Chapter 11

On his way back, Han Li encountered few people; only a few passing senior brothers noticed his limp and looked surprised, but said nothing to him—it seemed no one paid much attention to this junior disciple.

Back at his quarters, the pain in his foot intensified. Han Li quickly sat on the edge of his bed and gently removed his shoes and socks to examine the injury.

The swelling was terrible! His right big toe had swollen high, the skin stretched tight, red and shiny, like a blazing red chili pepper.

Han Li hurriedly reached for the wooden pillow on his bed, pulling out a small “medicine” bottle from beneath it—this was Master Mo’s carefully crafted external remedy, miraculously effective for bruises, swelling, and even bleeding. He had struggled hard to obtain it from Master Mo, originally intending to keep it on hand for Zhang Tie’s injuries from practicing the “Elephant Armor Art,” but now he was using it himself.

As soon as he opened the cap, a rich medicinal fragrance filled the room. He sprinkled a light dusting of powder onto the swollen toe—a cool sensation immediately spread upward. Truly, Master Mo’s secret remedy lived up to its reputation; results were immediate. Master Mo’s medical skill was truly unmatched!

Han Li found a clean cloth and wrapped the injured toe into a large bandage, then put on his shoes and socks again.

Hmm! Good, the pain had eased considerably.

He took a few slow, careful steps around the room, satisfied with how quickly he had treated the injury.

Now it was time to deal with that mysterious bottle—the source of his severe injury.

Han Li pulled the bottle from his robe, wiped it clean with a rag, and only then did its full appearance come into view.

The bottle was not large—his palm could easily enclose it, slightly smaller than his own medicine bottle. Its entire surface was a faint pale green, adorned with dark green patterns resembling leaves, lifelike and raised to the touch, as if actual leaves had been inlaid directly onto the surface.

He weighed it in his hand—it was heavy, yet clearly not made of any metal he knew, nor any ceramic he recognized. Its surface felt neither cold like ordinary metal nor smooth like typical porcelain.

After careful observation, Han Li was certain: the bottle was made of some material unknown to him. The pale green hue appeared natural, an inherent color of the material itself—not dyed or added later.

Seeing the tightly sealed cap, Han Li decided to satisfy his curiosity and immediately open the bottle to see if anything lay inside.

He placed his hand on the cap again and twisted with all his strength.

Once, twice, three times… the cap and body seemed cast as one piece—unyielding, not the slightest movement.

Han Li was startled. When he first found the bottle, he hadn’t been able to twist it open either. But back then, preoccupied with his injury, he hadn’t exerted much force or given it much thought. He assumed that now, with full strength, opening it would be easy. Yet it still wouldn’t budge.

He twisted another dozen times, his arm aching, but still no success—he stopped.

He shook his arm and flexed his wrist; he’d strained himself from overexertion.

He brought the bottle close to his eyes and examined it meticulously. Alas—he found no hidden mechanisms or secret latches.

Now Han Li was stumped. Without opening the cap, how could he know if anything was inside? If there was something, and the bottle was this unusual and sealed so tightly, it must be an extremely valuable treasure.

Han Li gripped the bottle tightly, stared at it, and sat lost in thought. Finally, he decided to ask Zhang Tie—whose strength far exceeded his own—to try opening it. Zhang Tie could now lift dozens of buckets of water in each hand and sprint up and down the mountains at full speed; he was the one who filled the valley’s giant water vats every day.

Having made his decision, Han Li went to Zhang Tie’s room to wait, hoping he would return soon.

Waiting was unbearable. Han Li felt time crawl. After a long while, he finally heard the creak of Zhang Tie pushing open the door.

Looking up, Han Li saw Zhang Tie enter wearing a thin blue cotton shirt, his body faintly steaming, drenched in sweat. Han Li knew this was normal after cultivation—he wasn’t surprised.

Zhang Tie was startled to see Han Li in his room. Before he could speak, Han Li, already impatient, thrust the bottle into his face.

“Brother Zhang, can you help me open this bottle?”

“Where did you get this? It looks nice!” Zhang Tie paused briefly, then took the bottle.

“Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!”

“Huh! This thing’s tough—hard to open! What’s it made of?” Zhang Tie didn’t waste words—he gripped the cap with both hands and twisted with all his might, yet still couldn’t budge it.

“I can’t open it. Maybe you should ask another senior brother to try?” Zhang Tie shook his head apologetically and tossed the bottle back to Han Li, offering another suggestion.

“You can’t either?” Han Li grew anxious and began pacing around the room.

“Hey, what’s wrong with your foot?” Zhang Tie finally noticed Han Li’s limp.

“Nothing—just stubbed my toe on a rock.” Han Li didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to tell Zhang Tie the truth about the bottle. Perhaps unconsciously, he regarded the bottle as his own secret.

Han Li felt deeply disappointed and had no energy for idle chat. He asked a few perfunctory questions about Zhang Tie’s cultivation progress, then left his room, determined to find a solution himself.

Back in his small room, Han Li placed the bottle upright on the table, lay face-down beside it, stared intently at the bottle, and raced his mind, desperately trying to devise a way to solve the problem.

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