“Bang!” Han Li clenched his hands, slamming one fist fiercely onto the table.
“Smash the bottle open with a tool.” This was the decision Han Li reached after much deliberation.
Using brute force to open it had always been a last resort—an option born of desperation.
Although this method was straightforward and effective, the thought of destroying such a uniquely beautiful bottle pained him deeply. He was extremely reluctant. If there were any other way to open it, he would never have resorted to such a crude approach.
Perhaps he could ask his senior brothers for help. But deep down, Han Li had already come to regard the bottle as his own treasure, and he was utterly unwilling to let anyone else know about it. Besides, anyone on the mountain could be its owner. What if they found out he had it and demanded it back? The bottle was so exquisite and intriguing—he couldn’t bear to part with it now.
Han Li’s curiosity about the mysterious contents of the bottle had been thoroughly piqued. Though he knew it might be empty, he was willing to gamble that what was inside would be even more fascinating than the bottle itself.
The more he thought about it, the more restless he became. If he didn’t solve the mystery of the bottle, he wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully that night.
Having made up his mind, Han Li sneaked into the valley’s storage shed, selected a relatively heavy small hammer from among the tools, and brought it back to his room.
Once inside, he retrieved a half-broken, sturdy blue brick from a corner and found a relatively flat depression on the floor. He placed the brick there, then carefully laid the bottle horizontally on top of it.
Han Li raised the hammer with his right hand, paused briefly in the air, and then decisively struck the most protruding part of the bottle—its belly.
*Thump!*
Afraid that too much force might damage whatever was inside, he started with a light tap to test the bottle’s hardness. Seeing no signs of cracking, he felt relieved and decided to use more force.
*Thump!* — Half strength.
*Thump!* — Seventy percent strength.
*Thump!* — Full strength.
*Thump!* — Even more force.
Han Li struck with increasing intensity, his arm swinging more wildly with each blow, the hammer falling faster and faster. The final strike even embedded half the bottle into the brick, yet the vessel remained completely intact, showing no signs of breaking.
Stunned, Han Li reached out and touched the spot where the hammer had struck. There wasn’t a single mark—the surface remained smooth and gleaming emerald green.
This was completely beyond his expectations.
Now Han Li was truly convinced that this little bottle was no ordinary object. It definitely hadn’t been intentionally discarded; most likely, the owner had accidentally lost it. Perhaps they were searching all over the mountain for it right now. If he wanted to keep it, he had to hide it carefully and ensure no one else saw it.
In Han Li’s mind, anything found on the ground belonged to the finder, as long as it wasn’t stolen. For an ordinary item, he might have returned it, but this bottle was too mysterious. It probably belonged to some rich kid or a person of status on the mountain—neither of whom left a good impression on him.
Han Li’s family had always been poor. No matter how hard they worked all day, they often struggled to have a full meal. At the Seven Mysteries Sect, he often saw the wealthy disciples spend extravagantly, eating and drinking lavishly (disciples could pay extra for better meals if they didn’t want the standard fare), treating money as if it were worthless. Whenever he saw this, he felt a pang of discomfort. Moreover, these rich kids often looked down on and mocked disciples from poorer backgrounds, sometimes even insulting them. There had been several small conflicts and even group fights among the children. Han Li had been involved in one such fight, only to be beaten black and blue by the martial-trained wealthy disciples, leaving him too embarrassed to show his face. It took several days of rest for him to recover.
As for those with status or influence on the mountain, they hadn’t left a good impression either—from Protector Wang accepting bribes from his third uncle to Wu Yan leveraging Vice-Sect Leader Ma’s influence to directly enter the Seven Supreme Hall. Although he hadn’t met many important figures, the idealized image he once held of such people had already shattered.
For something lost by either of these types, Han Li not only had no desire to return it but even felt a mischievous urge to hide it away.
With this thought, Han Li immediately took off a small leather pouch hanging around his neck. His mother had specially made it for him from a piece of animal hide before he left home—waterproof and moisture-proof—to hold a wild boar tusk talisman meant to protect him from harm and ensure his safety.
He loosened the pouch’s drawstring, placed the bottle inside alongside the talisman, tightened it again, and hung the pouch back around his neck.
After doing all this, he glanced around to ensure no one was watching, then straightened his posture and patted the slightly bulging pouch on his chest, satisfied that it wouldn’t attract attention.
Only then did he feel truly at ease, no longer worried that the bottle might be found and reclaimed by its owner.
Quietly, Han Li returned the hammer to its original place and strolled casually around Divine Hand Valley as if nothing had happened. He lingered until nightfall before finally returning to his room, dragging his injured foot behind him.
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