Chapter 40

Those who complained did not know that the elder who created this sword technique had once possessed profound cultivation, but during a martial arts conflict in his prime, his opponent had accidentally destroyed his internal energy, rendering him forever unable to cultivate true qi.

Fearing his status within the sect would plummet, the elder never revealed this to anyone; instead, he pretended to have made tremendous progress, acting as if his skills were unfathomably deep, deceiving everyone in the sect.

Yet he had lost all means of self-defense—a fact unchangeable. From then on, he lived in seclusion, relying on his extraordinary wit to remain undetected by all.

That era was precisely when the Seven Mysteries Sect dominated Jingzhou at its peak.

When the elder realized his cultivation could never be restored, in despair, he exploited his authority to secretly order his subordinates to ambush numerous obscure, little-known sects.

From these sects, he forcibly seized many forbidden martial arts manuals, seeking a supreme technique that required no internal qi to wield.

After years of scavenging, he indeed uncovered many astonishing secret techniques—but none suited his needs.

He was utterly disheartened.

This elder was also a man of extraordinary talent and brilliance. In his despair, he conceived the idea of combining all the secret techniques he had gathered to forge a unique martial art tailored for himself.

The thought thrilled him. To create a singular martial art was every martial artist’s lifelong dream. From then on, he became obsessed, pouring all his energy into researching and testing his ideas. To avoid worldly distractions, he even entered seclusion, ignoring all sect conflicts entirely.

Creating a martial art was an immensely difficult endeavor. Especially one with such severe limitations: it had to function without true qi, yet integrate countless secret techniques into a supreme skill.

The unprecedented process of creating this technique proved far more grueling than he had imagined—but he was a man of immense perseverance. After nearly half a lifetime of tireless effort, spanning decades, the Blinking Sword Manual was finally completed.

The elder was overjoyed. When he eagerly announced his success to the sect, he unexpectedly discovered that the Seven Mysteries Sect had already collapsed. The entire sect was under siege by numerous small factions, on the brink of total annihilation.

The sixty-year-old elder, stunned and enraged, unleashed his newly perfected, bizarre sword technique with terrifying power, slaying countless powerful foes and terrifying the remaining masters, forcing the Seven Mysteries Sect to carve a bloody path out of the encirclement—saving the sect from extinction.

Unfortunately, barely had he escaped danger when his time came. He left only a final command to place his life’s work in the Seven Perils Hall, then passed away.

Even more tragically, in the years that followed, not a single disciple—not even Han Li—ever attempted to cultivate this art, leaving this pearl shrouded in dust, unseen and forgotten.

Han Li knew nothing of these past events. Even if he had known, he would not have cared. To him, as long as this sword technique suited his cultivation and might save his life from Master Mo, that was enough. What was its origin? Who created it? He had zero interest. He was a practical man—he would never waste effort on anything offering no tangible benefit.

In his room, Han Li lit an oil lamp, leaned over the wooden desk, and under its dim glow, continued flipping through the secret manuals.

He had no intention of copying them; instead, he planned to use his extraordinary memory to memorize every single technique in his mind—ensuring safety, preventing loss, and avoiding any risk of exposure.

He remained highly wary of Master Mo—he was not foolish enough to believe the man was not monitoring him. If dozens of copied manuals appeared in his room, it would expose everything, alerting Master Mo to his actions prematurely.

The orange flame of the lamp suddenly “popped,” releasing a small oil blossom, reminding Han Li that much time had passed—he should rest soon.

But Han Li paid it no mind. He was fully immersed in the world of the manuals; each bizarre technique within had captured his entire attention.

As one oil blossom after another burst, the shadow cast on the wall swayed unpredictably, growing larger and smaller. Yet Han Li himself sat motionless—this contrast of stillness and movement created an eerie yet strangely harmonious sensation.

Minutes passed, one after another. The shadow behind Han Li gradually blurred, then faded into nothingness. Outside, daylight had fully broken.

Han Li had unknowingly read all night.

“Pop!” The final large oil blossom burst, and the lamp went out completely. Han Li was finally jolted back from the book.

He looked up at the lamp, then out the window at the bright light, and let out a bitter smile.

He never imagined he would one day become so obsessed with studying killing techniques. He was truly no longer the man he once was.

Han Li sighed for a long while before rising, stretching his neck and limbs, his joints cracking with “pops.” He turned, opened the door, stepped outside, drew a basin of cold water from a nearby deep well, washed his face thoroughly, revived his spirit, then practiced the Evergreen Art, letting its energy circulate through his body—his entire night’s fatigue vanished without a trace.

After reading and studying all night, Han Li knew that fully mastering this martial art would require at least ten or eight years of relentless practice. Even with his exceptional talent, it would take two or three years just to achieve minor proficiency.

But time does not wait.

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