From that day on, a new ritual entered Han Li's life. Each dawn, he would carefully place the mysterious green bottle where the first rays of sunlight would strike it, watching the ancient glass glow with an inner light. For days, nothing changed. Then, on the third day, as his fingers casually brushed against the stopper while moving it, it turned with a faint, sighing release.
A shiver of anticipation ran down his spine. He peered inside. There, pooling at the bottom, was a thick, viscous yellow liquid. It seemed to swirl with a light of its own.
What is this? he wondered, his mind racing with possibilities. An elixir? A poison? Can I drink it?
A reckless impulse surfaced, but his inherently cautious nature swiftly crushed it.
. What if it is a refined venom that corrodes the soul? To gamble with the unknown is to dance on the edge of a blade.
A more prudent plan formed in his mind. He would test it.
He would be methodical, he would be careful. He was nowhere near reckless enough to risk his own life.
His first test was on a patch of common spirit herbs. He poured a single drop of the yellow liquid onto the soil at their roots. For a long moment, nothing happened. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
Then, it began.
A violent tremor passed through the plants. Their stems thickened, their leaves unfurled and expanded with an audible rustle, their color deepening to a vibrant, impossible jade in mere heartbeats. The air hummed with a sudden surge of vital energy.
"This is… majestic," Han Li whispered, his eyes wide with awe. The liquid didn't just nourish; it forced growth, aggressively and miraculously.
Emboldened yet still wary, he diluted a minuscule amount in a bowl of water and placed it on the ground to drink himself, thinking it might grow his tier and energy he went inside his room to get something to mix the liquid, on his way back he saw a little grey rabit has drinking it and was almost finished.
Han li huridly cried, oh no where did this rabit came from.
Well no problem, I'll prepare another portion, as he was thinking this something horror happened.
A low groan emanated from rabits small body. Before Han Li's disbelieving eyes, the creature began to swell. Its limbs distorted, its frame expanding with a sickening series of pops and cracks. Fur stretched taut over ballooning flesh. It was a horrifying, unnatural inflation.
Han Li could only watch, his blood turning to ice.
A final, wet pop echoed through the silent forest. The rabbit was gone, replaced by a fine, crimson mist and scattered viscera.
Han Li stood rooted to the spot, his face deathly pale. He stared at the spot where the creature had been, then down at the innocuous-looking green bottle in his hand. He wasn't holding a mere treasure; he was cradling a tempest—a power that could create and destroy in the same, terrible breath.
That night, Han Li lay on his small wooden bed, staring into the darkness. Sleep refused to come.
Every time he closed his eyes, the rabbit appeared — swelling, twisting, bursting.
His fingers unconsciously tightened around the edge of his blanket.
If I had drunk it myself… would I have ended the same way?
His breath trembled.
The thought alone was enough to freeze his blood.
Yet beneath that fear was another quiet whisper:
What if… I had taken less?
That question lingered in his mind like a ghost.
The following days passed in a strange silence.
On the outside, nothing had changed.
Han Li still rose early, washed his face in cold spring water, practiced the mantra under morning fog, and take rlixirs Doctor Lu gave him.
His heart had changed.
Three days after the rabbit incident, Han Li quietly left into deep forests, Mist blanketed the mountains like drifting silver silk. Dew glistened on leaves. Birds chirped softly, unaware of the secrets hidden between heaven and earth.
Han Li walked deeper into the forest, following a narrow path where no footprints remained. Finally, he reached a small clearing surrounded by ancient pines — a place hidden from casual eyes.
A secret place.
There, kneeling carefully, he pulled out several tiny seedlings — preacious and ordinary medicinal plants barely the size of a thumb.
As he touched them, an unexpected tenderness flickered in his gaze.He took out the green bottle.
Even sealed, it felt alive.
The sunlight filtering through the leaves struck its surface, and it shimmered — faint but mesmerizing.
Han Li swallowed once, steadying himself.
He uncorked the bottle and let a single diluted drop land on the soil.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then —
Wuush—
The seedlings trembled and began to grow.
In mere seconds, they stretched taller — two inches, then five — their stalks thickening into strong medicinal stems. Leaves unfolded like silk fans, rich and vibrant, pulsing with spiritual vitality.
By the time Han Li exhaled, they were fully mature herbs — something that should have taken thousands of years had taken heartbeats.
A shiver ran down his spine.
"…Incredible."
He crouched closer, brushing the leaves with his fingers.
Warm. Alive. Overflowing with essence.
If sold, each one would be worth several silver taels — perhaps even gold if an alchemist recognized its value.
Poor village boy… orphan found in the forest… insignificant in the eyes of the world… how would he knew the value of these herbs so he could think of a few tales of silver.
Han Li slowly stood, clutching the bottle close to his chest.
The wind rustled the leaves.
Han Li turned back toward Green Valley, his expression calm but resolute — a silent fire burning beneath that gentle face.
From that day onward, every few nights, he returned to this hidden clearing — planting, observing, refining.
For the next week, Han Li moved like a shadow—silent, unnoticed, always watching.
Each night, once the courtyard lamps dimmed and the outer disciples fell asleep, he slipped from his room and made his way back into the forest.
The hidden clearing was no longer barren.
Where once there had been empty soil, now rows of rare medicinal plants swayed softly, rich with spiritual fragrance. Some glowed faintly in the moonlight, others pulsed with subtle warmth — living proof of the power within the mysterious yellow liquid.
Tonight, Han Li harvested.
He knelt beside a mature stalk of Spiritgrass, its leaves long and jade-bright. With careful hands, he cut only the necessary portions, leaving enough root for the plant to regrow.
He moved from herb to herb:
Moonshade Leaves
Ironvine Root
Crimson Flame Flower
Misty Orchid Sprouts
Each plant was gathered with precision — gently placed into cloth pouches lined with preservation powder so no scent leaked out.
By the time the moon reached its highest point, Han Li's satchel was full — heavy, fragrant, and valuable beyond measure.
Back in his room, he shut the door quietly and lit a single oil lamp.
The small flame flickered, casting long shadows on the wooden walls.
He brought out an old bronze cauldron Doctor Lu had once dismissed as "too advanced" for him.
Han Li smiled faintly.
Now it seemed almost… too small.
He crushed herbs, measured powders, and refined essences with steady hands. The room smelled of bitter medicine and sweet spiritual energy.
Hours passed.
Inside the cauldron, the mixture simmered, condensed, and finally —
Ding—
A soft glow flickered.
Han Li opened the lid.
Round pills rested inside — perfectly formed.
He gently collected them and placed each into sealed jade bottles:
Restoration Pill – restores stamina and stabilizes qi flow.
Dragon Qi Pill – strengthens meridians, used only by elite disciples.
Clear Mind Pill – improves spiritual perception and mental clarity.
Vitality Pill – refines blood, improves physical strength.
More pills followed — enough for a small sect treasury.
Han Li stared at them, expression unreadable.
These pills represented power — real power.
Enough to change his life.
Enough to survive… if Doctor Lu ever showed his true intentions.
He hid them beneath a loose floorboard and covered the spot with an ordinary straw mat. Decide to take them after lu returned and not let him suspect.
No one would ever suspect.
The following days passed quietly.
Han Li no longer practiced the mantra—not because he neglected it, but because he had already reached the peak of Second Tier.
The next step—the breakthrough into the Third Tier—was only a thin membrane away.
Yet he held himself back.
Breaking through now, while being uncertain about Doctor Lu, felt reckless.
More and more, he realized something: the kind, gentle Doctor Lu… had secrets.
Why did he conceal advanced cultivation methods?
Why was he always measuring Han Li's progress so closely?
Why… did he sometimes look at Han Li the same way merchants look at rare treasure?
Han Li ate simple food, trained his body, and refined his senses — but his heart stayed guarded, coiled like a blade waiting to be drawn.
Then—on the ninth morning—
The silence of Green Valley broke.Han Li walked outside and saw an elderly figure approaching, robes fluttering, expression unreadable.
Doctor Lu had returned.
His face held the same warm smile as always — but his eyes…
His eyes gleamed with a hidden sharpness, as though he sensed something had changed in his absence.
Han Li lowered his head respectfully.
"Master," he said calmly.
Doctor Lu stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder with unusual firmness.
"Han Li," he said softly, voice gentle… yet tinged with something deeper.
"You've grown."
Han Li stood still, heart steady — expression humble and harmless.
But behind his lowered lashes…
his mind sharpened like a drawn sword.
Because for the first time—
Doctor Lu was truly paying attention.
Master what do you mean nothing, in just joking, look I've bought you sone exiliers they will help you in cultivation and you will be able to reach tier 3 so soon.