Chapter 26: Mo's Return

Though Han Li initially had no intention of brewing the latter two elixirs unrelated to cultivation, he reconsidered. As someone entangled in the martial world, he might face poison or grievous injuries. Preparing antidotes and healing pills became a necessity—after all, life was fragile.

Thus, he crafted small quantities of **Clear Spirit Powder** and **Essence-Nourishing Pills**, sacrificing some progress in his口诀 to prioritize survival.

The same day he completed the elixirs, Han Li consumed a **Yellow Dragon Pill** and a **Golden Marrow Pill**. Their overwhelming potency shattered his bottleneck overnight, propelling him to the fourth layer of the口诀.

The breakthrough transformed his senses. Colors sharpened; distant whispers roared in his ears. He could now perceive spider silk in dim corners and worms burrowing yards away. His body felt lighter, his mind sharper—a qualitative leap.

*If the fourth layer grants such power, what wonders await the fifth or sixth?*

Yet his triumph was short-lived. Old Man Mo returned to Divine Hands Valley, accompanied by a towering, cloaked figure shrouded in a green robe. Mo's appearance shocked Han Li: his once-sallow face now bore a deathly pallor, veins of black energy writhing beneath his skin like living tendrils.

Han Li bowed respectfully, masking his unease. Mo wasted no time interrogating him:

"How fares your口诀?"

"Unchanged," Han Li lied, suppressing his true progress.

Mo seized his wrist, probing his meridians. Han Li feigned third-layer strength, but Mo's deepening scowl betrayed dissatisfaction. Without a word, Mo gestured for Han Li to follow.

In Mo's chamber, tension thickened. The cloaked giant loomed behind Mo, motionless as a statue. Han Li stood rigid, sensing danger.

"Look at me," Mo snapped.

Han Li lifted his gaze. Mo's face contorted—a web of black qi pulsed across his features, eyes gleaming with malice.

"Clever tricks won't save you," Mo hissed, vanishing from his seat. Before Han Li could react, Mo struck his acupoints, paralyzing him.

"Master Mo, what—"

Mo ignored his protests, retrieving a hidden iron cylinder from Han Li's sleeve. "Did you think me a fool?"

Han Li's composure crumbled. Trapped and weaponless, he met Mo's mocking stare.

"Good. Very good," Mo sneered. "Such poise… worthy of my investment."

"What do you want?" Han Li demanded.

"That depends on your cooperation."

Mo's fingers lingered on Han Li's pulse, probing for deceit. Finding none, he released a frustrated sigh.

"Follow."

In the dim chamber, Mo slumped into a chair, his vigor fleeting. The cloaked figure remained a silent sentinel.

Han Li waited, every nerve taut. Minutes dragged.

"Look at me!" Mo barked.

Han Li obeyed. Black tendrils writhed across Mo's face, his eyes cold and mocking.

"You've always distrusted me," Mo rasped. "Wise. I never saw you as a disciple either."

Han Li edged back, fingers brushing a hidden weapon.

"Foolish!" Mo vanished, reappearing inches away. A finger jabbed Han Li's chest, freezing his muscles.

"Master—"

Mo ignored him, seizing the weapon. "Pathetic."

Han Li's hope dwindled. Mo's laughter echoed, sharp and hollow.

"Speak. What do you want?" Han Li growled.

"Everything."