“Oh, it’s nothing. I’ve cultivated some lightning-based techniques, so I’m naturally curious about such things. What do you plan to exchange this for, fellow Daoist?” Han Li played with the thunderwood in his hand for a moment before replying nonchalantly.
Upon hearing that Han Li was genuinely interested in the willow branch, the old man within the white mist was momentarily taken aback. He scrutinized Han Li up and down before speaking in a hoarse voice, “Although I haven’t yet discovered the true purpose of this thunderwood, its value is hard to estimate since it’s a spiritual wood formed by heavenly lightning. Here’s the deal: I’m currently refining a batch of ‘Qian Yuan Pills’ and lack a five-thousand-year spiritual herb of any kind. If you can provide one, this piece of thunderwood is yours. Of course, if you have top-tier spirit stones or other items of equivalent value, I won’t refuse those either.”
“How do you know I have spiritual herbs?” Han Li’s heart tightened, and his expression darkened beneath the white mist.
“Don’t be alarmed, fellow Daoist. I possess a minor ability—my sense of smell far surpasses that of ordinary people. When you traded with that demon woman earlier, I caught a whiff of the medicinal fragrance from the wooden box you took out. It was a three-thousand-year spiritual herb, wasn’t it? Since you could produce such an herb so casually, it’s highly likely you have one over five thousand years as well,” the old man said in a low voice.
Han Li was momentarily speechless.
He had heard of a great Buddhist ability that could enhance a cultivator’s five senses—legendary powers like mind-reading, clairvoyance, and clairaudience were similar. In a way, his own Bright Sight Eyes were a manifestation of such abilities, though they hadn’t yet reached the unimaginable heights of those legendary techniques.
Once he understood the reason, Han Li’s expression softened. He said slowly, “I see. Since you’ve already specified a spiritual herb, I happen to have one in my possession. Take a look and see if it suits your needs.”
Without any intention of haggling, Han Li raised his hand, and a white light flashed as a rectangular wooden box appeared. He tossed it lightly to the old man.
The old man was slightly surprised that Han Li had agreed so readily to his terms. Overjoyed, he caught the box, opened the lid for a brief glance, and immediately closed it again.
“Excellent, this is indeed a five-thousand-year spiritual herb, perfect for my pill refinement,” the old man said, stowing the box away with great satisfaction.
Seeing this, Han Li smiled faintly. With a slight shake of his hand, the willow branch disappeared as well. He then clasped his fists in a brief salute and turned to leave without another word.
In front of these old foxes, speaking too much was bound to lead to mistakes.
After leaving the Tai Xuan Hall, Han Li wandered through other parts of the market. However, given his wealth—possessing both a Heaven-reaching Spiritual Treasure and countless spiritual herbs—none of the items in the shops could easily tempt him. After a few hours, he returned to the giant stone tower.
Upon entering the quiet chamber of his team’s hall, Han Li cast a spell on the stone door, temporarily activating the chamber’s restrictions to prevent disturbances.
Still not entirely at ease, he sent out several beams of multicolored light that vanished into the four corners of the chamber.
With another hand seal, a layer of white mist appeared on the stone walls, completely blocking any possibility of prying eyes.
Only then did Han Li sit cross-legged on the meditation mat with peace of mind. With a flick of his hand, the half-foot-long thunderwood appeared in his grasp.
The object was only as thick as a thumb, an exceptionally vibrant green, with tiny swirling patterns on its surface that seemed to draw one’s gaze deep into them.
Back in the Tai Xuan Hall, he hadn’t examined it closely. Now, he ran his fingers slowly over every inch of the branch, closing his eyes as he did so.
The lightning energy beneath the bark was incredibly violent, yet it had solidified into this form—truly an unbelievable phenomenon.
With this thought, he opened his eyes again. A green glow flickered on his hand as he began to channel a trace of spiritual power into the branch.
But the moment he did, the branch trembled slightly, and a repelling force suddenly emerged, pushing the spiritual power back out.
A flicker of surprise crossed Han Li’s mind as the green glow on his hand grew brighter.
The branch trembled, emitting a faint white light that intertwined with the green glow, yet the two refused to merge.
After a while, a faint hum arose between the two lights.
Frowning, Han Li waved his hand, and the green glow dissipated.
Clearly, forcing more spiritual power into it might work, but the branch itself would likely explode and be destroyed.
With Han Li’s experience, this wasn’t the only method to study the object.
A series of thunderclaps erupted from the hand holding the branch as golden lightning arcs appeared, enveloping it in an instant.
The branch remained motionless under the golden arcs, showing no reaction.
Han Li wasn’t discouraged. If it were so easy to uncover its secrets, its previous owner wouldn’t have treated it as worthless.
Suddenly, Han Li tossed the branch into the air, where it hovered, spinning slowly.
He flicked a finger, and a golden sword Qi shot out, slicing the branch cleanly in half.
A low thunderclap sounded as a white arc flashed, and the two halves drifted gently downward.
Without hesitation, Han Li reached out, and the two pieces flew into his hand.
A quick glance revealed silvery-white cross-sections.
Blue light flashed in Han Li’s eyes as he focused, realizing that the silvery-white hue was actually countless ultra-fine lightning threads woven together in an intricate, almost unbelievable pattern.
The complexity was astounding!
Without his spiritual eyes, he would never have noticed anything unusual.
In the blink of an eye, a layer of emerald green spread over the silvery threads, transforming the two halves into completely independent branches.
Han Li was genuinely astonished.
Manipulating lightning arcs and condensing them into solid forms was one of his specialties. But refining lightning to this degree and arranging it into such an incredible state was something he’d never even considered.
The complexity far surpassed his previous techniques of weaving lightning nets or forming lightning spheres with his Divine Devilbane Lightning.
The level of mental control required for this was astonishingly high—otherwise, achieving such precision would be impossible.
Han Li held the two pieces, lost in thought.
Suddenly, his eyes flashed as he pointed at one of them.
A golden light sliced through it again, splitting it once more.
This time, prepared, Han Li focused his divine sense, bringing one of the new sections directly before his eyes to examine the silvery cross-section.
His blue-glowing eyes stared unblinkingly at the intricate patterns, his expression grave.
Though the cross-section was similarly silvery, the lightning threads formed a completely different pattern from the first.
Soon, the cross-section was again covered by a layer of emerald green.
Han Li closed his eyes slowly, as if pondering deeply.
Suddenly, his fingers flicked rapidly, slicing the branch into countless tiny pieces. He ignored repeated patterns, focusing only on new ones.
In no time, half the branch was reduced to fragments scattered across the floor.
When a look of realization crossed Han Li’s face, the golden sword Qi shifted direction, slicing the other half lengthwise into two perfectly even pieces.
After another careful examination, golden threads continued to fly, reducing this half into a pile of paper-thin slices.
Despite their thinness, the remnants remained incredibly stable, containing terrifying lightning energy without any sign of eruption.
Han Li suddenly flipped his hand, producing a white jade slip.
Gripping it, he instantly imprinted all the cross-section patterns he’d observed onto the slip.
Only then did he exhale deeply.
Even with his prodigious memory, memorizing so many intricate lightning patterns in one go was exhausting.
After a brief rest, Han Li began quietly contemplating the patterns.
For no particular reason, the moment he’d seen them, he’d felt 70-80% certain that these patterns were the key to the thunderwood’s formation.
Han Li sat like this for an entire day and night, motionless as a statue.
Suddenly, his eyelids twitched, and his fingers snapped outward with a thunderous roar!
Golden lightning arcs erupted, shattering into countless hair-thin threads that shot in all directions.
Han Li murmured incantations, his fingers dancing in the air.
The threads paused, then converged, weaving together to form a bizarre pattern—one identical to a lightning pattern he’d memorized.
Just as it seemed about to solidify into a golden cloth-like entity, a “pfft” sounded, and the entire structure burst apart.
Amidst firecracker-like thunderclaps, it disintegrated.
Han Li took a deep breath. Far from disappointed, his eyes gleamed with excitement.
He’d been right—the moment the golden pattern formed, he’d sensed an inexplicable power emanating from it.
Unfortunately, before he could study it further, a single misaligned thread had ruined everything.
Han Li inhaled deeply, rubbing his hands together. A thick golden arc crackled between his palms, rumbling softly.
Again, it shattered into countless golden threads—this time far more numerous than before.
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