“Master! What’s happening?” The spirit of the artifact, who shared a mental connection with Han Li, immediately sensed his unusual state and couldn’t help but ask.
“Someone is approaching—one at Core Formation and another at Foundation Establishment. But they’ve stopped about ten miles away. The aura of the Foundation Establishment cultivator feels somewhat familiar, likely that Feng Yue fellow. This is rather odd.” Han Li stroked his chin, deep in thought.
“Should I go check as the artifact spirit?” Yin Yue hesitated for a moment before speaking.
“No need. Your injuries aren’t fully healed, and I can only exert Foundation Establishment-level cultivation right now. Let’s not stir up trouble. They’ll probably leave soon. I’ll just monitor them with my spiritual sense.” Han Li shook his head, seemingly detecting something.
Since Han Li had made his stance clear, Yin Yue naturally had no objections and simply acknowledged his words. Han Li then closed his eyes and remained seated in silence.
However, after the time it took to finish a meal, Han Li suddenly let out a soft exclamation, his face showing a flash of surprise. This time, Yin Yue wisely refrained from asking further questions. But Han Li’s brows furrowed tightly, his expression flickering between dark and light.
“Senior Dayan, if I recall correctly, you once mentioned that the baleful aura on me can only be dispelled by a few rare secret techniques, with Buddhist cultivation methods making up the majority. Is that true?”
“Indeed. Aside from Buddhist techniques, a few rare Confucian and Daoist methods might also work, but none are as effective as Buddhist ones,” Dayan Shenjun replied lazily.
“In that case, the most distinctive feature of Buddhist techniques is that their cultivation energy contains Buddhist power, and most manifest in seven-colored spiritual light. That’s also true, right?” Han Li pressed, his expression still uncertain.
“Correct. Why? Have you discovered something?” Dayan Shenjun sounded puzzled, his tone growing curious.
“Then this person might still be of some use. Perhaps this is an opportunity.” Han Li lowered his head and muttered to himself.
Dayan Shenjun, confused by the sudden line of questioning and receiving no further explanation, grew displeased. Just as he was about to press for details, Han Li seemed to have made up his mind. With a sudden stomp, he shot out from the boulder atop his artifact, transforming into a streak of azure light as he streaked toward a certain direction.
This abrupt action took both Yin Yue and Dayan Shenjun by surprise. Though baffled, they could only suppress their questions for now, seeing how urgent Han Li seemed.
In the blink of an eye, Han Li arrived at a small, rare grove in the grasslands—only about a mile in size, with sparse and not particularly tall trees. In the center of the grove, within a clearing about ten zhang wide, two figures stood.
One of them, a blue-robed man, lay face-down on the ground, motionless, with a patch of black blood staining his back. His condition was unclear, but a seven-colored barrier shimmered around him, protecting his body. Nearby, an eagle-eyed elder in purple robes was controlling a fiery-red flying sword, sending slashes of sword shadows crashing against the barrier.
Though the seven-colored barrier was extraordinary, without its master’s control, it had already begun to waver, its light flickering wildly.
Han Li’s sudden and unconcealed appearance naturally alarmed the eagle-eyed elder below.
The elder was startled at first, but upon scanning Han Li with his spiritual sense and detecting only Foundation Establishment-level cultivation, he relaxed. Instead, a murderous intent arose in his heart. With a flick of his wrist, a black streak shot out—a three-edged spike wrapped in dark energy, moving at incredible speed.
Han Li snorted coldly. Without a word, he touched the top of his head, and a dark green cloud shot out with a *whoosh*, instantly transforming into a several-foot-long emerald hand that grabbed at the black streak.
The eagle-eyed elder was stunned. Before he could comprehend what was happening, a muffled *thud* sounded—the three-edged spike was effortlessly snatched away like a piece of straw, severing his connection to it instantly. The emerald hand then continued its descent toward him without pause.
Terrified, the elder frantically formed hand seals, trying to recall his red flying sword for defense. But the dark green hand vanished mid-flight, only to reappear a zhang above him in the next instant, morphing into a massive fist that smashed down with brutal force.
“Ah!” The purple-robed elder only had time to scream before being crushed into pulp.
The dark green fist then reverted to a hand, which made a grasping motion toward the elder’s remains. A jade-green orb the size of an egg flew into its grasp.
The hand swiftly returned to Han Li, circling once before transforming into a dark green infant perched on his shoulder. The infant held the black three-edged spike in one hand and the jade-green orb in the other, grinning mischievously.
Han Li’s brow twitched slightly.
During the siege by the Utara, no matter how dire the situation, he had refrained from using his second Nascent Soul, saving it as a trump card for escape. But now, testing its power, he found it far exceeded his expectations. With just a minor transformation, it had effortlessly slain a Core Formation cultivator. It seemed ordinary Core Formation cultivators were no match for his second Nascent Soul.
Lost in thought, Han Li silently descended toward the seven-colored barrier.
The red flying sword, now that its master’s body had been destroyed and his soul captured, lay motionless nearby, its spiritual light dim.
Ignoring the sword, Han Li approached the barrier and examined it closely. It was now clear that the barrier emanated from a pale blue jade pendant floating within it.
The pendant hovered a few feet above the blue-robed man, radiating seven-colored light and occasionally displaying strange Buddhist scriptures within its glow. It was the same pendant Han Li had once shown Yin Yue, engraved with the characters “Ning Zhong Feng.”
After studying it for a moment, Han Li transmitted his voice: “Well, Senior? This is a Buddhist artifact, isn’t it?”
“Judging by the materials and crafting method, it’s hardly a Buddhist treasure, but it has indeed been imbued with Buddhist restrictions by a high monk. Otherwise, a mere top-grade artifact wouldn’t be so sentient or withstand a Core Formation treasure’s attacks for so long. It seems this Feng family has ties to the Buddhist sects,” Dayan Shenjun replied, his tone indifferent.
Hearing this confirmation, Han Li felt a surge of relief—his intervention hadn’t been in vain. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and placed a palm against the barrier. A thin layer of blue flames coated his hand.
At his current cultivation level, he couldn’t wield much of the Dry Blue Ice Flame, and this was his limit. Yet even this was enough. The seven-colored barrier couldn’t withstand the extreme cold and burst like a bubble with a *pop*, vanishing instantly.
Han Li approached the blue-robed man and frowned at the black bloodstain on his back.
Only now did he sense the man’s chaotic, feeble aura, mixed with a faint aura of death—a clear sign of impending demise.
Silently, Han Li flicked a spell onto the man, then exhaled a stream of azure mist that enveloped him like a radiant haze. With a gentle wave of his sleeve, a gust of wind flipped the man onto his back.
Han Li took one look and gasped.
It was indeed Feng Yue, but his face had turned pitch-black, his lips a dark, purplish hue—a horrifying sight.
Han Li’s expression darkened. After a brief pause, he enveloped Feng Yue with his spiritual sense, his eyes flashing blue as he activated the Clear Sight Spirit Eyes.
Given the severity of the poison, Feng Yue should have died instantly, yet he still clung to life. This was peculiar, and Han Li wasn’t about to overlook it.
Moments later, Han Li found what he was looking for. He grabbed Feng Yue’s collar and tore it open, revealing a silver-white key hanging from a chain on his chest.
The key pulsed with milky-white spiritual light, continuously dispersing the poison around Feng Yue’s chest, though the rest of his body remained blackened.
Han Li’s eyes flickered. He seized Feng Yue’s arm and channeled azure spiritual energy into him, attempting to expel the black poison. But moments later, the azure energy turned black and began creeping back toward Han Li’s hand.
“Bitter Poison!” Han Li exclaimed, jerking his hand away and severing the connection. His face paled.
“Oh? The Bitter Poison, one of the Ten Absolute Toxins? Kid Han, you’re wasting your time. This man is beyond saving,” Dayan Shenjun chuckled, sounding almost gleeful.
Han Li rolled his eyes and retorted, “Hmph! Maybe I can’t fully cure him, but I can wake him up temporarily—even extend his life by ten days or half a month. It’s just a matter of expending valuable spiritual medicine. The question is whether he’s worth it.”
With that, Han Li stood up slowly, deep in thought.
“Master, you could wake him first, ask a few questions, and then decide,” Yin Yue suggested lightly.
“True. I won’t rest easy until I know his connection to the Great Jin Buddhist sects.” Han Li patted his storage pouch, retrieving a small white vial.
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