Chapter 60

Yu Zitong was confident in his words; he did not believe anyone could resist the temptation of immortality and eternal life. WM.com

In the past, Master Mo had hated him with a passion, yet under the same words, he had still cooperated obediently. He believed that with just a little more sweetness, this man would surely submit.

But Yu Zitong was disappointed. After hearing his tempting words, Han Li showed no sign of excitement—only calmness, as if the words had stirred not the faintest ripple in the other’s mind.

“As for cooperation, I will consider it later. But right now, I have one question I hope you can answer.” Han Li gazed steadily at the orb, speaking softly.

“Answer my question, and you’ll agree to cooperate?”

“That depends on whether your answer satisfies me.”

“Fine, ask!” Yu Zitong agreed readily, clearly understanding the truth of “under someone else’s roof, one must bow.”

Han Li did not speak immediately. Instead, he raised his head and stared at the ceiling, deep in thought, as if weighing how best to phrase his question.

Yu Zitong was startled by the other’s solemn demeanor. He muttered inwardly, wondering what painful question Han Li might ask.

“I want to know: after I reverse-consumed parts of Master Mo’s and your primordial spirits, what adverse effects will follow? Why do I feel my head swelling and full of foreign things I cannot access? Is there something wrong?” Han Li finally voiced the concern that had haunted him since waking.

Upon hearing this, Yu Zitong realized it was merely a minor concern—he immediately relaxed, his voice growing lighter.

“Hah! So that’s it, little brother. You’re overthinking. Don’t worry at all. The things implanted in your mind will naturally dissipate over one or two years—no effort needed on your part.”

“So you’re saying I gained nothing by consuming them? That I can’t retain even a scrap? I find that hard to believe.” Han Li cast a skeptical glance at him, his expression clearly distrustful.

“It’s not entirely true that nothing remains. But what does remain is very little.” Yu Zitong hurried to explain, fearing misunderstanding.

“Memories, experiences, emotions—these cannot be touched at all. If absorbed, you might become an idiot or suffer a fractured personality; worst case, your spirit swells and bursts your skull.”

“The primordial spirit is the most delicate thing. How could it be casually fused with other elements? Temporarily storing another’s primordial spirit in your mind is possible—but turning it into your own? That’s pure fantasy. Otherwise, anyone could just possess another and instantly gain their experience, memories, and cultivation methods. Would the world not descend into chaos? Who would bother cultivating, refining realms, or mastering heart methods if all you needed was a single possession?”

“The only usable part within a consumed primordial spirit is a tiny amount of primordial energy. This can slightly strengthen your own primordial spirit—but only a trace, because this energy dissipates fastest, vanishing entirely within days, leaving nothing usable.”

As Han Li listened to Yu Zitong’s explanation, his final lingering doubt melted away.

He could tell the other was not lying. At this moment, Yu Zitong likely wished to cooperate with him just as he had with Master Mo—he would not risk deception on a matter that would be revealed so quickly.

After finishing his explanation, Yu Zitong saw Han Li nod. He believed him. Yu Zitong’s heart leapt; the light of his primordial spirit seemed to brighten slightly. He asked eagerly:

“Han little brother, you seem satisfied with my explanation. Shall we now discuss our cooperation?”

“Of course. To cooperate with a cultivator is a dream come true for me!” Han Li suddenly smiled, his white teeth gleaming with unmistakable sincerity.

“Really?” Yu Zitong perked up, astonished the other had agreed without persuasion. He hurried to confirm.

“Of course,” Han Li replied swiftly, crisply.

Then, smiling, he reached into his robe and pulled out an object, speaking warmly to Yu Zitong:

“Since we are now partners, before we discuss details, I trust you won’t refuse a small test.”

“A test?” Yu Zitong froze. He stared at the cylindrical object in Han Li’s hand—it looked familiar, as if he’d seen it before. A dark premonition stirred in his mind.

“Yes. A poison test.”

Before Han Li finished speaking, his thumb flicked the cylinder. A thick, black liquid spurted out, reeking of rot, straight toward the target.

“Ah!”

A shriek erupted from the orb—Yu Zitong’s primordial spirit had been drenched in the black liquid. The green glow flickered violently, dimming sharply. He was clearly badly wounded.

“You—you poisoned me? You ambushed me?!” Yu Zitong screamed, voice ragged, still unable to accept what had just happened.

Han Li ignored his rage. He reached up, grabbed the clasp above his waistband, and with a sharp *shriek*, pulled out a gleaming sword from the belt’s hidden compartment.

The blade was as wide as a finger, about one and a half chi long, supple as silk—a rare “Jade Belt Short Sword.”

This weapon was the last and most expensive short sword Han Li had commissioned a blacksmith to forge. He was not skilled with such weapons, so he had never used it—until now.

Holding the blade he had carried for years but never drawn, Han Li’s face turned grim. His earlier smile vanished completely.

He glared with loathing at the still-trembling primordial spirit. Without a word, he lunged forward and brought the sword down like a woodcutter’s axe, hacking at the orb with brutal, unrefined force.

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