Published: August 15, 2025
Chapter 62: The Deal
One by one, strange, familiar, or unfamiliar items were pulled out by Han Li, who sorted them into two piles according to their level of suspicion, placing them to the side.
He gradually became somewhat amazed—Doctor Mo really carried a lot of miscellaneous things, many of which were clearly lethal.
A tube containing a sleeve arrow that kills upon drawing blood.
A pouch filled with poisoned sand soaked in snake venom.
More than a dozen incredibly sharp boomerangs.
...
As the number of items increased, Han Li’s breathing grew a bit rapid. The more carefully he searched, the more alarmed he felt.
Only now did he realize how lucky he had been when he first fought Doctor Mo. If the latter had intended to kill him outright rather than just capture him alive, Han Li probably wouldn’t have survived.
Wiping the cold sweat from his face, Han Li mocked himself: “A living person like me, actually scared stiff by a dead man’s possessions.”
Finally finishing the search, Han Li began to examine, one by one, the items he considered suspicious.
“This small bottle smells awful. Seems like some kind of antidote. Should be harmless.”
“This strange weapon looks like a little wheel. Don’t know what it’s for, but it probably has nothing to do with the burly man. I’ll set it aside for now.”
“As for this sachet...”
Han Li fiddled with the item, talking to himself with evident enthusiasm. In his hand was a simple sachet embroidered with plain white silk flowers.
Ordinarily, such an ordinary sachet wouldn’t raise suspicion. But Han Li felt that while a common person carrying it was normal, for a warlord like Doctor Mo to have it was unusual.
Han Li first weighed it in one hand, finding it light; it probably didn’t contain anything heavy. Then he pinched it, sensing a paper-like texture inside, as if some pages were hidden within.
His spirits lifted. He opened the sachet and, unsurprisingly, found several sheets of paper inside.
He glanced over them briefly—it was Doctor Mo’s handwriting, which gave Han Li some clues. Looking more closely, Han Li was stunned: it was a last will left by Doctor Mo for him.
Han Li was somewhat puzzled, curiosity rising sharply. He picked up the sheets and read them carefully.
After reading, Han Li let out a long, heavy sigh, then furrowed his brow deeply, his mind weighed down with thoughts.
He folded his arms behind his back and paced like an old man, starting to walk unconsciously. Every two steps, he would stop to contemplate something, unable to make a decision, then walk a few steps again before stopping to think some more.
Unconsciously, Han Li circled around Doctor Mo’s corpse like a donkey grinding in a mill. His expression fluctuated—sometimes flushing red, sometimes paling white—showing inner turmoil he couldn’t control.
If Li Feiyu were to see Han Li acting like this, he would probably burst out laughing loudly.
The reason Han Li was like this all stemmed from the terrible bad news and the dilemma the last will had left him: the antidote to the Corpse Insect Pill was actually poisonous, a rare kind of yin poison. According to the letter, this poison could only be cured by the family heirloom called the warm sun jade; there was no other antidote, not even the legendary holy medicines.
Thus, in these few pages, Doctor Mo clearly explained that the will and the poison he had implanted earlier were his last resort in case things went wrong—if his attempt to take over another’s body failed or some accident happened, the one most likely to survive was Han Li.
For the sake of affairs after his death, he planned a simple deal with Han Li through the letter, aiming for a win-win outcome: to relieve his worries and yet grant Han Li a large fortune and countless benefits.
As for whether Yu Zitong would be the last survivor, Doctor Mo hadn’t considered it at all. In the letter, he spoke disdainfully of Yu Zitong, saying he was cold-hearted and cowardly, with only a bit of cunning. Even as an immortal cultivator, Yu Zitong wouldn’t amount to much, and he would never be the one laughing last.