At this moment, Mo Dafu recalled the time when he had entered the room. Han Li had insisted on leaving the door open. Now, Mo Dafu realized that it was all part of Han Li's plan—to use the reflection of sunlight to his advantage. At such a young age, Han Li had already thought of such a detailed, ruthless trap, and the old veteran had fallen into it without a chance to escape. It was almost impossible to believe that someone so young could have such a sharp mind. Could Han Li be a natural-born genius, or perhaps even a reincarnated prodigy?
The more Mo Dafu thought about it, the more afraid he became. Cold sweat began to bead on his forehead. After this setback, his wariness toward Han Li had grown even deeper. He approached Han Li carefully, and for the first time, he was hesitant to make the next move.
However, Han Li, for reasons unknown, simply stared at Mo Dafu, making no attempt to attack. The two of them stood in a standoff, silently locked in a tense gaze.
After a moment of this awkward silence, Han Li suddenly broke it with a sentence that left Mo Dafu utterly dumbfounded. He froze in place, unable to believe what he had just heard.
"Mo old man, why don't we call it a truce? How about I surrender? What do you think?" Han Li said with a casual tone, his lips curling into a carefree smile. He threw his weapon onto the ground and revealed a row of white teeth in a seemingly innocent grin, adopting the expression of a simple country boy.
"Surrender?" Mo Dafu initially thought he had heard wrong. But after a moment, he quickly understood and saw Han Li's thrown weapon—his iron dart—lying on the ground. His suspicion grew, and he coldly retorted, "What kind of trick are you playing? Don't think I'll believe your lies. If you wanted to surrender, you could have done so at the start. Why wait until we've almost fought to the death?"
Han Li simply smiled and said nothing, as if acknowledging Mo Dafu's accusation without defending himself. The two lapsed into another standoff.
After a brief pause, Mo Dafu seemed to recall something particularly amusing. He suddenly bent forward, clutching his stomach, and burst into loud, uncontrollable laughter. His laughter echoed through the room, tears streaming from his eyes as he laughed heartily, almost as if he had just heard the funniest joke.
"Ha! Ha! Ha! How could I have forgotten something so important?" Mo Dafu laughed in fits, gasping for breath between chuckles. "I've been fighting you, and yet... I never realized that we were both playing right into each other's hands from the start."
Han Li furrowed his brows slightly, his calm demeanor showing no sign of concern, but then he relaxed, his gaze shifting out the window. He smiled a little wider, his tone unhurried as he said, "Old Mo, don't you think we've delayed this long enough? It's time to end it."
Mo Dafu's laughter faltered, and he paused mid-chuckle, slowly straightening up. His face returned to a more serious expression as he looked at Han Li. After a long moment, he coldly replied, "Yes, it seems like it's time to finish this."
Both of them suddenly seemed to feel an air of confidence, as though they had found the key to controlling the situation, and now they each believed victory was within their grasp.
The silence stretched on, but it was Han Li who broke it again, his voice filled with a quiet certainty. "Old Mo, do you know that your life is now in my hands?" He said this with such confidence that it made Mo Dafu's eyes widen in disbelief.
"My life is in your hands?" Mo Dafu sneered, completely unconvinced. His face was full of scorn.
"You don't feel something strange at your wound, do you?" Han Li's voice took on a hint of amusement.
"Ridiculous! I've inspected my wound carefully. There's nothing wrong!" Mo Dafu retorted immediately, but as the words left his mouth, his expression suddenly changed. He recalled the moment he had been injured—not by the short sword, but by the hidden, sharp dart.
"I see you've figured it out, Old Mo," Han Li said with a smile, his eyes gleaming with quiet triumph.
Mo Dafu was clearly shaken, but he quickly regained his composure. "Even so, so what? Don't forget that you learned your medicinal techniques from me. What poison could I not cure?"
Han Li's grin widened, but he shook his head slowly. "Heh, I forgot to mention it. The weapon I coated with poison was 'Binding Fragrance Silk.'"
"Binding Fragrance Silk?" Mo Dafu's voice faltered, his face betraying surprise. This was the last thing he had expected.
"Yes, Old Mo, you must be familiar with the potency of this poison, right?" Han Li teased, his tone leisurely and mocking.
"Impossible!" Mo Dafu scoffed, shaking his head. "How could you possibly make such a poison? I never even shared the formula with you!"
Despite his outward defiance, the unease inside him grew. He could already feel something strange spreading from his wound, and the sense of dread was beginning to take root.
Han Li, unbothered by Mo Dafu's protests, sighed and explained with a knowing smile, "You seem to have forgotten, but your medical books were wide open to me. The formula for this particular poison was hidden in one of those obscure books. If I hadn't been diligent in reading, I might have missed it too."
Mo Dafu's mind immediately raced back to the time when he had obtained the recipe for 'Binding Fragrance Silk.' The formula had been buried in a rare book, and because the ingredients and preparation were so complicated, he had written the formula down on a piece of paper and slipped it into one of his books. He had long since forgotten about it, and now, it was this oversight that had led to his downfall.
"Looks like we need to sit down and have a proper discussion about how we can resolve this," Han Li said confidently.
Mo Dafu scoffed, trying to ignore the unease gnawing at him. He forced himself to focus on the poison's formula, recalling the effects and preparation process of 'Binding Fragrance Silk.'
The name 'Binding Fragrance Silk' might sound harmless, even romantic, evoking thoughts of pleasant fragrances or alluring scents. But in reality, the poison was as insidious as a woman's unrequited love, gradually winding its way deep into the victim's body, slowly draining their strength with every passing moment.