A Record of A Mortal's Journey to Immortality

Chapter 12: Smashing the Bottle

“Bang!”

Han Li clenched his fists and slammed one hard onto the table.

“Use a tool to smash the bottle open.” This was the decision Han Li made after much deliberation.

Using force to open it was an approach he had long considered—a method that wasn’t really a proper solution.

Though this way was simple, straightforward, and effective, just thinking about shattering such a uniquely beautiful bottle made Han Li’s heart ache painfully. He was very reluctant to do so. If there were any other way to open it, Han Li would never resort to such a rough method.

He considered asking other senior disciples for help, but in his heart, he had already unconsciously treated this item as his own treasure. He was extremely unwilling to let others know about it. Besides, everyone on the mountain might be the original owner of this item. What if they discovered the bottle was with him and demanded it back? This little bottle was so pretty and intriguing; he simply couldn’t bear to return it.

Han Li’s curiosity had been completely piqued by the mysterious object inside the bottle. Although he knew it might just be an empty bottle, he was still willing to take the risk, betting that whatever was inside would be more interesting than the bottle itself.

The more he thought this way, the more restless and impatient he became.

If he didn’t solve the mystery inside the bottle, he wouldn’t be able to sleep soundly at night.

Having made up his mind, Han Li quietly slipped into the valley’s storage shed and selected a relatively heavy small iron hammer from among the many tools, then took it back to his room.

Back inside, he found half of an abandoned hard green brick in a corner, and a relatively flat hollow spot on the floor. He placed the brick flat there and carefully laid the bottle horizontally on top of it.

Han Li raised the hammer in his right hand, hesitated for a moment in the air, then decisively brought it down on the most protruding part of the bottle—the belly.

“Bang!”

Afraid of using too much force and damaging the contents, the first strike was light, just to test the bottle’s hardness.

Seeing no cracks at all, Han Li relaxed. It seemed he could use more force to smash the bottle.

“Bang!” Half strength.

“Bang!” Seven-tenths strength.

“Bang!” Full strength.

“Bang!” Even stronger.

Han Li’s strength increased with each strike, his arm swings becoming more exaggerated, and the hammer falling faster and faster. On the last blow, he even hammered half the bottle into the brick, yet the bottle remained completely intact, showing no sign of breaking.

Han Li was stunned. He couldn’t believe it and touched the spot struck by the hammer with his hand. There was no dent or scratch; the entire surface was still smooth and gleaming green.

This was completely beyond Han Li’s expectations.

Only now did Han Li truly realize this little bottle was no ordinary item. It definitely wasn’t deliberately discarded; most likely, the owner had accidentally lost it. Perhaps the owner was searching the mountain for it right now, and if Han Li wanted to keep it, he must guard it carefully and not let others see it.

In Han Li’s mind, as long as he hadn’t actively stolen or forcibly taken it, anything found on the ground belonged to him. If it were an ordinary item, he might have returned it to the owner. But this bottle was so mysterious—probably lost by a disciple from a wealthy family or someone with status on the mountain—and Han Li didn’t have a good impression of either group.

Han Li’s family had been poor since childhood. They often worked hard all day and sometimes didn’t have enough food for a meal. At the seven mysteries sect, he often saw the first group spending money extravagantly, indulging in luxurious food and drink. (If disciples didn’t want to eat the standard meals, they could pay extra for better dishes.) They treated money like it was nothing. Whenever Han Li saw this, he felt uncomfortable.