Dawn arrived quietly, like every other day in Green Valley. A soft breeze rustled through bamboo leaves, and faint morning mist curled lazily over the stone pathways.
Han Li opened his eyes and slowly sat up. His body still felt strange — lighter than before — as though something inside him had awakened.
He stepped out of his small room.
Doctor Lu was already outside.
A simple breakfast had been set on the stone table — steamed buns, porridge, and a pot of warm herbal tea. Ordinary food, yet far better than anything Han Li had eaten back in the village.
Han Li hurried forward, worry flashing across his face.
"Master, why did you cook? You should call me! How can you work when I'm here?"
Doctor Lu chuckled, lifting his cup calmly.
"Hahaha, no need to worry. You are my disciple, Han Li — my only disciple. The only thing you must do… is cultivate well and reach the second tier as soon as possible."
Han Li hesitated, then lowered his head obediently.
"…Yes, Master."
He sat and began eating quietly.
--
Days turned into weeks.
Weeks into months.
Life in Green Valley settled into a steady rhythm.
Every morning, Han Li sat cross-legged beneath a willow tree, repeating the mysterious mantra Doctor Lu had given him. Sometimes his mind felt clear as still water; other times it felt like trying to grasp smoke.
Midday, Doctor Lu would hand him strange herbal pills — bitter, fragrant, yet strangely invigorating — telling him they would help his cultivation.
Afternoons were spent learning reading, writing, and medicine.
Han Li memorized the structure of human meridians, the uses of herbs, how to diagnose illnesses just by checking a pulse.
Life felt structured — almost peaceful.
And yet…
Something felt wrong.
Doctor Lu treated him far too carefully — as if he were a resource, not a child.
And the mantra…
It didn't feel like ordinary medicine training.
One late afternoon, while returning from the nearby forest after gathering herbs, Han Li suddenly heard a cry — sharp, frightened — quickly cut off.
His instincts warned him to stay away, yet curiosity pushed him forward.
He moved silently through the trees until a clearing came into view.
There stood Doctor Lu.
His sleeves fluttered slightly in the wind, and beneath him lay a man — motionless on the ground.
Han Li's breath caught.
Doctor Lu had struck him — not with a stick, not with poison — but with a technique, precise and deadly, like martial arts meant for killing.
Han Li froze behind a tree, unable to move.
Master… knows martial arts?
Then why…
Why never teach him?
Why pretend?
Why lie?
Doctor Lu bent down, searched the dead man quickly, then wiped his hands clean as if nothing unusual had happened.
Just as calmly as someone would remove weeds from a field.
Han Li stepped back silently, heart pounding.
When he was finally far enough, he leaned against a tree, staring blankly at the sky overhead.
His voice trembled as he whispered:
"…Can I really trust Master?"
For the first time since leaving home…
Han Li felt fear.
Not of cultivation,
but of the man who now controlled his future.
Han Li ran back to his small room as fast as his feet could carry him. His heart pounded wildly — louder than his footsteps, louder than the wind outside.
The moment the door closed behind him, he leaned against it, breathing shakily.
His hands were cold.
His thoughts chaotic.
He forced himself onto the bed, curled under the blanket, and shut his eyes tightly — like a frightened child hiding from a nightmare.
I didn't see anything.
I didn't hear anything.
Master is just a doctor.
Han Li kept repeating it in his mind.
Only then did sleep finally take him — long after midnight, heavy with fear.
Days blurred into weeks.
Weeks into months.
Han Li trained quietly, and pretended even more quietly.
He acted normal.
He didn't ask questions.
He didn't mention the forest.
But inside him, suspicion grew like a shadow that never faded.
Then — one morning — while practicing under the willow tree, a sudden wave of warmth surged through his meridians.
His breathing steadied.
His mind sharpened.
His Qi flowed smoothly — stronger, clearer.
His body felt renewed.
It happened.
Tier Two.
Han Li opened his eyes, stunned — and trembling with excitement.
"Master! I—I reached it!"
Doctor Lu, who had been sorting herbs nearby, froze.
Then slowly, a wide smile stretched across his face.
Not gentle.
Not proud.
But satisfied.
Almost hungry.
He rushed forward and grabbed Han Li's wrist to check his pulse.
Han Li flinched — not from pain, but from instinct.
Doctor Lu didn't notice — or pretended not to.
His grip tightened, and his eyes gleamed with a dark, intense light.
"Good… very good."
His tone was too calm — yet too thrilled.
Han Li swallowed.
Before this day, he wouldn't have noticed anything strange.
But now — after that night in the forest — the expression in Doctor Lu's eyes wasn't joy.
It was greed.
Like someone gazing at treasure.
Or prey.
Han Li forced a smile.
"…Thank you, Master."
Doctor Lu released him and turned toward his medicine shelf.
"Since you've reached Tier Two, you deserve a reward."
He placed a small wooden box into Han Li's hands.
Inside were several small jade bottles.
"These are elixirs I personally refined. Take one each day for half a month. They will stabilize your cultivation."
Han Li bowed respectfully.
"Disciple understands."
Doctor Lu nodded, satisfied.
Then unexpectedly, he added:
"…I will be leaving for a while. I must collect more herbs for your next stage."
Han Li's heart skipped.
He forced a casual tone.
"How long will Master be gone?"
Doctor Lu looked into the distance, cloak swaying in the mountain wind.
"Half a month. Perhaps longer."
He glanced back — and the softness in his voice returned, but it felt like a mask.
"Train well while I'm gone. When I return… your path will truly begin."
Han Li bowed again.
"Yes, Master."
The next morning, before the sun rose, Doctor Lu left Green Valley with his medicine bag and walking staff.
Han Li watched from behind the bamboo window as his figure disappeared into the misted mountain path.
Only when Lu was completely gone did Han Li finally exhale.
Not relief.
Not joy.
But tension suppressed too long.
He whispered to himself:
"…I don't know who you are, Master. But I can't trust you."
Yet he tightened his fist.
And lifted his gaze. Should I run, what if he harms my parents.
He wouldn't run.
Not yet.
Not until he understood everything.
Han Li carried the ring and bottle outside with the intention of finally cleaning them properly. He filled a wooden basin with warm water and scrubbed both items carefully. The bottle wasn't anything special at first glance, and the ring felt cold and dull — just old objects he thought might have belonged to Lu or someone from before.
But once washed, they looked completely different.
The bottle's jade-green surface appeared clearer and almost translucent. The ring, once rusty and dim, now showed faint, thin lines carved into it — lines he hadn't noticed before.
"They look… new," Han Li muttered softly.
Shaking his head, he placed both out on a flat rock to dry in the sunlight.
At first, everything seemed normal.
But after a few breaths, the sunlight pouring down seemed to bend — as if the ring and bottle were pulling the light in.
Han Li blinked.
"…Huh?"
The bottle and ring began glowing faintly. It wasn't bright at first, just a soft flicker — like fireflies.
Then the glow grew stronger.
The ring lifted first — floating gently a handspan into the air.
Then the bottle followed, rising beside it. The sunlight seemed to pour into them faster and faster, forming swirling threads of golden light around them.
Han Li froze, unable to speak.
The glow intensified until both objects were shining like miniature suns. Then — without warning — they pulled toward each other.
Clink.
A clear sound, sharp but not loud.
The two items merged smoothly — like water blending with water — and after just a few breaths, they had become one thing:
A bottle twice the original size, jade-green and beautiful, and around the neck was the ring — now acting like a grip or ornament. It looked like it had been crafted that way from the beginning.
Finally, the merged bottle dropped gently to the ground with a soft thud.
Even though the cap was still sealed, it continued absorbing sunlight quietly — like a living thing breathing.
Han Li stared at it for a long moment, chest tight, eyes wide.
"…This can't be normal," he whispered.
He slowly reached for the bottle — hands slightly trembling — and the strange object pulsed once with soft light, almost like acknowledgment.
What is this yellow liquid inside the bottle this is from absorption of sunlight, he tried to open but failed,
Han Li quickly hid it inside his clothes and rushed back into his room, heart beating wildly.
Whatever this bottle was…
His life would no longer remain ordinary.
May be after it absorb enough sunlight it will be able to open.