Han Li felt the giant's cold skin beneath his fingers and stared into his dull, lifeless eyes, his mind racing through the likely sequence of events that had befallen Zhang Tie.
Nine times out of ten, Doctor Mo must have collaborated with Yu Zitong to abduct Zhang Tie — whose Elephant Armor Technique had already achieved some minor success — and then fabricated the illusion of his departure, fooling the many eyes and ears of the Seven Mysteries Sect. Afterward, they had secretly used some form of magical art to strip Zhang Tie of his soul entirely, then transformed his body into this bizarre state, eerily similar to what a perfected Elephant Armor Technique might look like.
Han Li's conjecture was remarkably accurate. The truth was not far off at all.
Back then, Doctor Mo had been struck by a sudden inspiration. He intended to combine the Elephant Armor Technique with the Corpse Refining Technique that Yu Zitong had provided, hoping to create a batch of powerful Corpse Persons who would obey his every command and sweep through the jianghu. However, in the limited time he had, he managed to produce only this one giant, whom he treasured above all else. On a daily basis, the giant was hidden in a secret location somewhere at the foot of the mountain, and it was only on his last return that Doctor Mo had brought him along.
As for Yu Zitong, he had no interest whatsoever in such a half-baked Corpse Person — he had openly scoffed at it. While his physical body had still been intact, he had possessed far too many methods to subdue an incomplete Corpse Person of this kind. Moreover, such a creation paled in comparison to the advanced Iron-Armored Corpses of true Cultivators. It could only flex its muscles among mortals. Its sole advantage lay in the simplicity of its materials and the ease of its refinement — anyone possessing even a modicum of Magical Power could produce one.
After a long while, Han Li suddenly withdrew the hand he had placed on the giant's face and shifted his gaze uneasily away from him. His eyes fixed on the ruined stone door, and he fell into a vacant stare.
In that instant, he felt his heart go cold — not from grief over Zhang Tie's miserable fate, but from a growing unease at his own cold-blooded indifference.
He had imagined that upon learning his friend's tragic end, he would raise his head in fury and scream the names "Mo Juren" and "Yu Zitong," his voice thick with hatred and rage.
Yet in reality, apart from a faint twinge of sorrow, he had felt no great surge of emotion or anger. It was as though the person who had met such a fate was not his old friend "Zhang Tie" at all, but some stranger he had never known.
Was it because he understood that the Zhang Tie standing before him was merely an empty shell, no longer the real person? Or had his heart already turned utterly ruthless and callous?
This display of selfish indifference frightened even Han Li himself. Only now did he realize that, at some point he could not pinpoint, he had become a stranger to himself.
At last, Han Li snapped out of his daze. He regarded the giant with a complicated expression, uncertain how to address "him."
Remembering Doctor Mo's words — "the soul is lost," "a walking corpse" — Han Li lifted his face toward the sky and spoke softly:
"Brother Zhang, I expect you have already been reincarnated by now. The body you left behind serves no further purpose, so I ask to borrow it for my use. I will treat it with the utmost care, and I hope you will not hold it against me."
Having uttered this prayer-like declaration, Han Li felt somewhat comforted — as though he had hypnotized himself into calm — and turned to the giant once more:
"You are the shell that Brother Zhang left behind, with no soul of your own. Henceforth, I shall call you 'Qu Hun.' I hope that in the days to come, you will lend me your strength."
Upon hearing Han Li's words, the giant stood rooted to the spot, motionless. Beyond the look of docile submission he perpetually wore, there was not the slightest reaction. It seemed he truly possessed no independent consciousness and could only passively receive commands.
"I'm actually having a conversation with an unconscious body. How ridiculous." Han Li shook his head with a self-deprecating smile, then strode toward the stone hut with an easy gait.
"Qu Hun, follow me."
Han Li had fully recovered from his low spirits. His expression was back to normal, as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred at all. It seemed that he had indeed become — just as he himself had recognized — exceptionally ruthless and rational, no longer so easily troubled by emotion.
Whether this astonishing transformation would prove a blessing or a curse for Han Li, who was about to embark upon the path of a Cultivator, remained to be seen.
In the hours that followed, Han Li threw himself into the task of tying up all the loose ends, working tirelessly for a good long while.
He buried Doctor Mo's corpse beneath a large tree, destroyed and disposed of every remaining item inside the stone hut, and even commanded Qu Hun to demolish the structure entirely, smashing it into a jumbled pile of rubble so that nothing of its original form remained. Only then was he satisfied enough to stop.
By the time this ordeal was complete, the sky had turned to dusk, and the sun was already sinking below the horizon.
Han Li stood before what had once been the stone hut — now nothing more than a heap of broken stone — and cast his gaze in every direction. Finding nothing overlooked, he gave a pleased nod.
"Qu Hun, let's go."
"Tomorrow there's still a mountain of things to take care of. It's a shame you have no consciousness and can't speak. If I had someone to discuss things with, I think I'd feel a great deal more at ease."
Under the fiery red glow of the setting sun, Han Li's elongated shadow stretched out behind him as he muttered ceaselessly to the giant now named Qu Hun. He seemed to have finally found a listener to whom he could pour out his heart — one who would never complain in return. In that moment, there was no trace of coldness or cruelty about him; he looked for all the world like any ordinary neighborhood boy.
After settling Qu Hun into place, Han Li returned to his own quarters. Inside, he moved about like a stranger who had been away for years, running his hands over the tables, chairs, and benches — touching here, looking there — mumbling to himself all the while:
"This day felt so impossibly long. It seems longer than the ten-some years I've lived before it put together."
Then, with a sudden lurch, he collapsed face-first onto his bed and plunged straight into deep sleep.
He was exhausted — utterly spent, both in mind and body.
"But being alive to come back… that really is something," he murmured with a faint smile at the corner of his mouth, his last conscious thought before sleep claimed him.
(End of Chapter)