The Fall of a Tyrant

“How old do you think I am?” The muscles on Doctor Mo’s cheeks twitched violently as he forced out an incongruous question.

“Sixty or so, judging by appearance. But since you ask, I suppose you look older or younger than that.” Han Li was slightly surprised, but his tone remained flat and unhurried.

“Remarkable! Truly worthy of one who has cultivated the Eternal Spring Art. A country child, turned into such a sharp and clever young man!” Doctor Mo clicked his tongue in wonder, gazing at Han Li with an avid expression.

“You guessed wrong. I am thirty-seven years of age.” An impossible number fell from Doctor Mo’s lips.

“Impossible!” Han Li, who had maintained his composure until now, showed shock for the first time.

“Impossible! Indeed, impossible! Anyone who sees me would not only take me for sixty, but if I claimed to be seventy, no one would doubt it either.” Doctor Mo’s voice rose sharply, turning piercing and grating in Han Li’s ears as if it had touched his deepest wound.

“In my early years in Lan Province of the Yue Kingdom, I made quite a name for myself in the martial world. I carved out my own territory with my bare hands, created a reputation. Heh! Back then in Lan Province, who did not know the name ‘Ghost Hand’? On both sides of the law, those who followed me lived, those who opposed me died.” Doctor Mo’s voice dropped to a low, steady tone as he narrated his story. As he spoke, a sharp, sword-like light gleamed in his eyes, as though he had returned to his days of glory and power.

Han Li was secretly astonished by this revelation. He had not expected his nominal master to have such a formidable past.

“Unfortunately, it did not last. In my prime, just as I was preparing to expand my influence, I was betrayed by a trusted subordinate and fell victim to a sinister scheme. Though my medical skills were acute enough to keep the injury from killing me, I could not cure it entirely. My martial skill declined sharply, and I could no longer hold my ground in the north. Fearing revenge from my enemies, I abandoned everything I had built—my estate, my family—and vanished without a trace. I wandered through the other regions of Yue, searching for a cure, hoping to restore my former strength.” As he recounted his later misfortunes, he was wholly absorbed in the memory. His fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. Yet he seemed unaware of the pain. Only a gnashing, ferocious expression of hatred twisted across his face—a venomous look that made one’s blood run cold. His hatred for the one who had betrayed him was clearly bone-deep.

Hearing the endless hatred in his words, Han Li could not help but feel a chill creep down his spine.

“Heaven did not abandon me. Finally, at a certain secret place, I stumbled upon a strange book. It was obscure and profound, and I spent a tremendous effort to understand just a small part of it. I found a shortcut to restore my strength within its pages. I followed the method described…” Doctor Mo paused, not finishing immediately, but his exasperation was plain to see, mixed with a hint of regret.

“And you ended up looking like this,” Han Li said coldly, finishing the sentence for him.

“Correct. I did not expect that after following the book’s method, my power returned, but I began to age rapidly, turning into this prematurely withered, half-human, half-ghost creature.” Doctor Mo nodded grimly, not angered by Han Li’s sarcasm.

“You must have found the reason by now.”

“I did it improperly and was invaded by evil qi. For me, one day of living now consumes the vitality of ten ordinary days. I am draining my life force at an alarming rate every moment. Fortunately, I am well-versed in nurturing techniques and prepared a secret medicine according to the book’s instructions, which slowed the aging enough for me to survive until now.”

“What does the technique I practice have to do with solving your problem?” Han Li cut directly to the core of the matter.

“Not long after I became like this, I found a solution in the very same book. It is the Eternal Spring Art you cultivate. If someone who has reached the fourth layer could use the Eternal Spring qi to massage my vital acupoints through my channels, I could escape my current predicament and reclaim my lost vitality.”

“Why find me? Couldn’t you just find someone else to practice that technique?” Han Li pondered for a moment, then voiced a question that had long troubled him.

“Do you think any random person can learn the Eternal Spring Art? The technique requires a young child to cultivate from the beginning, and the practitioner must possess a ‘Spiritual Root’ constitution. I do not know exactly what a Spiritual Root is, but before you, I tested several hundred children, and none of them could cultivate it.” A look of irritation crossed Doctor Mo’s face.

“Is that so?” Han Li was slightly taken aback. He had not expected the technique to have such strict requirements.

“In the remaining years of my life, I thought it impossible to ever find someone who could practice it. I gave up on myself, disguised myself as a wandering physician, and began drifting. Then, by chance, I encountered the Sect Leader Wang of the Seven Mysteries Sect, who had also been betrayed by his own men. Feeling a kinship in his suffering, I saved his life. On his invitation, I went along with the flow and became an honorary elder of the sect, intending to hide my name and spend my final days on the mountain. Heh! But a miracle happened. At first, fearing that all my medical and martial knowledge would be lost, I brought you and Zhang Tie into the valley, genuinely intending to take you on as disciples. But then, I do not know why, I had you both try the Eternal Spring Art. Perhaps I was clinging to a sliver of hope. Even if you could not cultivate it, I would still have accepted you and passed on a portion of my skills. But who would have thought—you actually had a reaction to the art! Haha! Heaven truly does not seal off all roads!”

Doctor Mo revealed all these secrets in one breath, a sickly flush spreading across his face. He seemed quite proud of his good fortune.

“I have not yet reached the fourth layer of the Eternal Spring Art. Why restrain me now and lay everything bare?” Han Li finally asked the question that concerned him most at this moment.

“You have only yourself to blame. I have expended so much effort and care on you, yet you have not satisfied me. You keep playing games with me. Now we are but one step from the end, but you stubbornly refuse to advance further. I could have waited another two years for you, but on this recent trip down the mountain, an old enemy recognized me. After a bitter struggle, I killed him, but it drained the last of my meager vitality. My lifespan has been greatly shortened. Even using every means at my disposal, I can only extend my life by another year at most. How do you expect me to wait any longer?” Doctor Mo’s proud expression vanished, replaced by a fierce glare as he roared at Han Li.

Han Li’s expression remained unchanged. He showed no sign of being affected.

But inside, his mind was in turmoil, far from the calm and confidence his appearance suggested.

Though he had long suspected that Doctor Mo harbored deep intentions toward him, he had never imagined such a vast conspiracy. The man’s life story, his experiences, the technique he practiced—none of it was within the scope of what Han Li had ever imagined.