Han Li watched Li Feiyu's retreating figure gradually fade into the distance, standing quietly in place without a word.
They had agreed he would come back the next day at noon to collect his medicine, and then Li Feiyu had taken his leave, saying he needed to go back and recuperate further.
For the entire time they had spent together, Han Li had never once asked Li Feiyu the reason he took this secret drug. He knew that even if he asked, it wouldn't change what had already happened.
Since Li Feiyu was willing to sacrifice everything in his future in exchange for the present glory and splendor of being "Senior Brother Li," it meant he must have compelling reasons that left him no choice. No one willingly chooses death—even a slow, costly form of suicide is not something anyone would embrace voluntarily. If Han Li insisted on prying out those reasons, he would only be forcing the man to tear open a nearly healed wound until it bled again.
It was clear that Han Li had done the right thing. Before departing, when Li Feiyu saw that he hadn't pressed him about the reasons for taking the Marrow Extraction Pill, he was visibly grateful for his thoughtfulness. He didn't say it aloud, but Han Li knew he now owed him yet another favor—not a small one, either.
Han Li intended to honor their agreement. Not only would he keep Li Feiyu's secret, he had already decided that the moment he returned to the valley, he would prepare a secret medicine to help alleviate his pain.
His reasoning was straightforward: since the man wasn't a petty villain and hadn't truly tried to kill him, then he should make Li Feiyu owe him an even bigger favor—one that would make it hard for him to refuse future requests.
Li Feiyu's martial skills would only grow stronger over the next few years, and the more powerful the man became, the greater the chance he could be of help. Even if Han Li didn't need his assistance for the next several years, that was fine. Doing a small favor for someone who wasn't truly a bad person was, in its own way, a pleasant thing for both mind and body. Li Feiyu might not necessarily be a good man, but at the very least, after today's events, he posed no threat to Han Li.
Han Li turned everything over in his mind once more, checking for any oversights. Only when he was satisfied that nothing had been missed did he amble back to Divine Hand Valley.
Shortly after returning to the valley at a leisurely pace, Han Li set about preparing the secret medicine Li Feiyu needed. This pain-dulling drug wasn't difficult to compound—all the required herbs could be found in the valley's medicinal garden. The process was merely somewhat tedious, requiring care and attention.
After an afternoon of busy work, Han Li had prepared enough finished medicine to last Li Feiyu a full year. It wasn't that he couldn't have made more; he simply wanted Li Feiyu to come collect the medicine each year, so the man wouldn't gradually forget the favor he owed.
As evening fell, Han Li did something uncharacteristic—he sat down in a chair outside his door, gazed up at the pitch-black sky, watched the bright moon, and fell deep into thought.
He was thinking of his family again.
It had been over four years since he'd left his parents. Ever since coming up the mountain, he had spent nearly every day bitterly cultivating the secret techniques, leaving him no time to think of home. He'd never gone back down the mountain even once. He had only arranged for most of his monthly silver allowance to be sent home, and each year he received just a single letter—written on his parents' behalf by Uncle Zhang—reassuring him that all was well. The letters contained very little beyond that. He learned that the family's living conditions had improved considerably, that his eldest brother had married and established himself, and that his second brother had found a bride, with the wedding likely to take place the following year. All of these changes had come about because of the money Han Li sent home. Yet from the tone of those few letters, Han Li had sensitively detected that his family's attitude toward him was growing increasingly polite—polite to the point of treating him almost like a stranger. At first, this realization had filled him with fear, leaving him uncertain how to respond. But as time passed, for reasons he couldn't explain, that fear gradually faded into something flat and distant, and the images of his family members in his mind grew hazier with each passing day.
It was only on evenings like this, when something stirred his emotions by association, that he would think of his family once more—recalling the warmth of home, a feeling that was now so hard to come by. This sensation, rare and precious, was something Han Li found deeply comforting. He savored it slowly, bit by bit, letting the taste linger.
He placed his hand over his chest, his fingers stroking through the fabric of his shirt to the small leather pouch that held the Peace Talisman.
In the past, just rubbing it a few times would bring a faint sense of contentment to his heart. But tonight, something was different. After touching it, his mind grew even more restless, unable to settle.
A nameless sense of gloom had taken root in Han Li's chest. He couldn't control his emotions, and something felt wrong throughout his body. His blood and vital energy began to churn, and the strange energy he had cultivated through his training stirred restlessly within him.
"Qi deviation"—that terrifying term suddenly flashed through his mind. Han Li stood up, took a deep breath, and forced himself to calm down. Doctor Mo was absent, so he had to handle this crisis on his own.
How could he be suffering qi deviation without any apparent cause? Han Li found it puzzling. Now wasn't the time to dig into the root of the problem, but finding the trigger was the most practical way to deal with it thoroughly.
He raised his head and scanned his surroundings, but found nothing that stood out.
He stroked his chin with his right hand, and his elbow bumped against something bulky. His eyes instinctively fell on it.
"Small leather pouch"... "Peace Talisman"—the name surfaced in his mind immediately.
"Could this thing really be causing such serious trouble?" Han Li couldn't be certain, but he could afford no more hesitation. His internal condition was worsening by the moment, and he could lose control at any time.
Without hesitation, he grabbed the leather pouch and yanked it off his neck, hurling it as far as he could.
"No—this feels even worse. The churning is even more violent."
Han Li suppressed the turmoil inside him once more through sheer willpower, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the small leather pouch as he tried desperately to figure out what was making things worse.