Poisoned

1,126 words

As for the other spell, the Celestial Eye Technique, after witnessing the extraordinary power of the Fireball Technique, Han Li had held high hopes for it as well.

But once he actually began to cast it, he realized that this spell was merely a minor trick of applying magical power to the eyes. There was absolutely no difficulty involved; he mastered it with great ease.

However, its effect matched its simplicity. It was a purely辅助型 spell used to observe whether a person possessed magical power within their body, and to gauge its depth.

At first, Han Li was quite enthusiastic. He repeatedly cast the Celestial Eye Technique on his own eyes, then used the enhanced vision to observe the condition of his own body. As a result, he saw a faint white light enveloping him. The closer the area was to his navel, the denser the white light seemed to be.

So this was what spiritual power looked like. Seeing this, Han Li couldn’t help but reach out and touch the white light, but he felt nothing at all. It seemed that spiritual power, like true qi, was formless and intangible; only under the Celestial Eye Technique could it be observed.

After using it consecutively a few times, however, he completely lost interest in it.

After all, throughout the entire Seven Mysteries Sect, he was the only one who could be considered even half a cultivator. Who was he supposed to use the Celestial Eye Technique on? He couldn’t just spend all day staring narcissistically at himself, could he?

Thus, aside from intensifying his practice of the Fireball Technique, hoping to master it for practical combat purposes, he shifted his focus to the other spells he had yet to learn. He began to practice and experiment with them repeatedly, bit by bit, hoping to make another breakthrough.

Thinking about the difficulty of cultivating those other spells, Han Li, who had barely recovered his strength, couldn’t help but let out another sigh. He realized that since he had started practicing magic, the number of times he sighed had increased considerably.

Clang—Clang—

A heavy, dull bell sound came from outside the valley.

Han Li furrowed his brow. Lately, for some unknown reason, the number of people seeking medical treatment had suddenly increased, and most of them had external injuries like severed limbs, knife wounds, or sword cuts.

He dared not delay. Knowing that saving a life was as urgent as putting out a fire, he grabbed his pre-prepared medical kit, left the house, and headed straight for the entrance of the valley.

By the edge of the forest outside the valley, Han Li saw a high-ranking disciple in brocade robes pacing anxiously beneath the large bell, as restless as an ant on a hot pan.

The moment he saw Han Li, the man’s face lit up with joy, and he hurried over.

“Doctor Han, you’ve come! My master has been poisoned; he’s on the verge of death. Please, you must come and see if you can neutralize the poison.”

As the man approached, Han Li realized he looked familiar. He had seen him a few times before. He was Ma Rong, a favored disciple of the sect’s Fifth Elder, Li. He had accompanied his master, Elder Li, to Spirit Hand Valley to see Han Li a few times, so they were considered somewhat acquainted.

“Poisoned?” Han Li asked for the details as he hurriedly followed the man, inwardly cursing his bad luck. After all, he himself was still carrying an unresolved poison.

“Yes. My master was handling a matter down the mountain and got into a fight with an expert from the Wild Wolf Gang. In the chaos, he was hit by a poisoned dart. At first, he didn’t think much of it and even killed his opponent. But once he returned to the mountain, the poison struck, and he fell unconscious.”

“Did you find any other doctors to look at him?”

“Of course. If it were an ordinary poisoning, I wouldn’t have troubled you, Divine Doctor Han. Those quacks could only tell me that my master had been poisoned by something rare, but beyond that, they knew nothing. They didn’t even dare to prescribe a single formula.” Ma Rong’s face was full of contempt, showing his great dissatisfaction with the other physicians.

Upon hearing this, Han Li’s expression remained unchanged. He just gave a noncommittal “mm” in response and continued walking with his head down, but his mind was churning with uneasy thoughts.

To be honest, he wasn’t very skilled at detoxification. He had some confidence in treating internal or external injuries, relying on a few good medicines. But if he were asked to neutralize some rare, lethal poison, he wouldn’t have a clue.

Although he had a supposed panacea called ‘Clear Spirit Powder,’ the world was filled with countless toxic substances. Who knew if the Clear Spirit Powder would be the right antidote? Moreover, the other physicians on the mountain were not useless. They all had their own unique methods for treating common Jianghu ailments like wounds and poisonings. If they were truly incompetent, the sect’s big shots, who valued their own lives dearly, would have kicked them off the mountain long ago rather than keeping a group of frauds.

The fact that those physicians hadn’t even dared to prescribe a formula meant this poison was indeed a tough nut to crack. He would have to adapt on the fly. Even if he couldn’t save the man, it wouldn’t ruin his reputation. After all, no divine doctor could truly cure every disease. It wouldn’t have a major impact on his standing within the sect.

Just as Han Li was carefully planning his approach, Ma Rong was practically half-dragging him, tugging at his sleeve and hurrying him along the path to Elder Li’s residence.

Seeing Ma Rong’s frantic state, Han Li knew that the bond between master and disciple ran very deep.

His heart felt a pang of melancholy, thinking of his own relationship with Doctor Mo—a relationship that was one of adversaries in name, not true disciples. If only they could have had a harmonious bond like Ma Rong and his master.

Deep down, he had always held a shred of respect for Doctor Mo. After all, his formidable medical skills and the Eternal Spring Art were passed down from him.

But alas, fate played cruel tricks. Heaven had decreed that the two of them could not coexist in this world. It had forced them into a deadly conflict, ultimately leading to Doctor Mo’s accidental death at his own hands.

Just as Han Li was lost in these melancholy thoughts, stirred by the scene before him, Ma Rong had already led him to Elder Li’s residence.

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Reading Guide Decoding

Han Li’s Magical Reality Check

Cultural / Xianxia Notes

Celestial Eye Technique (天眼术): This low-tier spell is the cultivation world’s spiritual CSI kit. It literally opens the practitioner’s ‘Celestial Eye’ to perceive qi fields, cultivation base depth, and elemental imbalances in living beings. In orthodox xianxia, it’s an essential survival tool for reconnaissance—assessing an opponent’s true strength before a fight. However, in Han Li’s current, isolated context, it’s a dead-end skill: he has no one to spy on but himself. This practical limitation drives home the Mortal Stream’s core theme: even a powerful tool is worthless if it can’t be applied to immediate survival.

Clear Spirit Powder (清灵散): A standard ‘cure-all’ antidote in Jianghu lore, often used as a narrative shorthand for ‘competent but not legendary.’ It can neutralize most common poisons, but against rare, customized toxins from high-level assassins or cultivators—like the one afflicting Elder Li—it’s often completely useless. In the Mortal Stream’s cynical logic, universal antidotes are a dead giveaway that the seller is either naive or lying. Han Li’s doubt about his own Clear Spirit Powder is not just professional realism; it’s a survival instinct telling him that in this world, generic solutions rarely solve unique problems.

The Bell as an Urgent Signal: The bell tolling from the valley entrance is a classic Jianghu trope. It is a publicly recognized system for summoning medical aid, with specific patterns for severity. A single, heavy toll signals an urgent but non-life-threatening case; the series of tolls in this chapter indicates a crisis. This system reinforces that the sect, despite its iron hierarchy, has functional emergency protocols—and that Han Li, as the valley’s resident ‘physician,’ is expected to respond without hesitation, regardless of his personal affairs.

Chapter Overview

Ever felt the crushing disappointment of unlocking a new skill, only to realize it’s basically a glorified pair of x-ray glasses? That’s Han Li right now with the Celestial Eye Technique. After the raw, combat-ready power of the Fireball Technique, he’s hoping for something equally impressive—but instead, he gets the cultivation world’s most passive perception check. It can see spiritual power, but can it kill a poisonous snake? No. Can it melt a lock? No. All it can do is make him glow faintly white, which is useless unless you’re a moth with a death wish. Meanwhile, the rest of his spell practice is hitting a wall harder than a Spirit-Fixing Talisman hits a cultivator’s body. But just as frustration sets in, an urgent bell tolls from outside the valley: a high-level disciple’s master has been poisoned, and all the other doctors have given up. Han Li is now the sect’s last hope. This isn’t just any rescue mission—it’s a test of his rapidly expanding skill set, and a poignant mirror to his own relationship with the perished Doctor Mo.

Key Plot Points

Han Li’s exploration of the five basic spells reaches a new baseline. The Fireball Technique is confirmed as the only one with immediate combat utility, blazing through steel and water with satisfying destructiveness. The Celestial Eye Technique, in stark contrast, is a pure auxiliary spell: it reveals spiritual power as a faint white aura concentrated near the dantian but offers no offensive or defensive function. Boredom sets in quickly, as Han Li realizes he’s the only cultivator in the entire Seven Mysteries Sect—who else would he spy on with it?

His frustration with the other yet-unmastered spells (Wind Riding, Telekinesis, Spirit-Fixing) mounts. The chapter shows him sighing more often than he used to, a dry admission of how much the learning curve has steepened since his martial arts days. This isn’t a chosen one breezing through magic; this is a pragmatic farmer forcing his way through unfamiliar territory.

The plot pivots when urgent bell tolls pull him from his studies. Ma Rong, a favored disciple of the Fifth Elder Li, barges in with a desperate plea: Elder Li was poisoned in a fight with a Wild Wolf Gang expert, and no other physician dared to treat him. Han Li’s internal risk assessment immediately kicks in. He knows his own limit—his Clear Spirit Powder isn’t guaranteed to work against rare jungle toxins. But he also knows this is a political necessity; refusing the Fifth Elder’s disciple in plain sight would be a strategic blunder. He accepts, mentally preparing for a likely failure while calculating that even a failed attempt won’t seriously damage his reputation, since no one else has dared to try.

On the way to Elder Li’s residence, Han Li observes Ma Rong’s genuine desperation and compares it to his own bitterly adversarial relationship with Doctor Mo. This silent reflection is the chapter’s emotional core, linking this new poisoning incident back to the unresolved trauma of the valley’s secret history. The chapter ends as they arrive at the elder’s door, with Han Li carrying the burden of both external expectation and internal, unresolved grief.

Reading Guide

This is a classic Mortal Stream ‘breather and setup’ chapter. It balances Han Li’s magical progress with a new social obligation that will test his medical skills and force him to interact with the broader sect hierarchy. Pay close attention to Han Li’s exhaustion—not just physical, but intellectual. His sigh count is rising, and his frustration with spell-casting is building. This is a deliberate pacing move: the author is reminding us that Han Li’s power curve is not a straight line, and that even a methodical calculator can hit a bottleneck of diminishing returns.

The emotional mirror between Ma Rong’s desperate loyalty to Elder Li and Han Li’s fatalistic reflection on Doctor Mo is the chapter’s subtle punch. It’s not melodramatic—Han Li doesn’t cry or brood for long—but it plants a seed of unresolved grief that will shape his actions when he eventually faces the poisoned elder. The chapter’s real value is in its reminder that Han Li is still carrying the weight of his first major kill, and that the wounds of that betrayal are not yet fully scarred.

For new readers, this is a great place to appreciate Han Li’s characterization. He’s not a man who feels pity easily—but when someone else’s loyalty reminds him of what he never had, the mask flickers. That’s the Mortal Stream at its finest: not grand battles, but small, quiet moments where the weight of a brutal world sinks in.