“Blink Sword Art?” Han Li muttered the name of the technique to himself.
“Yeah, what does a sword technique have to do with blinking? Isn’t that a funny name?”
“Have you practiced this sword technique?” Han Li asked with concern.
“Of course not. Who would practice a martial art that doesn’t even use internal energy? It’s just for show, isn’t it? Not just me—no one has ever practiced it since it was created.”
“I heard that if it weren’t for the elder who created it, who once saved the Seven Mysteries Sect from several crises and, on his deathbed, left a will insisting that this technique be included in the Seven Supreme Hall, the Blink Sword Art would never have made it into the hall’s collection of supreme techniques.”
Li Feiyu, despite his cold exterior, had a big mouth—completely at odds with his appearance. Before Han Li could even ask, he had spilled all the details about the technique. Of course, this side of him only showed around Han Li; in front of other disciples, he was still the cool, idolized “Senior Brother Li.”
After listening to Li Feiyu’s explanation, Han Li’s intuition faintly told him that this was exactly what he had been searching for.
“Senior Brother Li, could you copy this technique for me and bring it out of the Seven Supreme Hall?”
“Hehe! No problem. If it were any other technique, I wouldn’t be able to copy it for you—they’re checked and inspected daily. But the Blink Sword Art is just sitting in a corner, completely ignored. Copying it would be too much trouble, though. How about I sneak the original manual out for you? Once you’ve memorized or copied it, I’ll sneak it back in. No one will ever notice.” Li Feiyu casually proposed an even bolder plan.
Seeing how confident he seemed, Han Li agreed. He had initially been worried about Li Feiyu’s careless habits—if he were to copy the manual, he might accidentally miss a few parts, which would be a disaster. Having the original was undoubtedly better.
“Alright, it’s getting late. I should head back to practice. Otherwise, the Seven Supreme Hall manager might catch me sneaking out again.” Li Feiyu dried himself off, put his shirt back on, and prepared to leave.
Han Li said nothing more, only reminding him to be careful when stealing the manual and not to get caught.
Li Feiyu turned away dismissively, waved his hand back at Han Li with a flourish, and slowly climbed out of the nearby cave.
Han Li watched his figure gradually disappear into the cave entrance, the smile on his face fading and replaced by a shadow of worry.
Not long after Li Feiyu left, Han Li returned to the God Hand Valley. As soon as he entered, he spotted the tall, mysterious man from afar.
The man stood motionless outside Dr. Mo’s room, leaning against the door, wearing a hood as if completely unfazed by the scorching summer sun.
Han Li stopped by the door of his own room and gazed at this silent man.
Ever since being threatened by Dr. Mo, Han Li had been deeply curious about this man who never showed his face. He seemed to be a natural mute—he had never spoken a word since arriving in the valley.
What was even stranger was the man’s astonishing stamina. He could stand motionless like this for an entire day without ever showing signs of fatigue. In his mind, Han Li had long since labeled him a “monster.”
He had tried to communicate with the man before, but the latter remained as unresponsive as a block of wood. No matter how eloquently Han Li spoke, he simply ignored him.
Han Li had to admit defeat—Dr. Mo had somehow trained a living, breathing person to be as flawless as a puppet.
Absolute obedience, incredible stamina, never speaking, utterly emotionless—though Han Li didn’t know how skilled the man was in martial arts, he was certain he wouldn’t be weak. This was his final assessment of the man.
Han Li knew that this person would likely become another one of Dr. Mo’s trump cards, but there was nothing he could do—he couldn’t find any weakness in him.
The only thing that puzzled Han Li was that, occasionally, when he looked at the man’s back from behind, he felt a sense of familiarity, as if he had seen a similar figure somewhere before. But no matter how hard he tried to recall, he couldn’t remember whose silhouette it resembled.
After watching for a while, Han Li sighed, closed his door, and went inside. He knew that without Dr. Mo’s orders, this man would not rest.
Feeling unsettled, he leaped onto his bed in one swift motion, lay down, placed his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes.
He replayed the few moves he had learned from Li Feiyu earlier that day in his mind, simulating them mentally. He broke down each move into segments, carefully analyzing and refining every detail.
This was a new ability Han Li had gained after reaching the fifth layer of the Eternal Spring Technique—photographic memory.
Thanks to this advantage, he could memorize any martial technique completely in his mind and replay it countless times for refinement and mastery. This was also why Li Feiyu thought he was a genius.
Two months earlier, relying on the effects of two sacred medicines, Han Li had forcefully broken through the fourth layer of the Eternal Spring Technique and reached the fifth layer.
The efficacy of “Yellow Dragon Pill” and “Golden Marrow Pill” far exceeded Han Li’s expectations. He had underestimated the immense power of those formulas—the pills he concocted were truly priceless treasures.
However, he had already used up nearly half of the two marrow-cleansing spiritual medicines. The remaining portion should barely be enough to help him reach the sixth layer of the Eternal Spring Technique. He couldn’t help but wonder what surprises the sixth layer would bring.
With only half a year left until Dr. Mo’s deadline, Han Li had learned some moves from Li Feiyu, but without the corresponding internal energy, they were merely superficial skills—flashy but impractical.
They might work against amateurs, but using them against Dr. Mo would be like offering meat to a dog—it would never come back.
The thought troubled and frustrated Han Li. The Eternal Spring Technique was excellent in every way except for one thing—it couldn’t be used in actual combat or fights.
Now, his only hope lay in the Blink Sword Art. He hoped it would bring him a pleasant surprise.
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