Doctor Mo’s face was expressionless, his eyes half-closed as he firmly grasped Han Li’s wrist. All his focus was directed on sensing the strength of the inner energy within Han Li’s body, and for a long while, he remained silent.
After the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, he finally let out a deep sigh, as if expelling all the frustration in his heart. His eyes suddenly snapped open, a sharp glint shooting from their murky depths, so intense it was hard to meet his gaze.
His face was dark and gloomy, clearly dissatisfied with Han Li, yet he refrained from any scolding. Instead, he coldly waved his hand, signaling for Han Li to follow him.
Han Li obediently trailed behind him. Although curious about the mysterious man nearby, he knew it wasn’t the time to ask questions casually.
Once inside the room, Doctor Mo wearily settled into an armchair, leaning back against it, half-sitting and half-lying down. The sharp light in his eyes had faded, replaced once again by the appearance of someone long afflicted by illness.
The mysterious man followed closely behind him, not leaving an inch of space, and after Doctor Mo sat down, he stood rigidly behind the chair, motionless.
Han Li knew Doctor Mo was in a foul mood and had no desire to provoke him further. Mimicking the mysterious man, he walked to the center of the room, faced Doctor Mo, bowed his head, and wisely remained still, waiting for the other to speak.
A long time passed with no one uttering a word. Growing restless, Han Li couldn’t resist the urge to sneak a glance at Doctor Mo.
“Want to look? Then look. Why sneak around?” Just as he raised his neck halfway, Doctor Mo’s cold, stern voice rang out.
Han Li’s body stiffened momentarily before he obediently lifted his head. His eyes swept over Doctor Mo’s face a few times before quickly darting away.
Though his expression remained unchanged, Han Li’s mind was in turmoil, waves of shock crashing within him.
Doctor Mo’s face had taken on a bizarre appearance. His somewhat ashen complexion was faintly shrouded by a layer of dark energy, which seemed almost alive, extending countless tiny tendrils that danced wildly across his face. What frightened Han Li even more was the drastic change in Doctor Mo’s usual stern demeanor—replaced now by a ruthless, decisive expression. He was staring at Han Li with malicious intent, a mocking smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Han Li sensed that something was wrong. A feeling of unease crept into his heart, and a dangerous atmosphere began to permeate the room.
Alert and cautious, he took half a step back, slipping his hand into his sleeve to grasp a hidden iron cylinder. His tense nerves relaxed slightly, but just then, a low, mocking voice reached his ears: “Think a little cleverness is enough to show off?”
Doctor Mo moved. In an eerie motion, he shifted from half-lying to standing upright. With a sinister chuckle, he swayed and appeared beside Han Li like a ghost, staring at him with a cold, mocking laugh.
Han Li’s face paled. Realizing the danger, he hurriedly tried to raise his arm, but a numbness spread through his body, leaving him paralyzed. Only then did he notice Doctor Mo’s finger retracting from a pressure point on his chest.
It had been incredibly fast—he hadn’t even sensed the attack.
“Master Mo, what are you doing? If I’ve done something wrong, please just say so. Why seal my acupoints?” Han Li could no longer maintain his usual composure and forced a smile as he spoke.
Doctor Mo remained silent, merely using one hand to lightly pound his own back and letting out a soft cough, feigning the appearance of a frail, sickly old man.
But Han Li had just witnessed his swift and fierce movements. How could he still see him as an ordinary, gravely ill elder? This act only made him more wary.
“Master Mo, someone of your status need not trouble yourself with a disciple like me. Please unseal my acupoints. Whatever punishment you deem fit, I will accept it.”
…
Han Li continued with several more flattering and appeasing words, but Doctor Mo paid him no mind. Instead, he reached into Han Li’s sleeve, retrieved the iron cylinder, and held it in his hand, watching Han Li’s performance with a look of ridicule and contempt.
Seeing this, Han Li’s heart sank. Any hope of persuading the other with words vanished completely.
It seemed Doctor Mo would not give him the slightest opportunity.
Gradually, Han Li fell silent. His expression grew calm, and he met Doctor Mo’s gaze with eyes devoid of emotion.
In that instant, everything in the room seemed to freeze. Silence fell, as quiet as the calm before a storm.
“Good! Good! Good!” Doctor Mo suddenly exclaimed three times in approval.
“Worthy of being the one I, Mo Juren, have chosen. To remain composed and unflinching in the face of danger—I haven’t wasted the resources I invested in you.” He began praising Han Li outright.
“What do you intend to do with me?” Han Li ignored Doctor Mo’s words and instead posed his own question.
“Heh. What do I intend to do with you?” Doctor Mo repeated the question noncommittally. “What happens to you depends entirely on your own actions.”
“What do you mean?” Han Li frowned, vaguely guessing some of the other’s intentions.
“Even if I don’t say it, someone as clever as you should have some idea, right?”
“I can only guess a small part. I still don’t understand the whole story—the causes and consequences.” Han Li didn’t deny it and admitted frankly.
“Good, that’s the right attitude. If you have questions, just ask me directly. Don’t keep them bottled up.” Doctor Mo smirked sinisterly, the dark energy on his face seeming to thicken, making his features even more menacing.
“I know you’ve always been wary of me and never truly saw me as your master. But that’s fine—I never saw you as my disciple either.” Doctor Mo let out a light humph.
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