Stealing the Manuals

One afternoon, more than ten days later, Han Li slipped out of Divine Hand Valley to meet Li Feiyu again.

It wasn’t really sneaking out, though. Doctor Mo had long known about Han Li’s frequent trips out of the valley, but he never interfered, letting Han Li come and go as he pleased.

This hands-off attitude made Han Li’s skin crawl at first. He couldn’t figure out what the man was playing at. But after a few trips in and out without anyone following him—he checked carefully each time—he relaxed. He started going about his business with more confidence.

After thinking it over for a long while, Han Li slowly began to understand why Doctor Mo gave him such leeway.

Doctor Mo had his own reasons for tolerating Han Li.

He had Han Li pinned down with two heavy locks: the Corpse Worm Pill and the threat to his family. But he also knew that such a crude method of control would fill the boy with resentment. Forced cultivation would never be wholehearted. If he also restricted Han Li’s freedom to come and go, it would only backfire. After all, Doctor Mo’s real aim was to get Han Li to cultivate the Eternal Spring Art voluntarily, not to drag him along by the hand and foot.

Once Han Li understood the situation, he grew bolder. Where before he had been careful to slip out of the valley out of Doctor Mo’s sight, now he simply walked straight past him without a word, shoulders loose, as if he owned the place.

On the surface, Han Li seemed careless, even indifferent. But inside, he remained cautious.

As soon as he stepped out of the valley, he activated the Eternal Spring Art, sharpening his senses to an almost unbelievable degree. Every moving thing within several dozen zhang fell under his perception.

He was confident that even if Doctor Mo himself tried to tail him, he wouldn’t escape detection.

In a direct fight, Han Li might not win. But when it came to using his five senses, he had absolute trust in his own ability.

Along the way, he carefully avoided the patrol disciples. Through the secret tunnel in the old locust tree, he crawled into the area near the small pond where they had met before.

When he got inside, he saw Li Feiyu sitting barefoot at the edge of the pond. His head was down, his feet splashing in the cold water, making colorful drops fly. He was having a great time.

Hearing Han Li approach, Li Feiyu didn’t even look up. He just complained, “Junior Han, you’re getting later and later. I have to wait half the day every time. Can’t you come a bit earlier?”

“Sorry, I was…” Han Li brushed dirt off his clothes, about to explain.

“Catch.”

Li Feiyu didn’t let him finish. He tossed a huge bundle from behind him straight at Han Li.

“What’s this? Something good to eat?” Han Li was confused. The bundle felt hard and heavy—not like food.

“All you think about is eating! Didn’t you ask me to bring out the Blinking Sword Art manual?” Li Feiyu shot him a glare, then put on a serious face.

“This is the sword manual? You’ve got to be kidding. You didn’t accidentally throw your doorstep whetstone in there, did you?” Han Li looked at the giant thing in his arms, disbelief written all over his face.

“It’s heavy!” He strained his arms, trying to weigh it, and nearly toppled over.

“Hahaha!” Li Feiyu couldn’t hold it in anymore. He burst out laughing, rolling on the ground, getting his clothes covered in grass clippings and mud.

Han Li eyed him suspiciously, then glanced at the enormous bundle.

Thump.

He gave it a light kick with his foot. It really did feel like a book.

Ignoring his now-hysterical friend, Han Li rubbed his chin, crouched down next to the bundle. For him, guessing at something he could find out instantly was just a waste of mental energy.

His pale, clean hands settled on the bundle’s tight knot. Ten fingers began to flicker rapidly, a blur of shadows moving over the knot. In an instant, the tightly tied knot came loose.

Clap, clap.

A clear sound of applause rang out.

Han Li didn’t open the bundle first. Instead, he turned to look at the laughing menace behind him.

Li Feiyu had stopped laughing sometime ago and had put on his shoes. Now he was clapping with all his might, applauding, seemingly unconcerned that his palms had turned red.

“Tsk tsk! Every time I see you use Coiling Silk Technique like that, I can’t believe how perfectly it suits you. It’s only been two months since I taught you.” Li Feiyu kept clapping, still making tsk-tsking sounds.

“You don’t mean you turned a single book into this giant bundle just to make me show off, do you?” Han Li said in annoyance.

“Of course not. Open it and you’ll understand.” Li Feiyu’s playful expression faded, replaced by a serious look.

Seeing his friend suddenly speak with such gravity, Han Li’s curiosity stirred. He turned his head back and let his eyes fall on the bundle again.

He thought for a moment, then stretched out his index and middle fingers, gently pinched a corner of the wrapping, and lifted it, revealing everything inside.

“This…” A cold sweat instantly broke out on Han Li’s forehead. His eyes nearly popped out.

“What? Surprised?” Li Feiyu walked over slowly, patting him on the shoulder.

Han Li turned around woodenly, staring straight at him, speechless for a long time.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m not going to pledge myself to you,” Li Feiyu teased with a grin.

Hearing that joke, Han Li seemed to snap awake.

“I’m cutting ties with you. From now on, pretend I don’t know you, and you’ve never seen me.” Han Li shouted in anger.

“Either I’m seeing things, or you’ve lost your mind. You’ve moved nearly a third of Seven Peaks Hall’s collection! If the hall protectors catch us, we won’t even die easy.” Han Li pointed at the pile of manuals of all sizes in front of him, yelling at Li Feiyu.

On the upper-left corner of each cover, written in neat brushwork, were the prominent gold characters: Seven Peaks Hall Collection.