He had nothing important to do at the moment. The only reason he had been running to
This "Elephant Armor Technique" was no ordinary thing for an ordinary person to endure. Just the first layer alone subjected one to such agonizing torture—one could only imagine that the later layers would literally peel off several layers of skin.
"Zhang Tie is probably already regretting it by now, isn't he? The ruthlessness of this 'Elephant Armor Technique' goes far beyond what any of us little brats could have imagined." Han Li walked along, idly kicking fallen leaves and twigs off the path as he mused.
"In a little while, the two of us can go together and plead with Doctor Mo—see if Zhang Tie can switch to some other martial art, so he doesn't have to suffer like this." Han Li felt a small lift of spirits at the thought that he had found a way out of his friend's current misery.
He raised his head and looked at the trees lining both sides of the road. The season had reached late autumn, and all the branches were bare. A thick layer of fallen leaves and dry twigs carpeted the path, and walking on it was soft and comfortable.
Then, from a mountain peak not far away, came the faint clashing of weapons, punctuated now and then by a loud cheer.
At the sound of this, Han Li glanced once more toward the peak, and his already somewhat improved mood soured again.
It was the senior disciples of the Hundred Forging Hall conducting weapon combat training for the newly admitted juniors.
Every time Han Li saw fellow disciples gathering for a real-blade, real-spear training session, he felt a pang of envy. He longed to pick up a real sword or spear and swing it around to his heart's content. Unfortunately, for reasons he could never understand, the moment he had formally become Doctor Mo's disciple, the doctor had forbidden him from so much as touching those weapons and barred him from learning any other martial arts from the other instructors, saying it would interfere with his progress on the cultivation formula.
So Han Li could only watch with dry eyes, occasionally borrowing a weapon or two in private from a few fellow disciples he was on good terms with, and getting in a few rounds to satisfy his craving.
Really—what was so great about the formula he was cultivating? Up to now, he still couldn't see what use it had. All the other disciples who had entered at the same time were growing more powerful by the day, their martial arts advancing by leaps and bounds, while he remained stuck in place, with no discernible improvement at all.
Even Zhang Tie, who had been training in the "Elephant Armor Technique" for only two months, had already developed tough, thick skin and could take a beating far better than before, with much greater strength to boot.
But if Doctor Mo hadn't taken him as a disciple, he probably wouldn't have passed the provisional disciple test two months ago, let alone stayed on the mountain and been able to send that much money home.
If he couldn't learn other arts, then so be it!
Han Li grumbled inwardly while simultaneously trying to console himself.
He withdrew his gaze from the distance, still muttering to himself, but his focus grew even more scattered. His vacant eyes drifted over both sides of the path—he didn't even know what he was looking at.
Suddenly, Han Li sucked in a sharp breath. His expression turned strange, and then his mouth nearly stretched all the way to his ears. He squatted down reflexively, clamping both hands over his right big toe. Then, writhing in pain, he half-collapsed onto the grass. The sudden, searing agony struck him down like a blow, and his face went pale. A piercing, drilling pain throbbed from his big toe without pause.
It seemed he had accidentally kicked a very hard stone buried under the pile of leaves.
Han Li hunched over, cradling his ankle with both hands. Instinctively, through the cloth shoes still on his foot, he blew hard on his injured toe with his mouth, while secretly worrying whether the injury was serious—whether his toe would bruise and swell up right away, making it hard to walk normally.
After a long while, Han Li finally recovered from the worst of the pain. He lifted his head and scanned the leaf litter around his feet, searching for the culprit responsible for his suffering.
The fallen leaves scattered on the ground all had the same monotonous color—a dull yellow—and he simply couldn't pick out what he was looking for from that chaotic mess.
Han Li furrowed his brow, groped blindly on the ground a few times, and picked up a fairly thick, long branch. Leaning on it, he gingerly rose to his feet on his heels.
Then, not quite ready to give up, he used the branch to rummage vigorously through the thick piles of leaves around him.
Huh! A fist-sized object was hooked out by the branch.
Han Li examined it carefully. The thing responsible for his valiant injury was a small round bottle with a slender neck. Its surface was caked with mud, turned entirely an earthy gray, with not a hint of its original color showing through.
He had initially assumed it was a small porcelain bottle, but when he picked it up, the weight was all wrong—heavy, very heavy.
Made of metal, then? No wonder a thing this small could hurt his foot so badly—though a metal bottle was a rare find indeed.
Han Li's interest in the little bottle was now piqued, and for the moment he forgot all about the pain in his foot.
He rubbed the mud off the neck with his fingers, and the bottle's original color emerged—a beautiful, luminous green. Delicate dark-green leaf patterns adorned its surface, and a tiny stopper sealed the mouth tightly.
Could there be something inside? He held the bottle up to his ear and gave it a gentle shake, but felt nothing sloshing around inside.
He gripped the stopper and tried to twist it open. It wouldn't budge.
Han Li's curiosity only grew, and he was about to take further action when a jolt of searing pain shot up from his foot.
Damn! How could he have forgotten—he was still nursing the unfortunate aftereffects of that intimate encounter between his toe and this object.
Injured as he was, there was no way he was making it to Zhang Tie's place. He would head back to his quarters first, apply some medicinal salve, and then take his time figuring out this little bottle he had stumbled upon.
With that, and to keep anyone from seeing the muddy object, Han Li tucked the bottle into his pocket without worrying about how dirty it was. He turned around and limped back the way he had come.
(End of chapter)