Chapter 32: Chapter Thirty-Two: A Surge of Boldness

Han Li turned and walked toward the door; when he reached the threshold, he suddenly turned back and asked another question:

“The gentleman standing behind Master Mo, who has said not a word—what is his background?”

Upon hearing Han Li’s sudden question, Master Mo smiled faintly and evasively replied:

“You’re so clever—try guessing. You’ll surely figure it out.”

Han Li shook his head and walked out of Master Mo’s room without hesitation, whether because he couldn’t guess or simply refused to try.

As soon as Han Li stepped outside, his expression turned grim.

“In this clash with Master Mo, I had no means to counter him at all—he subdued me instantly. I was too naive, thinking I could outwit him with petty tricks. The five-poison water I painstakingly crafted never even served its purpose; it was seized outright. I must return and carefully reconsider how to strengthen my own power.”

Thinking this, he strode toward his quarters. Clearly, he refused to accept being controlled by Master Mo.

Inside the room, Master Mo stared in shock at the wooden floor, where a hole the size of a bowl had appeared, blackened and charred. Just moments ago, he had idly fired a shot from the iron tube—and the toxic liquid spewed forth had effortlessly corroded straight through the floor. Seeing the grotesque toxicity of the liquid, Master Mo could no longer suppress his dread; he leapt to his feet and cursed violently:

“You bastard, when did you learn to make poison like this? I never taught you anything of the sort—I thought it was just some ordinary sleeping powder. This brat is truly ruthless, turning on his benefactor without a second thought.”

Unaware that he had terrified Master Mo, Han Li returned to his room, threw himself onto the bed, and fell into a deep sleep. Today’s upheavals had drained him utterly—he needed rest to recover his strength.

After replenishing his spirit, Han Li slowly awoke from sleep. He sat up, glanced at the sky—the east was faintly whitening. He had slept longer than he thought.

Sitting upright, Han Li did not get out of bed. Instead, he propped his chin on his hands, his arms resting on his thighs, pondering ways to escape Master Mo’s control.

Clearly, he was safe for this year—Master Mo, concerned for his own life, would do everything to protect him. But whether he would remain safe after a year was uncertain.

As for the “Changchun Art,” Han Li had no worries—he had already mastered the fourth level days ago, and the fifth level would surely come easily within a year.

The “Corpse Worm Pill” issue was also solvable: he could simply show his cultivation progress to Master Mo and threaten to withhold treatment unless given the antidote. Master Mo would hardly dare offend him over it.

Suddenly, Han Li remembered something. He reached into his clothing and pulled out a vial, poured out a greenish pill, swallowed it, and after a while, as the medicine took effect, he began to calmly turn his awareness inward.

“Cough! Master Mo didn’t lie about this Corpse Worm Pill—the Qingling Powder, said to cure all poisons, has absolutely no effect on it. Looks like I really must wait a full year to get the antidote.” Han Li muttered bitterly.

He put the vial back into his robe, then rose from the bed and walked to the foot of it.

He began pacing around the single table in the room.

With his hands clasped behind his back, he walked slowly, still mulling over the problems in his mind.

Han Li did not fully believe Master Mo’s words—he knew they contained many falsehoods. But knowing this, he could not resist, for Master Mo held his family as leverage.

Han Li deeply doubted whether Master Mo would truly keep his promise after a year. If things were as simple as claimed, it would be easy—he’d have no need to resist. But he feared Master Mo had concealed dangerous truths, and would turn on him violently when the time came. If he made no preparations, he’d have no chance to fight back at all.

Han Li turned the matter over and over in his mind, but found no viable solution.

Now, both he and Master Mo were afraid: Master Mo feared Han Li’s lack of diligence would cost him his life, while Han Li feared that once his leverage was gone, Master Mo would strike him down without mercy.

He had once hoped to use this leverage to threaten Master Mo, forcing him to tread carefully—but now that his family was the target, he could only retreat, helpless and forced to compromise.

“Must I really entrust my life to Master Mo’s mercy, hoping he’ll show compassion when the time comes?” Han Li felt disheartened.

“No. I will never let my fate rest in another’s whim. To surrender everything to someone else’s control is the stupidest idea imaginable.” He immediately rejected this foolish thought.

After racking his brain, Han Li finally devised a plan that was hardly a plan at all.

He intended to strengthen himself from multiple angles, find every possible way to increase his own leverage, to intimidate Master Mo—so that even if the man decided to strike, Han Li would still have room to defend himself.

It was a clumsy strategy: purely defensive, leaving the initiative to the enemy. But now, it was the only viable, prudent option.

Having made his decision, Han Li decided to go outside. He opened the door and stepped onto the open ground, lazily stretching his arms and yawning.

Facing the biting morning wind, gazing at the half-risen red sun, a surge of boldness rose within him:

“My fate belongs only to me—I will never let another control it.”

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