Chapter 21: Painkiller

Senior Disciple Li’s eyelids trembled slightly, betraying the intense internal struggle raging within him.

After a moment, his tightly shut eyes snapped open, fixing a feverish gaze on the pill in Han Li’s hand.

Without another word, Han Li placed the pill into his mouth and watched as he dry-swallowed it with some effort. Only then did Han Li carefully remove the silver needles one by one from his body.

Once all the needles were withdrawn, the effects of the pill began to take hold. A few unnatural streaks of red flushed across Senior Disciple Li’s pale face, gradually spreading until his entire cheeks were blood-red. His body began to convulse again, his hands and feet trembling uncontrollably, and low, guttural moans escaped his lips.

It was clear he was trying his best to suppress any sign of weakness in front of Han Li, keeping his voice as low as possible. Yet, the inhuman agony eventually forced a strained roar from him.

His roars grew louder, and his convulsions more violent. It took a long while before his cries gradually subsided into silence. The color returned to his face, and his trembling ceased—it seemed he had endured the most excruciating phase.

Slowly, Senior Disciple Li sat upright, crossing his legs and closing his eyes once more as he began to meditate and regulate his breathing. Han Li found a clean rock nearby and sat down casually, observing him as he worked to recover his energy.

After the time it takes to finish a meal, Senior Disciple Li suddenly opened his eyes, snatched the long knife beside him, and leaped to his feet. With a swift motion, a flash of blade light gleamed, and the cold edge of the knife came to rest against Han Li’s neck.

“Give me one reason not to kill you!” Senior Disciple Li’s eyes glinted with a cold, murderous light.

“I just saved your life. Does that count as a reason?” Han Li’s expression remained unchanged, though a slight twitch at the corner of his eyebrow would have gone unnoticed without close observation.

Senior Disciple Li’s expression softened slightly, but his eyes remained fixed fiercely on Han Li.

“Even before saving you, I knew you might try to kill me to keep your secret. I just didn’t expect you to move so quickly.” Han Li finally offered a bitter smile, a hint of self-mockery coloring his features.

“Sigh. Even though I knew saving you would likely bring me trouble, as someone who has studied medicine, I couldn’t just stand by and watch you die.” Han Li let out a sigh.

Hearing this, Senior Disciple Li’s face showed a trace of embarrassment, and he slightly withdrew the blade from Han Li’s neck, though he didn’t put it away entirely.

Han Li breathed an inward sigh of relief, his tone growing calmer.

“You don’t need to worry about me revealing your secret. It’s clear at a glance that I’m not the talkative type. If you’re still uneasy, I can swear a blood oath. You can see I have no martial skills—if you find I’ve broken my oath, you can easily kill me.” Han Li coolly proposed.

“Swear it, then,” Senior Disciple Li replied bluntly.

Only then did Han Li fully relax. Although he had observed Senior Disciple Li’s demeanor earlier and concluded he wasn’t the type to repay kindness with cruelty, he couldn’t be entirely sure. If he had turned out to be a treacherous ingrate, Han Li would have had no choice but to use his only means of self-protection.

With that thought, Han Li subtly moved his fingers away from an iron cylinder hidden in his sleeve.

After Han Li solemnly swore the blood oath, Senior Disciple Li finally sheathed his knife.

Han Li touched his neck, where the sharp blade had left a shallow cut. It felt sticky, and he realized his back was damp with cold sweat.

“That was far too close! I really didn’t think this through. I must learn from this experience and never again do such a thankless, troublesome favor. Whether others live or die is their own business—why should I care?” Han Li thought with lingering fear.

“Unless there’s sufficient benefit and absolute certainty, I won’t recklessly save anyone again,” he vowed fiercely to himself.

Senior Disciple Li’s eyelids trembled faintly, betraying the intense internal struggle raging within him.

After a moment, his tightly shut eyes snapped open, fixing a feverish gaze on the pill in Han Li’s hand.

Without another word, Han Li placed the pill into his mouth, watching as he dry-swallowed it with some effort. Only then did Han Li begin carefully removing the silver needles embedded in his body.

As the last needle was withdrawn, the pill’s effects began to manifest. Unnatural crimson patches bloomed across Senior Disciple Li’s pale face, soon suffusing his entire countenance with a bloody hue. His body convulsed anew, limbs trembling as low, guttural moans escaped his lips.

Clearly trying to maintain dignity before Han Li, he struggled to suppress his cries, but the inhuman agony eventually tore a roar from his throat.

His shouts grew increasingly violent, his convulsions more severe. Only after a long while did his cries gradually subside into silence. Color returned to his face, his tremors ceased—he had survived the most excruciating phase.

Senior Disciple Li slowly sat upright, assuming a cross-legged meditation posture with closed eyes as he began regulating his breathing. Han Li found a clean rock nearby and sat casually, observing his recovery.

After mealtime’s duration, the meditating disciple suddenly opened his eyes, snatched up a long knife beside him, and sprang up. With a powerful swing, the gleaming blade came to rest against Han Li’s neck.

“Give me one reason not to kill you!” Senior Disciple Li’s eyes glinted with cold killing intent.

“I just saved your life—does that count?” Han Li’s expression remained unchanged, though careful observers might have noticed the slightest twitch of his eyebrows.

Senior Disciple Li’s expression softened marginally, but his fierce glare remained fixed on Han Li.

“Before saving you, I knew you might kill me to protect your secret,” Han Li finally said with a bitter smile, self-mockery coloring his features. “I just didn’t expect you to move so quickly.”

He sighed. “Even knowing saving you would bring me trouble, I’ve studied medicine—I couldn’t just watch you die.”

A flicker of shame crossed Senior Disciple Li’s face, and the blade shifted slightly away from Han Li’s throat, though not completely withdrawn.

Han Li secretly breathed easier, his tone growing steadier. “You needn’t worry about me revealing your secret. I’m clearly not the gossiping type. If you’re still concerned, I’ll swear a blood oath. You can see I have no martial skills—if I break my vow, you can easily eliminate me.”

“Swear it then,” Senior Disciple Li said bluntly.

Only then did Han Li fully relax. Though he had studied the man’s demeanor before treatment and believed him not to be ungrateful or cruel, he couldn’t be certain. Had he proven treacherous, Han Li would have been forced to use his only means of protection.

At this thought, Han Li subtly moved his fingers away from the iron cylinder concealed in his sleeve.

After Han Li solemnly swore the oath, Senior Disciple Li finally withdrew the blade and sheathed it.

Han Li touched his neck where the sharp edge had left a shallow cut, feeling the sticky blood. His back felt chilled—apparently he had broken out in cold sweat.

“That was too close!” he thought with lingering fear. “I didn’t plan carefully enough. I must learn from this—no more thankless tasks. Whether others live or die is their business, none of my concern.”

He fiercely resolved: “Without sufficient benefit and absolute certainty, I’ll never again save anyone.”

This first disastrous rescue attempt directly fostered his future habit of avoiding profitless endeavors,彻底抛弃了 his originally somewhat simple nature. While not becoming evil, he drifted far from honest kindness.

“You saved my life and promised to keep my secret,” said Senior Disciple Li, now fully recovered and having retrieved his belongings from the ground. “I, Li Feiyu, owe you a great debt. While I live, whatever you need, come find me. If it’s within my power, I’ll help.”

“I doubt I’ll need anything,” Han Li smiled slightly. “But you seem to have plenty of troubles yourself?”

“How did you know?” Li Feiyu started, surprised.

“Anyone could guess,” Han Li pointed out bluntly. “An ordinary guardian disciple, ranking above a crowd of hall masters, elders, even the sect leader’s beloved disciples—how could you have peaceful days?”

Li Feiyu’s face darkened, remaining silent for a long moment.

“Your affairs are none of my business, nor can I intervene,” Han Li continued. “But regarding the pain from your Marrow Extraction Pills, I can help reduce it somewhat.”

“Really?” Li Feiyu’s spirits lifted dramatically, gloom replaced by eager delight—evidently the pill’s agony tormented him greatly.

“Why would I lie?” Han Li rolled his eyes. He indeed had such a pain-reducing formula, originally developed during spare time for Zhang Tie—highly effective at dulling physical suffering.

“Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!” Li Feiyu rubbed his hands excitedly, gazing eagerly at Han Li.

“Why stare at me like that? I don’t carry the medicine now. I need to return to God’s Hand Valley to prepare it.”

Li Feiyu looked somewhat abashed—having just threatened Han Li with a blade, now asking for medicine.

“Wait at the valley entrance tomorrow noon. I’ll bring the medicine after preparing it,” Han Li said slowly. “With Dr. Mo away, I can’t allow outsiders into the valley freely.”

“Agreed! I’ll be punctual. Thank you, brother!” Li Feiyu hurriedly agreed, fearing Han Li might reconsider.

“I’m Han Li, Dr. Mo’s personal disciple. With your martial prowess, just call me Junior Disciple Han.” Hearing such intimate terms as “brother,” Han Li quickly offered his name to prevent even more embarrassing appellations.

“You saved my life and promised to keep my secret. I, Li Feiyu, owe you a great debt. As long as I live, if you ever need help with anything, come find me. If it’s within my power, I will assist you.” Senior Disciple Li had fully regained his composure. After gathering the miscellaneous items Han Li had searched and placed on the ground, he approached Han Li sincerely, offering his name and making his promise.

“I doubt I’ll have any need to trouble you, but it seems you have plenty of troubles yourself, don’t you?” Han Li smiled faintly and countered with a question.

“How did you know?” Li Feiyu was taken aback, clearly surprised.

“Anyone could guess. You’re an ordinary guardian disciple, yet you’ve surpassed a large number of hall masters, elders, and even the sect leader’s prized disciples. How could you possibly have a peaceful life?” Han Li pointed out sharply.

Li Feiyu’s face darkened, and he remained silent for a long moment.

“Your affairs are none of my business, and I can’t interfere even if I wanted to. However, I can help alleviate some of the pain caused by the Marrow Extraction Pill you’ve been taking.”

“Really?” Li Feiyu’s spirits lifted immediately, the gloom on his face vanishing without a trace, replaced by eager delight. It was evident the agony of the Marrow Extraction Pill had tormented him greatly.

“Why would I lie to you?” Han Li shot him a sidelong glance. He did, in fact, have a prescription to reduce pain—something he had developed during his free time, originally for Zhang Tie. It significantly dulled the perception of pain and was highly effective.

“That’s wonderful! Truly wonderful!” Li Feiyu rubbed his hands together excitedly, gazing at Han Li with anticipation.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I don’t have the medicine on me right now. I need to return to God Hand Valley to prepare it.”

Li Feiyu looked somewhat embarrassed upon hearing this. He had just threatened Han Li with a knife, and now he was asking him to concoct medicine for him.

“Come to the entrance of God Hand Valley at noon tomorrow. I’ll have the medicine ready by then and will bring it to you. Right now, Dr. Mo isn’t home, so I can’t allow outsiders to enter the valley freely,” Han Li said slowly.

“Alright, I’ll be there on time. Thank you, brother,” Li Feiyu quickly agreed, afraid Han Li might change his mind.

“My name is Han Li. I’m Dr. Mo’s personal disciple. Since your martial skills are so advanced, you can just call me Junior Disciple Han.” Hearing Li Feiyu use such an intimate term as “brother,” Han Li hurriedly offered his name to prevent him from using even more overly familiar address.