Those who voiced their complaints were unaware that the senior monk who founded this sword technique had, during a battle in his prime, unintentionally lost his profound internal energy foundation to an opponent, rendering him incapable of further cultivating true internal energy. Fearing a decline in his standing within the monastery, he never disclosed this truth to others, instead adopting an increasingly refined and enigmatic style of martial arts that successfully concealed the fact from both senior and junior members alike. Yet, from that point on, he lacked the strength to protect himself—a fact that remained unalterable. Consequently, he became increasingly reserved and discreet, relying solely on his exceptional wisdom and tact, and thus remained undetected by others throughout this period. It was precisely during this time that the Seven-Perfected Sect reached the height of its dominance in Jingzhou. When the senior monk finally realized that his abilities could no longer be restored, overwhelmed by despair, he quietly leveraged his authority, bypassing other power holders, and dispatched his subordinates to covertly strike and weaken numerous lesser, previously unknown sects. From these sects, he seized and appropriated numerous hidden martial arts treatises, striving to discover a supreme technique that could be employed without relying on internal energy. After years of relentless gathering, he indeed uncovered many astonishing techniques, yet none of them proved suitable for his own use. He was deeply disheartened. This senior monk himself was a man of exceptional intellect and profound insight. In his moment of despondency, he unexpectedly conceived the idea of leveraging his accumulated techniques to establish a unique, personally crafted martial art. This spark of inspiration stirred him profoundly—creating a distinctive martial discipline was the lifelong dream of every martial artist—and thus, he became fully immersed, tirelessly pursuing and putting his ideas into practice. Eventually, to avoid being distracted by mundane affairs, he even entered a state of seclusion, ceasing to engage with the disputes among the various sects. Establishing a martial art proved to be an exceedingly difficult undertaking. Moreover, the martial art he sought to establish had such limited scope—it needed no true qi to function, yet had to incorporate numerous secret techniques and evolve into a profound, supreme martial achievement. The difficulty involved in creating this unprecedented skill far exceeded his initial expectations. Yet he was a man of great perseverance, and after nearly half a lifetime of relentless effort spanning several decades, this masterwork, the "Sudden Sword Manual," finally came to light. The elder was overjoyed and eagerly reported the achievement to the other members of the monastery. However, just as he had recently achieved mastery in his own martial arts, he unexpectedly discovered that the Seven-Perfected Sect had completely declined. The entire sect was now besieged by numerous large and small allied factions, and faced the imminent threat of total annihilation. This elder, now in his sixties, was both stunned and furious. At this critical moment, drawing upon the strange sword technique he had just mastered, he displayed extraordinary prowess, defeating numerous powerful adversaries in succession and compelling the remaining elite masters to retreat. Thus, he forged a bloody path through the encircling forces, enabling the Seven-Perfected Sect to break free and secure its survival—an achievement of unparalleled significance. Unfortunately, just as he had escaped the immediate peril, the elder's life force faded. His final wish was simply to entrust his meticulously crafted sword manual to the Seven-Extremes Hall before passing away. Even more regrettable was the fact that, throughout the years thereafter, no junior disciple—until Han Li—ever attempted to cultivate this technique, leaving this precious treasure hidden and unrecognized for so long. Han Li was entirely unaware of all these events. Even if he had known, he would not have been particularly moved. To him, the technique was simply suitable for his own cultivation, and potentially sufficient to ensure his survival under the care of Mu Doctor. As for its origins—by whom it was created—he cared little. Han Li had not the slightest interest. He was a man deeply grounded in reality, and would never take the time to learn about anything that offered no tangible benefit. Inside his own room, he lit an oil lamp and leaned over his wooden table, continuing to flip through one volume after another of scrolls under the dim light. He did not intend to transcribe the scrolls by hand, but instead relied on his exceptional memory to absorb and retain all of them in his mind—thus ensuring both safety from loss and confidentiality from exposure. After all, he remained highly vigilant toward Doctor Mu, never foolish enough to believe the man would leave him completely unmonitored. Should numerous copies of the scrolls appear in his room, wouldn’t that inevitably reveal his intentions and prompt Mu to take preventive measures? A small flicker of the lamp’s orange flame burst out with a soft "puff," gently reminding Han Li that it had been a long time since he’d settled down to rest. Han Li paid no attention at all. He was completely immersed in the world depicted within the scroll, his entire mind captivated by the strange techniques described in the book. As one after another, the lamp flowers cracked and burst, the figures reflected on the walls swayed and trembled, fluctuating in size and shape. Yet Han Li himself remained seated motionless, creating a striking contrast between stillness and movement—yet this contrast gave onlookers a sense of perfect harmony and unusual tranquility. As time passed in successive ten-minute intervals, the shadow behind Han Li gradually faded from clear to hazy, then slowly turned into a blank void. By the time the morning sky had fully brightened outside. Han Li had unconsciously read through the entire evening. With a sudden "snap," the final large lamp flower burst, and the oil lamp went out completely, finally rousing Han Li from his deep immersion in the book. He looked up at the extinguished lamp, then out at the bright light outside, and felt a wave of quiet sorrow. It turned out that one day, he would be so deeply devoted to studying the techniques of killing that he had truly changed from the man he used to be. Han Li sighed deeply, then stood up, twisted his neck, and moved his limbs, making each joint emit crisp "pop" sounds. Turning around, he pushed open the door and stepped outside, drawing a cool bucket of water from a nearby well, thoroughly washing his face to restore his spirit. Then, he practiced the Changchun Technique, circulating it through his body, and within no time, the fatigue of the entire evening vanished completely.