Chapter 65

Han Li lay reclining in the master chair once used by Master Mo, holding a scroll whose outer cover read “Classic of Longevity,” but whose true content was the incantations of the Changchun Art, reading it with great delight and complete absorption.

This scroll had once been held by Master Mo day after day, never tiring of it—a strange habit that had once puzzled Han Li. Now that he had uncovered its secret, he understood: Master Mo hadn’t been studying health preservation at all—he had been deciphering the incantations of the Changchun Art! Clearly, Master Mo had never given up hope of cultivating magic power, never fully accepted Yu Zitong’s claims about spiritual roots, and had quietly studied it on his own all along.

This secret manuscript had been discovered by Han Li hidden in a secret compartment alongside other items; it contained not only the first six layers of incantations he had previously practiced, but also the final two layers he had never seen before—a discovery that filled Han Li with excitement for a long time.

When Han Li learned that what he had been cultivating was in fact the legendary magic power capable of summoning wind and rain, his desire for the later stages of the Changchun Art grew even stronger.

After all, who wouldn’t want to become an immortal who lives forever?

It was high noon, and warm sunlight streamed through the open skylight, bathing Han Li in its glow. As he read, he half-closed his eyes in comfort, his entire body slouched in a relaxed recline, making him appear utterly languid.

Han Li lifted his head slightly, glancing at the skylight, finding the light too glaring.

He casually placed the open scroll over his face, blocking out the blinding sunlight.

Instantly, darkness enveloped his vision, bringing him great relief—and his spirits lifted. He silently memorized the seventh-layer incantation once more.

Lately, he had sensed that due to his continuous consumption of spirit herbs, the Changchun Art was showing signs of another breakthrough; he would soon enter the seventh-layer realm. Understanding the next layer’s techniques ahead of time would greatly aid his breakthrough.

It had been more than half a year since the day Master Mo attempted soul possession.

On the very next day after that event, Han Li forged a letter in Master Mo’s handwriting, claiming the old man wished to return to his hometown to visit relatives, and submitted it to the sect’s patrol Elder under Master Mo’s name.

In the letter, Han Li boldly adopted Master Mo’s tone, declaring that he had inherited all of Master Mo’s medical skills and was now qualified to treat patients independently, while Master Mo himself, due to the long journey home, could not say when he might return. He requested that the sect masters allow him to temporarily assume Master Mo’s duties until the old man’s return.

After submitting the letter, the managing Elders showed no suspicion whatsoever. Master Mo had long been absent from the mountain, spending years away collecting herbs. Though officially listed as a patron, he had, due to saving Master Wang’s life, always been a guest advisor—free to come and go as he pleased.

Yet the Elders remained skeptical about the letter’s claim that Han Li had inherited all of Master Mo’s medical skills, wavering between belief and doubt.

Master Mo had occasionally treated low-level disciples for minor ailments like colds, fevers, or sword and spear wounds, but his true expertise lay in treating senior figures—Hall Masters and Elders. Most other disciples still went to other physicians on the mountain.

Thus, the Elders did not immediately assign Han Li to Master Mo’s duties. Instead, they had him treat low-level disciples first, intending to test his true ability.

Han Li didn’t care whether the higher-ups doubted his medical skill. He had never cared who he treated; he only sought the secluded tranquility of the Divine Hand Valley and its sizable herb garden.

If he could remain in the valley and control it entirely, he could openly use the mysterious small bottle to rapidly cultivate rare herbs without fear of discovery.

Though the valley was currently his alone, if Master Mo remained absent for too long, who knew whether the sect masters or Elders might suddenly decide to reclaim it?

To prove his medical prowess, Han Li worked tirelessly treating the disciples, secretly using up the large quantities of precious herbs he cultivated daily. Thanks to his already solid medical skill and the abundance of rare herbs, he achieved a miraculous effect: nearly every patient he treated was completely cured.

As expected, his reputation as a miraculous healer exploded like thunder on a clear day, sweeping through the entire Seven Mysteries Sect. Everyone on the mountain now knew the sect had produced a young divine physician whose skill was beyond comprehension. Under his care, whether external wounds, internal injuries, or baffling illnesses, patients recovered fully within three days at most—his skill surpassed even that of the legendary Master Mo.

In truth, Han Li’s medical skill still fell far short of Master Mo’s. But Master Mo could never have wasted such vast quantities of rare herbs. From the perspective of recovery results, Han Li’s results were vastly superior.

Thus, when Han Li once again restored a severely injured disciple to full vitality within days, the higher-ups could no longer sit idle. Just one day later, they sent for him.

The one who met him this time was Ma Rong, the deputy sect master he had once briefly encountered on the Bone Refining Cliff.

This Grand Master Ma had clearly forgotten Han Li entirely—the insignificant registered disciple he had once been. Upon seeing him, he immediately offered Han Li full control of Master Mo’s duties and all his former privileges. The title of “Patron” could not yet be granted, for Han Li was far too young—only sixteen or seventeen—and could not yet command the respect of other Patrons. But his monthly stipend would be paid at the full Patron rate.

Finally, Master Ma added that if Han Li had any further demands, he should speak them openly—they would consider them fairly.

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