Han Li lowered his head, considering his options. It seemed that refusing to let Mo Dafu check his progress now would be impossible. Mo Dafu had already shown his sincerity by giving him the antidote, and if Han Li hesitated now, it would raise suspicions. The last thing he wanted was for Mo Dafu to think that he hadn't really reached the fourth level of Changchun Gong, or worse, that he was lying to him. If that happened, everything could spiral out of control and turn hostile.
Moreover, Han Li had anticipated this moment and prepared for it. Even if Mo Dafu tried to double-cross him as soon as he performed the pulse-check, Han Li had ways to escape.
With these thoughts in mind, Han Li raised his eyes and met Mo Dafu's gaze, his expression hardening. "Mo Lao, seeing as you've been so upfront with the antidote, I'll trust you one last time. I hope you don't disappoint me."
He extended his right wrist cautiously, keeping a watchful eye on Mo Dafu's reaction. If anything seemed off, he would immediately retract his hand.
Mo Dafu didn't react with surprise, only maintaining a fake smile. He raised his eyebrows slightly at Han Li's words, but the expression quickly returned to one of self-assurance, as if he had been expecting this response all along.
Without further hesitation, Mo Dafu extended his dry, calloused left hand and placed it on Han Li's wrist. His smile gradually faded, becoming more serious, and a sense of solemnity hung in the air, as though he were performing some sacred ritual.
Han Li kept his guard up, maintaining his fourth-level Changchun Gong cultivation. The sudden shift in Mo Dafu's demeanor made Han Li's instincts kick into overdrive. His left hand subtly moved towards the hilt of a short sword sheathed at his waist.
Slowly, Mo Dafu's face shifted from neutral to one of genuine delight as he sensed the flowing energy within Han Li's meridians. The intensity of the energy far exceeded his expectations. Even an experienced strategist like Mo Dafu couldn't suppress the joy that rose within him. The smile on his face was no longer forced—this one was the result of his years of careful planning coming to fruition.
"Wonderful! It's really the fourth level of Changchun Gong! Haha! Haha! This is fantastic!" Mo Dafu burst out laughing, his voice booming across the room. The sound reverberated off the walls, but his hand remained firmly on Han Li's wrist, refusing to let go.
Han Li's face darkened, a warning bell ringing in his mind. "Mo Lao, what are you doing? Shouldn't you let go now?" he said, his voice laced with cold fury. He tried to yank his hand back with all his strength, but Mo Dafu's grip was ironclad, unyielding.
"Let go? Fine, I'll let go!" Mo Dafu's laughter suddenly ceased, and his face contorted into a vicious sneer. He bellowed, "Hah!"
The sound was like a thunderclap in Han Li's ears. His vision blurred, his mind fogged, and his body lost all strength. Before he could react, he collapsed to the floor, unable to even hold onto the sword at his waist.
"Shit!" Despite his body's refusal to respond, Han Li's mind remained sharp. He realized in an instant that he had underestimated Mo Dafu's ability. His grip on the situation had been lost, and now he could only wait passively.
"You're still too green," Mo Dafu sneered, seeing that his move had worked perfectly. He couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph at the ease with which he had subdued Han Li.
Mo Dafu jerked Han Li by the arm, pulling him roughly to his feet before leaning in close. He reached out with his right hand, his index finger aimed at a pressure point on Han Li's chest.
With a loud thunk, Mo Dafu's finger collided with something hard. The sound of the impact was like hitting iron, and his finger recoiled in pain. His expression froze as he felt something strange under Han Li's clothing.
"What the hell?" Mo Dafu thought in shock. "Did he wear some kind of armor underneath?"
His eyes darted across Han Li's thin clothes, and he couldn't figure out what was wrong. There was no indication that Han Li was wearing any protective gear, and Mo Dafu's confusion grew.
In that brief moment of distraction, Han Li's incredible regenerative ability kicked in. The Changchun Gong, now at the sixth level, had granted him an unprecedented rate of recovery. His body, which had seemed paralyzed only moments ago, regained control far more quickly than Mo Dafu had anticipated.
Han Li felt his body come back under his command faster than expected. The sixth level of Changchun Gong had provided him with remarkable healing capabilities, far surpassing what Mo Dafu had expected.
Meanwhile, Mo Dafu was still trying to process the odd feeling in his hand when he realized that Han Li's wrist, which he had been holding with such iron resolve, had turned as slippery as an eel. His fingers could no longer maintain their grip. He pulled harder, but with a sudden whoosh, Han Li's hand slipped right out of his grasp, leaving him bewildered.
Before Mo Dafu could react, Han Li executed a quick roll, springing to his feet and scrambling across the room to the far corner. Once he was at a safe distance, he slowly rose to his feet, his eyes locked onto Mo Dafu with cold, unyielding resolve.
His face was emotionless, and his gaze unwavering. Han Li no longer felt the need to hide his hostility. He was done with Mo Dafu's manipulations.
"Enough talk," Han Li said, his voice icy. "I don't know what you want, but it's clear you have no good intentions toward me. This time, one of us will walk out of this room alive."
Han Li's hand moved to the hilt of his short sword, pulling it from its sheath with a soft swish. The blade gleamed with a sharp, cold light, a perfect weapon for the task at hand.
The tension in the room grew thick, as both men knew that the moment had arrived: a life-and-death struggle, where only one would survive.