He turned the medicine bottle over, and a fire-red, almond-shaped pill rolled into his palm.
Looking at this spiritual medicine—refined years ago from a high-grade demon core—a hint of regret crossed Han Li's face.
This pill had originally been meant to boost the spiritual power of Core Formation cultivators. Using it here was somewhat of a waste.
If his magical power hadn't been sealed and Silver Moon hadn't been injured, he could have simply used the Soul Search technique directly. None of this would have been necessary.
With one hand, he gripped the blue-robed man's chin. A practiced flick of the wrist, and he deftly dislocated the man's jaw, forcing his mouth wide open.
With his other hand, he flicked the pill forward. Wrapped in a wisp of azure qi, it shot into the blue-robed man's mouth.
Han Li released his hold, reached to his waist, and a gleaming silver needle appeared between his fingers.
Cold light flashed—the silver needle seemed to split into several silver threads that lanced into the blue-robed man's body at various points. The entire process was completed in an instant. Wherever the needle struck, black, toxic blood spurted out nearly a chi high, and a nauseating, putrid stench wafted forth.
Han Li rose to his feet, clasped his hands behind his back, and stood to one side, quietly waiting for the other to regain consciousness.
A full quarter of an hour passed. After a large puddle of toxic blood had drained from Feng Yue's body, a low groan finally escaped his lips—he was about to come to.
Han Li's eyes flickered. Both hands rose, and all ten fingers flicked in rapid succession. A burst of sharp wind shot forth, and the still-flowing toxic blood immediately stopped. Then his shoulder twitched, and his Second Nascent Soul transformed into a dark cloud that streaked into the nearby forest and vanished without a trace.
"It's you..." The blue-robed man finally opened his eyes. Seeing Han Li before him, he let out a startled cry and struggled to sit up.
"What, surprised to see me?" Han Li glanced at Feng Yue and said flatly.
"Was it... was it you who saved me? What about that old scoundrel Feng Zhen?" Though the young man's voice was weak, it was still laced with wariness.
"The one in the purple robe? He's over there on the ground." Han Li's gaze swept casually to one side, his tone offhand.
Feng Yue's eyes shifted. He turned his neck with great effort until he could see the mangled remains of the purple-robed old man—unrecognizable as human. His face went rigid with shock, then twisted into an expression of bitter hatred. His gaze then returned to Han Li, and a peculiar look appeared on his face.
"Could it be that old scoundrel was also killed by Brother Han? It seems Brother Han's powers are truly unfathomable. I, Feng, will remember this life-saving grace. I'll make sure to repay you handsomely in the future." Feng Yue asked tentatively, fishing a pill from his waist pouch and stuffing it into his mouth with one hand while bracing himself on the ground with the other, trying to stand.
But he had barely risen halfway before his legs went soft and he collapsed again.
"What's happening? Why have I lost all my strength?" Feng Yue lay on the ground, the blood draining from his face as a flicker of panic appeared.
"Repay me handsomely in the future? It seems you still don't understand your situation." Han Li made no move to help, his expression unchanged.
"What do you mean? What exactly is wrong with me? Did you place a restriction on me?" The young man stared at Han Li, alarm and anger plain on his face.
"Place a restriction on you? You think too highly of yourself. If I wanted to restrain you, would I need any restriction? Take a look at yourself first." Han Li let out a cold laugh, then tossed a small object to the ground beside Feng Yue.
It was nothing more than an ordinary bronze hand mirror.
Feng Yue's face was full of suspicion, but seeing that Han Li showed no expression whatsoever, he gritted his teeth, picked up the mirror, and peered into it.
"What?! What happened to my face...? This is poison—when did I become so deeply poisoned? Could it be that the thing the old scoundrel used was tainted?" At the sight, Feng Yue's soul nearly fled his body, and he couldn't help but cry out in a hoarse voice.
He then frantically upended his storage pouch onto the ground. With a flash of white light, a large pile of bottles and jars appeared. He hurriedly sorted through them and, without a second thought, began stuffing pills into his mouth.
Han Li watched coldly from the side, letting the man administer his own medicine, and said not a word.
After taking the pills, Feng Yue didn't bother speaking further with Han Li. He immediately closed his eyes, sat cross-legged, and began circulating his energy, hoping to use the medicinal power to force the poison out. But after only a short while, he opened his eyes again—the terror on his face had deepened threefold.
"How is this possible? So many supreme antidotes, and not a single one works. What kind of poison is this?" He had finally grasped the severity of the toxin and was overcome with panic.
"I haven't encountered it before, but it should be the Bitter Poison—one of the Ten Absolute Poisons." Only then did Han Li speak again, in his characteristically unhurried manner.
"Bitter Poison? They actually used this against me? That old scoundrel really did defect to the Kong family. I've heard the Kong family happens to possess this particular poison." Feng Yue's face turned deathly pale in an instant, and he couldn't hold back a scream.
"The Kong family?" Han Li's brow twitched slightly, but his expression immediately returned to normal.