Li Feiyu and the Girl

Elder Li’s residence was neither lavish nor spacious—just an ordinary civilian home. Several adjoining rooms were enclosed by a simple courtyard, its earthen wall two meters high and half a meter thick. A crescent-shaped gate faced the approach road, and through the half-open wooden door one could see many visitors already inside.

Once Han Li entered the courtyard, he realized there were even more people than it had appeared from outside. They gathered in small clusters, murmuring quietly about Elder Li’s injuries.

Han Li had long heard that Elder Li was one of the few genuinely kind-hearted figures among the Seven Mysteries Sect’s high ranks. He rarely raised his voice at either junior disciples or fellow elders, never schemed for power or profit within the sect, and was universally praised for his easygoing nature. With such an amiable reputation, it was only natural that anyone with any standing—sincere or not—would come or send a representative to pay their respects now that Elder Li had been injured. That was how this crowd had formed.

As soon as Han Li entered, he was recognized. The lower-ranking Protectors and others immediately swarmed around him, vying to greet him.

“Good day, Divine Doctor Han!”

“Doctor Han has arrived!”

……

A stream of flattering voices poured into his ears, impossible to ignore.

Faced with those enthusiastic faces, Han Li’s own expression was just as radiant. He smiled and returned every greeting without omission, displaying impeccable politeness. But underneath, he was thoroughly weary of this hollow social theatre.

Fortunately, the higher-status individuals—a few Vice Hall Masters and Elders—had enough self-restraint to simply nod at him from a distance, signaling their acknowledgment without approaching. Han Li actually felt some gratitude toward them; at least he wouldn’t have to entertain a whole new group of lords.

Ma Rong, on the other hand, was too low in rank to join the conversation. He could only stand aside, watching Han Li engage in that sticky, endless round of pleasantries, his face twisted with anxiety, hands clenching and unclenching.

Finally, Han Li finished greeting the last person. Ma Rong could no longer hold back. He rushed forward, grabbed Han Li’s arm, and dragged him into the house. This rash behavior drew frowns from some who had been hoping to curry favor with Divine Doctor Han.

Han Li appeared to give a wry smile, but inwardly he was genuinely relieved. At last he could escape those chatterboxes without offending anyone.

Thus Ma Rong pulled Han Li directly into the main hall.

The hall was sparsely occupied. Aside from a few family members, there were two Elders and Vice Sect Leader Ma. What truly surprised Han Li, however, was that Li Feiyu was also present.

That was unexpected. As far as Han Li knew, Li Feiyu had no connection to Elder Li. Why was he here?

Just as Han Li was puzzling over this, he noticed Li Feiyu standing beside a petite, tear-streaked young girl, murmuring words of comfort. His manner was completely different from how he acted in front of his fellow disciples or even before Han Li himself. The face of a man hopelessly entangled in romantic feelings was exposed without disguise.

Seeing Li Feiyu so deeply ensnared, Han Li suddenly understood. He felt a jolt of surprise, but also a wave of amusement.

He took a closer look at the girl, curious to see just what kind of sweeping beauty had managed to capture the lawless, reckless Li Feiyu.

She appeared about fifteen or sixteen, with a jade hairpin tucked into her hair and a lotus-green dress that suited her small frame perfectly. Her glossy black hair was braided into two ponytails that hung behind her back, adding a touch of playfulness to an already sweet face. But now her eyes were red and swollen, giving her an air of delicate vulnerability that stirred a protective impulse.

“Well, well. A genuine little beauty,” Han Li marveled inwardly. He couldn’t blame Li Feiyu for falling into her net—it was understandable—but he also felt a trace of envy and jealousy. When would he have a confidante of his own?

Perhaps noticing that Han Li had spotted the girl, Ma Rong hurried forward to introduce the people in the room.

Han Li had already met Vice Sect Leader Ma and Elder Qian, the fair-faced one, so he stepped forward to offer his greetings.

“Vice Sect Leader Ma, Elder Qian, I wish you well.”

“Hehe! Little Doctor Han has arrived!” Vice Sect Leader Ma said in a very approachable tone, not putting on any airs.

(Little Doctor Han? Han Li grumbled inwardly. “It’s just ‘Doctor Han.’ Why add ‘little’?”)

Elder Qian, by contrast, gave only a cold nod, the complete opposite of Ma’s attitude. But Han Li didn’t take it to heart; he knew that Elder Qian’s internal technique required emotional detachment, so he was cold to everyone.

The other Elder—a burly man with a red face—was unfamiliar to Han Li. He had rough palms and short, thick fingers, suggesting specialized hand techniques.

“This is Elder Zhao, a close friend of my master’s. He’s been supervising the Treasure Gathering Hall outside the mountain, and only returned a couple of days ago,” Ma Rong introduced.

Elder Zhao gave a noncommittal grunt through his nose, not speaking. But his eyes were thick with suspicion, clearly doubting that such a young doctor could be any good.

Since Elder Zhao seemed to hold Han Li in low regard, Han Li wasn’t about to warm up to him either. He returned a flat greeting, intending to move past the man.