Chapter 34

“Blinking Sword Art?” Han Li repeated the name of the art to himself.

“Yeah, how’s sword art related to blinking? Isn’t that a funny name?”

“Have you practiced this sword art?” Han Li asked with interest.

“Of course not. Who would train in a martial art that doesn’t even use true qi? It’s just a showy facade. Not me—no one has ever cultivated it since its creation.”

“I heard that if not for the Elder who founded it, who had saved the Seven Mysteries Sect from several crises and left a will before his death demanding this art be included in the Seven Perfections Hall, the Blinking Sword Art would never have been admitted into the Seven Perfections Hall’s supreme techniques.”

Li Feiyu, despite his cold exterior, had an unusually loose tongue—Han Li hadn’t even asked, and he’d already spilled all the secrets of this sword art. Of course, his garrulous nature only showed itself before Han Li; outside, among other sect brothers, he was again the cool idol “Senior Li.”

After listening to Li Feiyu’s account, Han Li’s sixth sense faintly told him this was exactly what he had been searching for.

“Senior Li, can you copy this art for me and take it out of the Seven Perfections Hall?”

“Hehe! No problem. For other martial arts, I couldn’t copy them for you—someone checks them daily. But this Blinking Sword Art sits in the corner, completely ignored. Still, copying it’s too tedious. I’ll just sneak the original manuscript out for you. Once you’ve memorized or copied it, I’ll slip it back—no one will notice.” Li Feiyu proposed a bolder idea with casual indifference.

Seeing how confident he seemed, Han Li agreed to his plan.

He had originally worried about Li Feiyu’s careless habit—if he accidentally missed a few moves while copying, Han Li would be cheated.

Now, getting the original manuscript was even better.

“Alright, it’s getting late. I should return to train. Otherwise, the Seven Perfections Hall supervisor will catch me sneaking out again.” Li Feiyu dried himself, pulled on his shirt, and prepared to leave.

Han Li said nothing more, only warned him to be careful when stealing the manuscript—not to get caught.

Li Feiyu turned without concern, waved his hand dismissively over his shoulder, and slowly crawled out through a nearby cave.

As Han Li watched his figure fade into the cave’s mouth, his smile gradually vanished, replaced by a few dark clouds.

Not long after Li Feiyu left, Han Li returned to Divine Hand Valley.

Upon entering Divine Hand Valley, Han Li saw the tall, mysterious man from afar.

He stood motionless outside Master Mo’s house, pressed against the door, his hood drawn, seemingly utterly indifferent to the scorching summer sun.

Han Li stopped at the edge of his own door, gazing at the silent man.

Since being coerced by Master Mo, Han Li had been deeply intrigued by this man who never revealed his face—he seemed born mute, having never spoken a word since arriving at the valley.

Even stranger, his stamina was astonishing: he could stand perfectly still for entire days without ever showing fatigue. Han Li had long labeled him “Monster” in his mind.

He had once tried to communicate with him, but the man remained as wooden as a statue, utterly unresponsive—no matter how vividly Han Li spoke, he received no reaction.

Han Li had finally conceded to Master Mo’s skill: he had trained a living, flesh-and-blood man into a puppet with no weaknesses.

Absolute obedience, astonishing stamina, never speaking, devoid of emotion—though his martial skill remained unknown, it certainly wouldn’t be weak. This was Han Li’s final judgment of the man.

Han Li knew this man might become Master Mo’s next deadly weapon, but he had no way to find any flaw in him.

The only thing that puzzled Han Li was that occasionally, when glancing at the man’s back, he felt a strange sense of familiarity—as if he had seen that same silhouette before. Yet whenever he tried to recall, he could never connect it to any known person’s back.

After watching for a while, Han Li sighed, closed his door, and returned inside. He knew the man would not rest without Master Mo’s command.

He felt restless, leapt straight onto his bed, collapsed onto it, and lay there with his hands behind his head, eyes closed.

He mentally replayed the few moves he had learned from Li Feiyu, silently simulating them in his mind, breaking each technique into segments, then repeatedly analyzing and pondering every detail.

This was a new ability he gained upon reaching the fifth level of the Evergreen Art: perfect recall.

With this advantage, he could memorize any martial art completely in his mind, replay it countless times, and refine and elevate it—this was why Li Feiyu thought him a genius.

Two months ago, Han Li had forcibly broken through the fourth level of the Evergreen Art to reach the fifth level, relying on the effects of two sacred medicines.

The effects of the “Yellow Dragon Pill” and the “Golden Marrow Pill” far exceeded Han Li’s expectations—he had underestimated the immense power of those formulas; these pills were truly priceless treasures.

Yet half of the two marrow-washing spiritual medicines had already been used; the remainder should barely suffice for him to reach the sixth level of the Evergreen Art. He was genuinely curious what surprises the sixth level might bring.

With only half a year left until Master Mo’s final deadline, Han Li had learned some moves from Li Feiyu, but without matching internal true qi, they were merely superficial, flashy techniques.

They might work against those with only basic martial skill, but against Master Mo, they’d be like throwing meat buns to a dog—gone for good.

Han Li felt worried and troubled: his Evergreen Art was excellent in every way, except it couldn’t be used in actual combat or killing.

Now he placed all his hope on the Blinking Sword Art, hoping it would bring him a surprise.

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