“Ooh!” Han Li raised one hand high, clenched his fist tightly, and shouted with excitement. At this moment, his childlike nature was unmistakably evident. It seemed that his assumption had been correct: closed doors and windows hindered the bottle’s ability to attract the light filaments; only in open, unobstructed spaces did the bottle truly draw these filaments, forming larger clusters of glowing light. Though he still didn’t understand where the filaments originated or what purpose the bottle served in absorbing them, this development had clearly advanced him significantly toward unraveling the mystery. Han Li now felt that he was on the verge of deciphering the secret of the bottle—this made him especially enthusiastic. Only when dawn began to break did the light around the bottle gradually fade and return to stillness. Throughout this time, Han Li observed the changes in the bottle attentively while also constantly keeping an eye out not to be noticed by others. He bent down and picked up the bottle, checked it over carefully. Compared with before, nothing had changed—the lid remained firmly sealed, unyielding and impossible to open. Han Li was disappointed, but as daylight grew late, he reluctantly placed the bottle away. He still needed to return to the stone chamber for meditation and practice. For several consecutive nights, at a specific time each evening, the same unusual phenomenon occurred: countless filaments of light, like moths drawn to flame, were attracted toward the bottle. Then they transformed into dense clusters of small glowing points, which the bottle eagerly absorbed. Just when Han Li thought this phenomenon would occur daily on the bottle’s surface, something unexpected happened by the eighth day. Upon arriving at his usual spot, placing the bottle down as before, he found that the absorption of light dots lasted only for a brief half-hour—then abruptly ceased. Immediately afterward, the bottle’s deep green patterns suddenly radiated an intense green glow and several golden characters or symbols began to appear on its surface. These strange inscriptions were elegant in form, with unique strokes that carried an unmistakable ancient charm—and they continuously shimmered and danced across the surface of the bottle. This unusual phenomenon lasted only a fleeting moment before vanishing entirely, leaving behind just a few raised golden glyphs as if all had returned to their original state. After these days of remarkable events on the bottle, Han Li no longer reacted with astonishment as he once did. Even more extraordinary occurrences now failed to overwhelm him. With great indifference, he picked up the bottle and instinctively tried to open the lid. To his surprise, it came off effortlessly—light and seamless—with no effort at all. Incredulous, Han Li stared at the lid in his hands. Could it be possible that, with such little skill or technique, he had so easily resolved this long-standing difficulty—a problem that had puzzled him for several days? Only after confirming that what he was seeing was indeed real—now that the secret of the bottle lay clearly before him—did Han Li’s excitement surge anew. He leaned forward and brought his eyes close to the mouth of the bottle, gazing inside. Inside, a droplet of jade-green liquid, roughly the size of a soybean, rolled slowly along the interior wall, casting an ethereal green hue across the entire surface. What in the world was this? Han Li felt somewhat let down. After all his effort, he had only obtained something unremarkable. With resignation, he sealed the lid and stored the bottle in his leather satchel, then turned toward his home, having completely forgotten the earlier excitement. Though now the lid had been opened, the outcome fell far short of his expectations. Han Li decided to return later, when idle, to investigate the secrets of this single droplet—perhaps it would reveal a small surprise! At present, his only task was—to go back and get some well-deserved rest. These past days, he had struggled with poor sleep each night, which significantly reduced his daily meditation efficiency and left him mentally drained. This condition had already prompted inquiries from Doctor Mo. Since Han Li had become Doctor Mo’s personal disciple and broken through the first level of the technique, he often felt a lack of motivation in practicing it. Moreover, the results of the practice were not satisfying enough to inspire enthusiasm—how could he possibly stay motivated? For this reason, Doctor Mo scolded him severely. Yet whenever it came time for meditation, Han Li still drifted off into drowsiness, listless and uninspired. This pattern frustrated Doctor Mo so much that he began to wonder whether he had made the wrong choice of student. As he reflected on this, Han Li also felt a sense of frustration—neither did he wish to be this way nor was he able to shake it off. What Han Li hadn’t anticipated was that, upon returning home and sleeping soundly the next day, he resumed his efforts with renewed vigor and full commitment—now fully immersed in intense training. This transformation was sparked simply by a casual remark from Doctor Mo. “Each time you advance one level in mastering this technique, I will double your monthly payment of silver coins.” Only then did Doctor Mo recognize Han Li’s deep desire for financial rewards. With this single, clear statement, he had effectively bound Han Li to the path of relentless practice. In the days that followed, Han Li devoted himself tirelessly to mastering the next level of the technique. Each day, from morning until noon and again from noon until evening, he entered the stone chamber twice daily for meditation—leading a life of routine, monotonous yet consistent, setting aside all other concerns. To ensure that external distractions did not interfere with his training, Doctor Mo temporarily sealed off the entire Shen Shou Valley—the very place where medical consultations were now conducted outside and where Han Li no longer needed to worry about daily expenses or household needs. Gradually, the matter of the bottle faded from Han Li’s mind. As autumn gave way to winter, spring passed into summer. Time passed swiftly—four years had elapsed. Now Han Li was fourteen years old. He had grown into a dark-complexioned, quiet, and resolute country boy—indistinguishable in appearance from other ordinary farm youths. Neither particularly handsome nor graceful or elegant, he remained unremarkable on the surface. Yet each day he moved between his stone chamber residence and home, occasionally visiting Doctor Mo to learn some medical techniques, and sometimes browsing through various books stored in his room. Thus, the entire valley became his world—and by steady progress, he had naturally reached the third level of his technique. ------------