The Mysterious Vial

Han Li slowly walked out of Divine Hand Valley. Following the mountain path, his gaze unconsciously drifted toward Red Water Peak, which he could vaguely see in the distance.

He didn't have anything important to do right now. The only reason he'd been making the trek to Zhang Tie's place on schedule every day for the past few days was to watch Zhang Tie's twisted, grimacing face as he trained under the waterfall.

This "Elephant Hide Art" really wasn't something an ordinary person could endure. Just the first layer required enduring such torture; by the later layers, it would probably peel off several layers of skin.

"Zhang Tie is probably already regretting it, right?" Han Li thought as he walked, absentmindedly kicking fallen leaves and twigs along the path. "The Elephant Hide Art's brutality far exceeds what little kids like us could imagine."

"Maybe in a few days, the two of us can beg Doctor Mo together to let Zhang Tie switch to a different technique, to spare him this suffering." Han Li felt a bit encouraged at the thought of finding a way out of his friend's current misery.

He looked up at the trees lining both sides of the path. It was late autumn now; all the branches were bare, and the path was thickly covered with fallen leaves and dead twigs. Walking on it was soft and pleasant.

Just then, from a nearby peak, the faint clash of weapons drifted over, occasionally mixed with loud cheers.

Hearing these sounds, Han Li glanced at that peak again. His mood, which had just improved a little, darkened.

That was the Hundred Forging Hall's training instructors giving new junior disciples weapons combat training.

Whenever Han Li saw other fellow disciples gathering together to train with real blades and spears, he felt a little bitter. He also wanted to pick up a real knife or spear and have a good swing. But unfortunately, ever since he had formally become Doctor Mo's disciple, Doctor Mo had strictly forbidden him from touching such things. He also forbade him from learning other martial arts from other instructors, saying it would hinder his progress in practicing the oral formula.

Thus, Han Li could only watch from afar with envy. Occasionally, in private, he would borrow a few weapons from some close fellow disciples, wave them a few times to satisfy his craving.

What was so good about this oral formula he was practicing? So far, he hadn't seen any use for it. Other disciples who had joined at the same time were all improving their skills by leaps and bounds, while he remained stagnant, unable to see any change at all.

Even Zhang Tie, who had only been practicing the Elephant Hide Art for two months, had become thick-skinned and tougher, and his strength had increased greatly.

But if Doctor Mo hadn't taken him in, he might not have even passed the Disciple on Probation test two months ago, let alone been allowed to stay on the mountain and send so much money home...

So, if he couldn't learn other things, then he wouldn't.

Han Li grumbled in his stomach while comforting himself.

He withdrew his gaze from the distance, still muttering inwardly, but his attention became even more scattered. His unfocused eyes stared at the sides of the path without really seeing anything.

Suddenly, Han Li sucked in a breath of cold air. His expression twisted, and he nearly split his lips from ear to ear. He reflexively crouched down, pressing both hands tightly over his right big toe, then lay half-sprawling in the grass in pain. This sudden, piercing agony struck him down instantly. His face paled as a drilling pain shot up from his toe.

It seemed he had accidentally kicked a very hard stone hidden in the leaf pile.

Han Li curled up, holding his ankle, and instinctively blew hard through his cloth shoe at his injured toe. At the same time, he worried inwardly whether he was seriously hurt, whether his toe would swell up and affect his daily walking.

It took a long time for the pain to subside. Lifting his head, he scanned the leaf pile near his feet, trying to find the culprit that had caused him such suffering.

The fallen leaves scattered around were all the same monotonous color—withered yellow. He couldn't pick out his target from the messy pile.

Frowning, Han Li groped around on the ground and grabbed a relatively thick, long branch. Using it as a crutch, he stood up carefully on his heel.

Unwilling to let it go, he poked the thick leaf pile with the branch.

Eh! A fist-sized object was flipped out by the branch.

Han Li took a closer look. The culprit that had caused his honorable injury was a round bottle with a slender neck. The bottle's surface was covered in mud, completely gray, revealing none of its original color.

At first, Han Li thought it was a small porcelain bottle, but when he picked it up, the weight felt off—it was heavy, very heavy.

Made of metal? No wonder something so small could hurt his foot so badly. But a metal bottle was quite rare.

Han Li became interested in the small bottle, momentarily forgetting the pain in his foot.

He rubbed off some of the mud on the bottle's neck, revealing its original color—a pleasing emerald green. The surface also had fine, dark green leaf-shaped patterns. A small lid tightly sealed the top.

Could there be something inside? He brought the bottle to his ear and gently shook it, but felt nothing moving inside.

He put his hand on the lid and tried to twist it. It wouldn't budge.

His curiosity grew. Just as he was about to try something else, a sharp pain shot up from his foot.

Damn! How could he forget the unfortunate consequences of his intimate contact with this object?

With this injury, he probably couldn't make it to Zhang Tie's place. Better to return to his quarters first, apply some medicine, and then properly study this unexpected little bottle.

Thinking this, and not wanting to be seen by others, he tucked the bottle into his bosom, ignoring how dirty it was, turned around, and limped back the way he came.