Han Li didn't have that much time to wait patiently. At most, within another four or five months, Doctor Mo would finally make him a full-scale stand. He would therefore need to have a solid defensive capability before then. Thus, he ultimately decided to focus only on a few simple, practical secret techniques that could be quickly mastered and put into use right away, postponing the rest until after he successfully emerged from this crisis. This approach greatly shortened his training period, allowing him to achieve proficiency in several rapid, accessible secret arts sooner. In fact, Han Li was well aware that even if he mastered all the secret techniques, he might still not be able to compete with his opponent. Should Doctor Mo not have been lying in their previous encounter, given his former dominant status, there were surely many more refined and sharp strategies he had not yet revealed. The level of skill he currently displayed might only represent a fraction of his true strength. Even so, whenever Han Li thought of that ethereal, ghostly grace of the doctor's movements, a shiver ran through him, and he felt an overwhelming sense of reverence and caution toward Mo. He was well aware that, within the short time he had spent under Mo's guidance, he had learned only a limited amount—his potential threat to Mo was therefore small, almost negligible. Yet, the idea of being helpless, passively controlled, was something Han Li would never allow himself to accept. He knew that should they come to physical conflict, his only chance of victory would lie in capitalizing on Mo's current underestimation of him. Only when Mo grew complacent and made a critical oversight could Han Li strike unexpectedly and gain even a slim chance of success. In the days that followed, Han Li memorized every eye-blink of the sword techniques, selected several that proved particularly useful to him at this stage, and began to study them closely, striving to discover a swift and effective path for his cultivation. After several days of intense thought, he systematically organized a complete set of cultivation techniques from the books. Achieving such a detailed task in such a short time made him particularly proud of his own efficiency. Over the following半个月, Han Li carefully handled various minor matters, ensuring everything was in place and leaving no lingering concerns. First, on a particular day, he returned the original manuscript of the scripture to Li Feiyu intact, and in doing so, shared with him the details of encountering the spies from the Wild Wolf Clan. He also mentioned the revelation regarding the kitchen steward's true identity. Upon hearing this, Li Feiyu was both astonished and delighted, immediately embracing him and repeatedly calling him "a true brother," deeply moved by Han Li's generous gift of such a significant achievement. Yet he had no idea that Han Li was currently busy saving his own life—what could he possibly do to uncover a spy when he could achieve both his goals effortlessly, while also making a smooth, favorable gesture? After attending to Li Feiyu’s matters, Han Li personally visited several master blacksmiths within the household, securing custom-made short swords with varying designs. He requested subtle, secret modifications on each sword. In addition, several unnamed components and a number of small, elegant iron bells were also ordered to be crafted as swiftly as possible, which cost him a considerable sum, leaving him with a slight pang of expense. A few days later, upon receiving the custom items from the blacksmiths, Han Li was delighted by the gleaming short swords and the delicate iron bells. He praised the blacksmiths’ craftsmanship repeatedly, feeling confident that his money had been well spent. That same night, Han Li vanished completely from his residence, leaving only a note on the bedside table: "Master Mo, please do not worry. I am not fleeing or avoiding anything. I simply feel that being in the same valley as you has been overly oppressive, hindering the cultivation of my Changle功. For this reason, I have decided to seek a quiet, secluded spot on the mountain to enter retreat and practice. You may rest assured—I will return to meet you on the same day four months from now. Han Li, respectfully." He stood up irritably, pacing back and forth in the room, frowning as he thought deeply. After several rounds of walking, he stopped and spoke to himself, "Little rabbit, though I don't know what scheme you've concocted, no matter how many tricks you play, you'll never escape my grasp. I've decided to keep you." With that, the Doctor suddenly turned around and walked to the window, where he blew a low, prolonged whistle. Instantly, a yellow-feathered unnamed bird flew in from outside, circled the room a few times, and landed gently on his shoulder. As soon as the bird settled, it began to gently rub its beak against his face, making soft, clear "gurgle" sounds. "All right," he said, "I know you're hungry. Here, have this 'Yellow Chestnut Pill'—your favorite." As soon as the doctor saw the bird, a few traces of smiles appeared on his usually serious face, and he gazed at it with a tender look. He withdrew a yellow grain of bird food from his sleeve and placed it into the little bird’s mouth. "Go now, as before, follow that person closely. As soon as he leaves this mountain range, return immediately and let me know." The doctor spoke to the bird as he would to a human. Upon tasting the food, the little bird excitedly fluttered around the room, then circled once before taking off through the window and vanishing into the sky. "Hmph! With the 'Cloud-Wing Bird,' famed for its speed—faster than an arrow shot from a powerful bow—constantly watching, I doubt you'll be able to pull off any tricks!" he muttered darkly. "Four months? I've been waiting for this very moment. It seems my plan is finally taking shape. Whoever dares to stand in my way and obstruct my progress—I shall eliminate them. God or Buddha, if they stand in my path, I shall send them to the afterlife." "Hah! Hah!" Master Mo suddenly burst into wild, uncontrolled laughter, his eyes filled with frantic passion.