Knowing that Han Li was injured, Zhang Tie personally brought the meal to his room, intending to eat with him.
Watching Zhang Tie clumsily move chairs and rearrange tables in his room, bustling about for quite a while before finally setting everything up, Han Li couldn’t help but feel amused, though more than that, he was genuinely touched.
Once the two settled at the table, they began chatting about trivial matters within the sect while stuffing food into their mouths, occasionally exchanging insights about their respective training methods.
The moment Zhang Tie brought up Han Li’s “Elephant Armor Technique,” he rolled his eyes in frustration.
Zhang Tie had developed something of a phobia toward the “Elephant Armor Technique.” Even though he had only practiced the first layer, he was already suffering immensely under Dr. Mo’s harsh training. Not only did he have to soak in foul-smelling medicinal baths at fixed times, but he also endured frequent beatings with a wooden stick, all under the pretext of “tempering his bones and muscles.”
These brutal training methods had left him covered in bruises and swelling for a time, making it impossible for him to sleep peacefully at night. The slightest touch against his wooden bed would send sharp pains shooting through his body, leaving him gritting his teeth in agony.
For him, it was nothing short of a nightmare.
As for the unnamed mantra Han Li practiced, Zhang Tie couldn’t help but feel envious. He thought that all Han Li had to do was sit cross-legged like a monk and chant scriptures daily. Hearing this, Han Li could only remain silent.
Han Li could understand Zhang Tie’s fear of the higher layers of the “Elephant Armor Technique.” Anyone who knew they would have to endure torments several times worse than before would feel restless and uneasy.
The fact that Zhang Tie had persisted without giving up already earned Han Li’s deep admiration.
If it were him, he would never practice such a self-torturing martial art, even if it could make him a top-tier expert overnight.
As they chatted, they finished their dinner. Zhang Tie quickly cleared the dishes, then stood up to take his leave, advising Han Li to rest early to allow his foot injury to heal.
Han Li stood at the door, watching Zhang Tie leave before hurriedly returning to his room. He closed the doors and windows tightly, leaving only a small skylight open for ventilation. Then, he took out the bottle from his pouch and began examining it again.
After all, Han Li was just a ten-year-old child. After fiddling with it for a while without making any progress, he grew bored. Coupled with the fatigue from his injury, he soon found himself leaning against the bed with the bottle in hand, drifting into a deep sleep.
Sometime later, while sleeping soundly, Han Li suddenly felt an icy sensation spreading from one of his hands.
Shivering, he forced his heavy eyelids open and drowsily looked toward the hand causing the strange sensation.
In an instant, he sat up straight, his mouth agape, unaware of the drool trickling from the corner of his lips. All sleepiness vanished as he was completely stunned by the scene before him.
Strands of visible white light descended through the only open skylight in the room, converging onto the bottle in his hand. They formed tiny, rice-sized white specks, enveloping the entire bottle in a thin layer of soft white glow.
The light was very gentle, not at all dazzling, and the icy sensation emanated from this faint white radiance.
Han Li swallowed a mouthful of chilled saliva and suddenly snapped awake. He flung the bottle away as if it were scalding hot and scrambled to the other side of the room. After cautiously observing for a while and confirming there was no danger, he carefully approached it again.
The bottle, surrounded by the white light, appeared extraordinarily beautiful and alluring, with an air of mystery.
Hesitating for a moment, Han Li gently poked the bottle with his finger. Seeing no reaction, he cautiously picked it up again and placed it on the table. He then leaned in closely, excitedly observing this never-before-seen phenomenon.
Han Li stared intently at the bottle for over fifteen minutes without blinking, finally noticing a peculiar detail.
The bottle was continuously absorbing the floating white specks around it through its surface. No, it wasn’t absorption—rather, the specks were frantically squeezing into the bottle, scrambling over each other as if they were alive.
Curious, Han Li lightly touched one of the specks with his fingertip.
It felt cool! But aside from that, there was nothing else unusual.
He looked up and saw strands of white light still pouring down through the skylight without any sign of stopping.
Glancing at the sealed doors and windows, then at the open skylight above, an idea struck him.
He gently pushed the door open and peeked outside.
Fortunately, it was already late at night. Aside from the occasional chirping of autumn insects, everything was quiet, with no one in sight.
Pulling his head back inside, Han Li grabbed the small bottle, stuffed it into his leather pouch, and dashed outside. He ran until he reached a secluded, open area before finally stopping.
After scanning his surroundings to ensure no one else was around, he carefully took out the bottle again and gently placed it on the ground.
The light specks that had been near the bottle had vanished without a trace after it was placed in the pouch, but Han Li wasn’t worried.
Sure enough, after a short while, strands of light—far more numerous than indoors—converged from all directions. Countless white specks densely gathered around the small bottle, forming a large, basin-sized sphere of light.
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