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An ordinary mountain village youth, by chance enters a minor Jianghu sect as a provisional disciple. How does he establish himself within the sect's hierarchy? How does one with mediocre spiritual roots ascend the celestial ladder of immortal cultivation, ultimately reigning supreme across Heaven, Earth, and the Mortal Realm?

Start with a mortal

*Thud!* Han Li slammed his fist onto the table. After agonizing deliberation, he resolved to break the bottle open with brute force.

Though simple and effective, the thought of destroying such a unique, beautiful object pained him. Yet, with no other options and unwilling to risk others discovering his treasure, he steeled himself.

His curiosity burned hotter than caution. *What if it's empty?* But the gamble consumed him. If he didn't solve the mystery, sleep would flee him.

Sneaking into the valley's storage shed, Han Li snatched a small iron hammer. Back in his hut, he placed the bottle atop a flat brick and raised the tool.

*Tap.* A tentative first strike. No cracks. Emboldened, he swung harder.

*Bang!* The hammer's fury buried half the bottle into the brick. Yet the jade-green surface remained pristine—no scratches, no dents.

Stunned, Han Li traced the unblemished curves. *This is no ordinary trinket.* Fear crept in—its owner must be searching frantically. To keep it, he must hide it well.

Han Li harbored no sympathy for the wealthy or powerful. Memories of arrogant young masters flaunting riches and bullying village-born disciples soured his conscience. *Let them suffer a loss for once.*

He retrieved a leather pouch from his neck—a talisman sewn by his mother, holding a boar-tusk charm for protection. The bottle nestled beside it, hidden against his chest.

After discreetly returning the hammer, Han Li strolled through Divine Hand Valley, feigning nonchalance until dusk. Safeguarding his secret, he limped home, heart light despite his throbbing toe.

Chapter 12: Smashing the Bottle