Chapter 21: The Birth of Inner Demons

Han Li stood silently, watching Li Feiyu's retreating figure. After arranging to meet the next noon for the painkiller, Li Feiyu had excused himself to recuperate.

Han Li had not asked why Li Feiyu took the Marrow-Extracting Pill. Some burdens were too heavy to share. If Li Feiyu chose fleeting glory over his future, he must have reasons beyond words. To pry would only reopen wounds.

Li Feiyu's silent gratitude confirmed Han Li's tact. Another debt was owed, unspoken but understood.

Han Li resolved to honor their pact: keep the secret and brew the remedy.

Under the moonlit sky, Han Li's thoughts drifted to his family. Four years had passed since he left home. His monthly silver had transformed their lives—his eldest brother married, his second brother betrothed. Yet their letters grew formal, distant, as if addressing a stranger.

The warmth of memory lingered tonight, a rare comfort he savored.

Han Li pressed a hand to his chest, fingers brushing the talisman pouch. Usually, it brought calm. Tonight, agitation surged. His blood churned; the strange energy within him writhed.

*Qi deviation?* He forced himself to breathe. Without Physician Mo, he faced this alone.

His gaze fell on the talisman pouch. A reckless intuition struck him.

He yanked the pouch off and hurled it away. Instantly, his condition worsened—blood roared, muscles twitched. Desperate, he retrieved the pouch and clutched the talisman inside.

Cool clarity washed over him. The turmoil ceased.

Han Li sighed, studying the talisman. Unbeknownst to him, this was no mere qi deviation but a **heart demon's invasion**. Without the talisman's intervention, he might have spiraled into madness.

To his surprise, his cultivation had advanced—reaching the peak of the third layer. He suppressed his excitement, wary of another crisis.

While storing the talisman, he rediscovered a long-forgotten vial: the mysterious green liquid from years past.

Now wiser, Han Li recognized its extraordinary nature. Its secrets demanded exploration.

The vial's emerald droplet remained unchanged. To unravel its purpose, he needed test subjects.

Exhausted from the night's ordeal, he decided to rest. Tomorrow, experiments would begin.

At dawn, Han Li traded silver for two gray rabbits. He tied them in the herb garden, letting the sun parch them.

Once thirsty, he diluted the green liquid in water and offered it to the rabbits. They drank greedily.

Soon, the rabbits grew restless. Egg-sized lumps bulged beneath their fur, merging into grotesque swellings. Their bodies ballooned, stretching like overfilled sacks.

Han Li watched, stunned. This was no poison or elixir—it defied all expectations.

The rabbits' bodies inflated into spherical monstrosities, their heads comically small atop bloated forms.

Han Li recoiled. The liquid's effect was neither lethal nor empowering—it was pure, visceral horror.