"Your thoughts are simply too lively. If they could move freely and wildly, I'd be in serious trouble." Doctor Mo spoke calmly. Then, he extended one arm, effortlessly lifted Han Li, and stepped out of the room. Though the sun outside remained intensely hot, Han Li had the impression that he had been inside the room for a long time—yet it had actually only been a brief moment. Doctor Mo carried Han Li as if he were holding a simple object, strolling leisurely through the medicinal garden beside the room, and eventually reached a remote stone wall. The massive man followed silently behind, like his shadow, never straying more than a step away. Through his eyes, Han Li clearly saw that a stone pavilion had been constructed at his side—something he had never seen before. It resembled the stone chamber where he had previously meditated, both built entirely of stone. The only difference was that the outer walls had been simply brushed with a layer of lime plaster. Judging from the materials used, although the construction appeared somewhat rough, it was clearly recently completed—had he still a sense of smell, he would surely still detect a sharp scent of lime water. "Iron Slave, stay outside. If any stranger approaches this house, eliminate them without hesitation," the Doctor of Ink issued a stern command, clearly fearing an unforeseen incident that might spoil his plans. The stone door opened easily, and he stepped inside without hesitation, then naturally closed it behind him—indicating that he was already familiar with the house, likely having built it himself. The stone house was completely enclosed, with no windows. After closing the door, Han Li had expected the interior to be dark and dim, barely visible at all. Yet what he saw instead was a variety of oil lamps and candles of different thicknesses lit throughout the space. Even though the area was only modest in size, it was brilliantly illuminated, with stacks of candle flames, shining as brightly as daylight. The scene inside the hall left Han Li speechless. Indeed, he now had issues even attempting to speak. Yet all of this was secondary—what truly unsettled him most was a strange pattern, several zhang in diameter, drawn right at the center of the entire stone hall. The pattern appeared to have been created by spreading a fine powder, though the exact nature of the powder remained unknown to Han Li, as he could not approach closely enough to examine it. Around the edges of the pattern, several pieces of jade, each about the size of a clenched fist, were embedded. Under the candlelight, the jade shone with a clear, translucent brilliance, clearly a rare find. Should a connoisseur of such fine materials witness this, they would surely be distressed—such fine original jade, so poorly set into the stone floor, might leave them unable to sleep for days. Han Li was gazing in deep contemplation, hidden within his body, when suddenly he heard a soft "thump"—and then his body was thrown right into the center of the pattern, landing face-up on the ground, with only the ceiling visible above. Han Li felt a bit anxious. At this crucial moment, he couldn't see a single movement of Mo Doctor, and how could he possibly feel at ease? Though human is always at the mercy of the butcher, he had no choice but to console himself. Fortunately, he wasn't facing downward—otherwise, he'd have nothing to look at but the roof. Still, Doctor Mo had forgotten so quickly. He was stuck with that damned yellow paper, completely unable to speak. "There's no issue at all—did the 'Seven Ghosts Devouring the Soul Method' and the 'Stabilizing Spirit Seal' I passed on to you earlier ever turn out to be false?" A voice, unfamiliar, suddenly appeared in the room. The tone sounded young, barely in his twenties. Han Li felt numb. The strange things he'd experienced today far surpassed anything he'd heard in the past few years. Now, another voice breaking in seemed utterly ordinary. "Hmph! Useful in the beginning—what good is that?" Mo Doctor spat out a stream of curses, which surprised Han Li greatly. In the past, such language wouldn't have been remarkable. But now, considering Mo's current refined appearance, speaking such coarse remarks, Han Li found himself having to smile through the discomfort. "If you deliberately held back something crucial at the last moment, setting me up for a trap, then who would I go to?" "Before the young man could reply, Doctor Mo continued, speaking without pause: 'You need not hesitate—step forward as guarantor. After all, you should have already been dead, and the very person who killed you is me. Can you not harbor any resentment? Can you not have secretly deceived me?' Doctor Mo's relentless questioning left the young man with no room to respond, as though he were pouring out all his inner anxieties. Following this, there was only the sound of Doctor Mo's heavy breathing, and a long silence—so profound that for a while, not a single word came from the young man. Han Li, listening to these words, felt a sudden chill. This young man, who had suddenly appeared, seemed to have died once before—was he perhaps a ghost? Moreover, from their conversation, it became clear that the unusual technique Doctor Mo had employed had been drawn directly from this very person." "What then shall I do? I have already sworn an oath on behalf of my ancestors, my parents, my entire family, and even my entire clan—can this not satisfy you?" The young man finally spoke with growing frustration. Han Li's heart sank—this youth was truly desperate, willing to sacrifice so many close relatives merely to gain the trust of Doctor Mo. It was clear he was inherently cold and unfeeling. The gentle sympathy he had felt, born of shared suffering, vanished entirely. "Indeed, I cannot do anything more to you. Your physical body is gone, and only your spirit remains, confined to this world, day after day. Compared to complete dissolution of soul and body, you are not much better off," said Doctor Mo, his tone softening—clearly, he did not wish to escalate the conflict.