naturally had no inkling of his good friend's current glory.
Summer gave way to autumn, and time flew by like an arrow. The day finally arrived — the last day before the agreed-upon deadline.
In the thornbrake at the bottom of the ravine, an uncanny figure drifted in and out among the razor-sharp branches. The countless dangerous thorns posed not the slightest obstacle to him; he wove through the dense web of thorny vines like a wisp of green mist, a phantom slipping silently from one lattice of brambles to the next. One moment he appeared nearby, the next he materialized from the distance. The entire process was utterly silent, as though he were not made of flesh and blood at all, but an incorporeal being.
At last, the figure came to rest atop a tree trunk, standing straight on a branch and gazing into the distance toward Divine Hand Valley. It was none other than Han Li, whose training had borne its first fruits.
His clothes were slashed to ribbons, so tattered that the skin beneath was exposed in places. His hair hung loose and disheveled, and his face was streaked with grime and pale marks, rendering his original features unrecognizable. Most surprisingly, small iron bells were fastened at his neck, waist, arms, thighs, and ankles.
Seeing those little bells — and recalling Han Li's ghostly movements through the thornbrake — one could easily imagine how bizarre his footwork must have been.
He stood motionless, staring in the direction of Divine Hand Valley, and murmured to himself: "Perfect timing. I finally mastered the Gauze Mist Footwork on the very last day. With this, I have one more card to play for self-defense."
Though his expression was impossible to make out, the delight in his eyes shone through without any attempt at concealment.
After months of painstaking study and grueling practice, Han Li had mastered several techniques of considerable power. He felt a measure of confidence in them — confident enough that even if he couldn't hope to match Doctor Mo's unfathomable skills, he could at least hold his own in protecting himself.
A light breeze drifted by, and Han Li felt a chill on his skin. He looked down at his "riddled outfit," imagined what he must look like at this moment, and couldn't help but let out a bitter, wry laugh.
Thinking back on his experience practicing the Gauze Mist Footwork still gave him a lingering sense of dread. Training footwork in a thornbrake was genuinely a life-threatening endeavor. In the beginning, when his movements were still clumsy and unfamiliar, it was unavoidable that the hard thorns on the branches would rake across his body, leaving him covered in cuts, drenched in blood.
Fortunately, he still had Essence Nourishing Pills on hand. They could heal internal injuries, but remarkably, they proved astonishingly effective on external wounds as well. After taking a single pill, the bleeding stopped almost immediately and scabs formed on the spot. By the next day, even the scars had vanished without a trace.
Han Li had clicked his tongue in wonder over this for quite some time. This medicine was far superior to any ordinary wound salve — he just couldn't understand why it had been named "Essence Nourishing Pill." In his view, something like "Scar Remover" or "Blood Stopper" would have been far more fitting.
Had the illustrious expert who created the Essence Nourishing Pill known of Han Li's thoughts, he probably would have spat blood from sheer fury. That he, a master alchemist, had painstakingly crafted a supreme healing elixir, only to have it compared against the common "golden wound paste" sold by itinerant quacks — what could possibly be more enraging?
But it was precisely because he had trained under such dangerous conditions that Han Li was able to unleash his full potential, bringing the Gauze Mist Footwork to a usable level of proficiency in a remarkably short time — just enough to put it to immediate use.
Moreover, Han Li's Eternal Spring Technique had, just a few days prior, advanced to the sixth layer without any unexpected setbacks. This was the highest layer for which Doctor Mo had provided him the technique manual. Without those dozen or so bottles of spirit medicine to assist him, he could have strained with all his might and still might never have reached this level in his lifetime.
After years of cultivation, Han Li had developed considerable insight into the Eternal Spring Technique. He felt this method was remarkably unique — entirely different from ordinary martial arts, whether in its cultivation approach or its effects.
First, Han Li believed that the success and speed of cultivating this technique depended mainly on the individual — specifically, on whether the practitioner's aptitude was compatible with the method.
Those with superior aptitude could naturally progress smoothly and without obstruction. Presumably, even without external assistance, they could reach a fairly advanced level through sheer hard work alone.
Those with poor aptitude, however, would find themselves stuck once they reached a certain layer. Without spirit medicines to help, progress would grind to a halt. Han Li surmised that such a person would likely never advance further for the rest of their life — just as he himself had cultivated the first three layers with relative ease, only to hit a wall of extraordinary difficulty at the fourth layer, unable to make the slightest progress.
But with the aid of spirit elixirs, the impossible became possible. One could break through the limits of one's natural aptitude and advance to the next level. From this, one could see just how heavily the technique depended on medicinal power.
Of course, the way Han Li consumed spirit pills — one or two per day like snacks — was probably something virtually no one else in the world did. As a result, the fifth and sixth layers, which should have been considerably harder to master, yielded to him with no effort at all, without anything like the agonizing struggle he had experienced at the fourth layer.
Now, with the sixth layer of the Eternal Spring Technique fully mastered, the only benefits Han Li had noticed so far were a more vigorous surge of energy and a sharper mind. Other than that, no other remarkable effects had yet appeared. Strangely enough, since he first began cultivating the Eternal Spring Technique, each successive layer had only enhanced his mental faculties, his senses, and his perception — its effect on his physical body had been negligible, limited to modest improvements in strength and agility. The energy current it generated — which Han Li called "pseudo-true Qi" — could circulate freely through his meridians just like ordinary true Qi, but apart from making his sense of touch even more acute, it had no practical application and could not match the devastating power of true Qi.
Furthermore, having reached this stage, he felt certain that beyond the sixth layer there must be additional sections of the manual. Perhaps all the technique's true wonders lay in those final layers.
At this thought, he shook his head with a trace of helplessness and sighed. Given his current relationship with Doctor Mo, obtaining the techniques for the later layers was simply out of the question.
Pulling himself from his idle thoughts, Han Li leaped from the branch and landed softly on the ground without so much as a sound. Then he strode off toward his small wooden cabin.
Tomorrow he would meet Doctor Mo. Before that, he needed to make full use of his abilities, mapping out every step of the encounter in his mind well in advance — carefully considering each subtle detail of what might unfold and drafting the optimal response to every conceivable danger.
(End of Chapter)