Han Li watched Li Feiyu's gradually fading silhouette, standing silently in place, silent. After having agreed to come the next noon to pick up the medicine, Li Feiyu had voluntarily bid him farewell, saying he would return to further recuperate. For this long period, Han Li had never asked Li Feiyu why he was taking this secret medicine. Han Li knew that even if he asked, he could not change what had already happened. Since Li Feiyu was willing to give up everything Han Li had to offer, choosing only the current glory and prestige of being "Master Li," it clearly meant he had his own compelling reasons. No one would willingly commit suicide—neither suddenly nor gradually, with high costs—no one would willingly endure such a sacrifice. If pressed to reveal his reasons, it would only force him to reopen the wounds that had nearly healed. Clearly, Han Li had made the right choice. Before leaving, Li Feiyu noticed that the other had not pressed him for the specific reasons behind his consumption of the "Drain-Spine Pills," and felt deeply grateful for his understanding. Though he didn't express it verbally, Han Li knew that the other had now accumulated a significant personal debt toward him. Han Li intended to honor their agreement—not only to keep the other's secret confidential, but also to prepare a specially formulated remedy as soon as he returned to the valley to alleviate his suffering. This decision stemmed from a simple principle: since the other had not acted with malice, nor truly intended to harm him, Han Li felt it necessary to deepen the debt he owed him, ensuring that the other would find it difficult to refuse future requests. As Li Feiyu's martial arts skills continued to grow stronger in the coming years, the greater the benefit he would bring to Han Li. Even if no immediate assistance were needed in the near future, it would still be a matter of great personal satisfaction to gently support someone who was not entirely unsympathetic. Although Li Feiyu might not necessarily be a good person, he certainly wouldn't be harmed by what had happened today. After carefully reviewing all the events from beginning to end and feeling confident that nothing had been overlooked, Han Li slowly returned to Shen Shou Valley. Soon after arriving back at the valley, Han Li began preparing the secret medicine Li Feiyu needed. This medicine, which alleviates pain perception, was not difficult to prepare—the necessary herbs could all be found in the valley's medicinal garden. However, the preparation process was somewhat intricate and required careful attention. After a busy afternoon, Han Li successfully prepared enough medicine to last Li Feiyu a full year. He didn't feel the need to prepare any more, but rather hoped that Li Feiyu would come annually to collect the medicine, so that he might not gradually forget this gesture of goodwill. By evening, Han Li suddenly sat down on a chair before his own door, gazing upward at the dark starry sky and the bright moon, lost in thought. He found himself longing once again for his family back home. Since he had left his parents four years ago, he had been diligently practicing his techniques every day since he came to the mountain, rarely finding time to think about matters at home—thus, he had never returned down the mountain. He only asked that most of the monthly silver payments be sent back to his family, and each year, he received only a letter from his elder uncle, written in his parents' name, reporting that everything at home was well. The letter contained little more than this—offering only occasional updates, rarely mentioning anything beyond the general well-being of the household. All he knew was that life at home had improved greatly—his elder brother was settled with a family, and his second brother had already agreed on a bride, with wedding arrangements expected next year. All these changes stemmed from the silver he had sent home. Yet, through several letters of greeting, he had become increasingly sensitive to the growing formality in his family’s tone toward him—sometimes even as if they were treating him like a stranger. At first, this sense of formality had filled him with fear, making him unsure of how to respond. But over time, without knowing why, this fear gradually softened into calmness, and the images of his family members began to blur in his mind. He only recalled his relatives and the warmth of home life when reminded by circumstances—such as tonight—when he found himself reflecting on the past, on the cozy atmosphere he once shared with them. This now-rare and hard-to-reach feeling brought him a deep sense of comfort and preciousness, which he would savor slowly, one moment at a time. Han Li placed his hand on his chest, using his fingers to gently stroke the small leather pouch containing the amulet through his clothing. In the past, simply stroking it a few times would have brought him a quiet sense of peace. But tonight, for some reason he couldn't explain, the act only intensified his inner restlessness, leaving him unable to settle. Now, Han Li felt an inexplicable sense of unease, his emotions uncontrollable, and his body off-kilter—his internal qi began to surge and swirl, and the strange energy he had cultivated stirred restlessly. The term "walking the fire into madness" suddenly flashed into his mind. Han Li stood up, took a deep breath, and forced himself to remain calm. With Mo Doctor away, he had to manage this crisis on his own. Yet he still found himself puzzled as to how he had suddenly developed this condition. Though it's not yet time for a deep investigation, addressing the root cause that triggered the crisis is the most practical way to fully resolve this issue. Han Li raised his head and scanned the surroundings, but found nothing particularly striking. With his right hand, he gently stroked his chin; suddenly, his elbow brushed against a firm object, and instinctively, his gaze settled on it. "A small leather pouch," "a peace talisman"—these names instantly came to mind. "Could it be this one that caused the trouble?" Han Li wasn't certain, but now he couldn't hesitate anymore—his internal condition had worsened significantly, and he felt himself losing control at any moment. He decisively reached out, pulled the pouch from his neck, and threw it far away. "No—it's worse now. The discomfort in my chest has intensified, and the surge of qi has become even more powerful." Han Li struggled to suppress the disturbances within his body once more, fixing his bloodshot eyes firmly on the small leather pouch, hoping to find the reason why things had grown worse.