Four Years Later

Doctor Mo was very pleased that Han Li could devote all his time to cultivation.

But he still thought Han Li's progress in cultivating the nameless mnemonic was too slow.

In recent years, Doctor Mo's illness seemed to have grown worse. He coughed more frequently each day, and his coughing fits lasted longer.

As his health deteriorated, Doctor Mo seemed to grow even more concerned about Han Li's cultivation progress. The urgency in his heart could be heard in his frequent reminders.

Doctor Mo must have placed great importance on Han Li. Not only did he pay him far more silver than ordinary disciples, as agreed, but the way he usually looked at him was also very peculiar, as though he were gazing at an exceedingly rare treasure he cherished dearly.

But Han Li, who had cultivated the mnemonic to the third layer, had developed very keen senses. By chance, he noticed that behind those looks of affectionate concern, there was occasionally a trace of greed and longing that made him uneasy.

Those expressions made Han Li's skin crawl. He always felt that when Doctor Mo wore them, he was looking at him not as a living person, but as an object.

This puzzled him. Did he have anything that Doctor Mo could possibly want?

Of course not, he answered himself with certainty.

Sometimes Han Li even thought that his cultivation had made him a little oversensitive, and that silently grumbling about Doctor Mo behind his back was rather ungrateful.

Yet, for reasons he did not understand himself, in the most hidden depths of his heart, he still harbored a measure of wariness toward Doctor Mo. And as time passed, that wariness only grew stronger.

Now a major problem confronted Han Li: he had reached a bottleneck in his cultivation. Worse still, after all the cultivation he had done and medicine he had taken over the past few years, Doctor Mo's precious medicines had been completely exhausted.

Clearly, Han Li was no heaven-sent genius. Without the aid of medicine, his cultivation progress had ground to a complete halt.

This made Han Li feel ashamed when facing Doctor Mo.

Doctor Mo had devoted nearly all his efforts and belongings to him, creating the best possible conditions for his cultivation, yet Han Li could not meet his demands.

Han Li found it hard to face Doctor Mo and his ever-eager inquiries.

Strangely, for some reason, Doctor Mo, despite his great martial prowess, could not discern the details of Han Li's cultivation. He could only learn a little about his progress by taking his pulse, so all this time he had remained unaware of the difficulty Han Li faced.

Not long ago, the uneasy Han Li had finally spoken frankly to Doctor Mo about his cultivation.

When Doctor Mo heard that Han Li had made no progress in the mnemonic for a year, his sallow complexion turned somewhat pale, and his normally expressionless face grew even more unsightly.

Doctor Mo did not blame him. He merely told him that he would be going down the mountain for a while to find some medicinal herbs, and that Han Li should make the most of his time training on the mountain and not slacken in cultivating the mnemonic.

Two days later, Doctor Mo took his luggage and herb-gathering tools and left the Seven Mysteries Sect alone.

After he left, Han Li was the only person remaining in Divine Hand Valley.

His other senior brother and good friend, Zhang Tie, had suddenly vanished two years ago, after mastering the third layer of the Elephant Armor Technique. He had left only a farewell letter saying that he was going to make his way in the jianghu, causing a great uproar throughout the Seven Mysteries Sect. Han Li later heard that Doctor Mo had stepped forward to plead on his behalf, and only then were his recommender and relatives spared any repercussions. It had all seemed too sudden to Han Li, and he had been sad for several days. Thinking about it afterward, he had a vague feeling that something was not right, but he was young and his words carried little weight, and no one questioned him, so the matter came to nothing. Later, Han Li wondered if Zhang Tie had been afraid of cultivating the fourth layer of the Elephant Armor Technique and had secretly slipped away unnoticed.

After cultivating in the valley for several days without seeing any results, Han Li, being a boy at heart, left Divine Hand Valley and began wandering around Rosy Cloud Mountain.

Walking along mountain paths that were familiar yet somewhat strange, Han Li felt a slight stirring of emotion.

Over the past few years, Han Li had been like a prisoner for the sake of his training, never once leaving the little valley.

Presumably, his fellow disciples outside had long since forgotten all about him.

On the way, he ran into some disciples patrolling the mountain. Seeing that he wore the sect's disciple robes but had an unfamiliar face, they all approached him warily and questioned him. It took a great deal of explaining before he could get away.

To avoid needless trouble, Han Li simply chose narrow, winding paths and headed for secluded places, staying away from crowded spots where tongues might wag.

Sure enough, there were no more annoying interrogations along the way, and he wandered farther and farther at his leisure.

As he gazed at the beautiful scenery, so different from that in the valley, and listened to the chirping of all kinds of little birds, Han Li cast all his troubles to the back of his mind.

Suddenly, from beneath a rather well-hidden cliff, came the faint sounds of weapons clashing and a crowd shouting curses and cheering.

So remote a place! So many people gathered together! And such a fierce commotion!

Han Li's curiosity was aroused. No longer afraid of being questioned, he followed the sounds of fighting to the vicinity of the cliff.

What a grand scene! He could not help staring in surprise.

Beneath the cliff, completely screened by trees, more than a hundred people had gathered. The rather small space was packed full, and even in several of the larger trees nearby, a few people stood on branches, watching from above.

Inside the circle formed by the crowd, two groups confronted each other with open hostility.

The group on the left had the most people, eleven or twelve, while the smaller group on the right still had six or seven.

Han Li noticed that all of them, whether spectators or people standing in the arena, were about his age and looked to be no more than teenagers.

A faint smile appeared on Han Li's face. What a coincidence!

Among all those people, he easily recognized several familiar old faces.

"Wan Jinbao, Zhang Dalu, Ma Yun, Sun Lisong... Huh! Wang Dapang is even fatter than before. As expected of someone whose family works as cooks-he eats well and is well looked after! This person is... Liu Tietou. Tsk, tsk! That dark little lump of coal from before has actually turned into a pretty boy!" Han Li had also climbed a tree and was calling the roll of the familiar faces below.