Han Li stared at Li Feiyu's face, which had taken on a certain domineering air, and said nothing, unsure of what to say.
Suddenly, the imposing aura around Li Feiyu collapsed, and he reverted to his usual cheerful demeanor. He winked at Han Li and said loudly with a laugh:
"How was that? My presence just now was pretty impressive, wasn't it? Full of commanding authority, the very image of a great warlord — enough to make you admire me to the depths of your soul and swear your loyalty on the spot."
Han Li didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this. He'd been somewhat moved by the first part of what Li Feiyu said, but the latter half immediately shattered the image and brought him right back to his usual self.
Han Li glared at him fiercely for a while and said through gritted teeth, "Warlord? I think you look more like a bear!"
Li Feiyu burst into hearty laughter, utterly carefree, seeming quite pleased with himself for having momentarily stunned Han Li.
Han Li, however, gradually calmed down. Amid the other's laughter, he said lightly:
"I've warned you before, and you know your situation full well. So let me ask you seriously one more time — if you disperse your cultivation, I can extend your life by many more years. That way, you could spend a long time together with Miss Zhang. Won't you reconsider?"
Li Feiyu's laughter stopped abruptly. His face darkened, and several sharp glints shot from his eyes as he stared straight at Han Li. He said nothing in response.
But Han Li's expression remained perfectly calm, showing no unusual emotion at all, returning the gaze with clear, steady eyes.
A full cup of tea's time passed before Li Feiyu finally withdrew the sharp light from his eyes, and his face softened a little.
"Han Li, you know perfectly well that I would never consider voluntarily dispersing my cultivation. I know you mean well for me, but please don't bring it up again, all right?" He forced a smile, and there was a hint of pleading in his voice.
"Besides, do you really think that if I became some helpless nobody who couldn't even bind a chicken, Miss Zhang would still be interested in me?" There was a note of self-mockery in these words from Li Feiyu.
Han Li fell silent. He turned his head to the side and looked down the small path in the direction Li Feiyu had come from. After watching quietly for a moment, he said in a low voice:
"Since you've made up your mind, I won't try to persuade you anymore. Go on back now. I hope things truly work out between you and Miss Zhang Xiuer."
Upon hearing these words, Li Feiyu's face immediately lit up with joy. He slapped Han Li hard on the shoulder several times.
"Good brother, that's what I like to hear — the happiest thing I've heard all day. I'll take my leave now."
He then sprang up, and after a few quick leaps, vanished at the end of the path, completely out of sight.
"Ow, that hurts!" Han Li suddenly clutched his shoulder. Those slaps from Li Feiyu had secretly been infused with internal energy, and now his shoulder was swollen up high, red and tender like a small steamed bun, impossible to even touch. He'd really taken a beating from that one.
"That damn brat — just because I hit a sore spot, he had to get back at me like this." Han Li grimaced and cursed inwardly as he hurriedly fished a healing pill from his inner pocket, pulled open his shirt, and applied it to his shoulder.