"What should we do? Let''s run! From what you''re saying, it sounds like Yao Ji''s main body is even stronger than you. If she comes after us, we''re both done for," Han Ming said anxiously.


    The old man chuckled. "No need to rush. Her split soul was so weak; it must have only separated from her main body recently—about a year ago. If she''s in seclusion, it''ll take at least three years, or two if things go smoothly. We still have time."


    Han Ming was speechless. Weak? That split soul had completely overpowered him. Was the old man mocking him?


    "Now, about you," the old man continued, his curiosity piqued. "When I saw you fighting Yao Ji, your movements were agile, and your strength was impressive. But your technique was chaotic, no better than a street brawl. Don''t you have a master to teach you?"


    Han Ming laughed awkwardly. "Well... it wasn''t *that* bad, was it? But no, I don''t have a master. I''ve been self-taught."


    The old man gave him a disdainful look. "Self-taught? More like self-muddled. You''re not a prodigy; you''re a brute."


    Han Ming scratched his head, embarrassed.


    "By the way," the old man said, "you have seven Destruction Butterfly eggs in that pouch. As far as I know, to hatch them, they need to continuously absorb life force. But you can''t absorb life force yourself. What''s the point of carrying them around? Planning to sell them?"


    "Sell them? Of course not! Something this powerful should stay with me. If I sold them to someone with ill intentions and they hatched, it would be a disaster."


    The old man smirked, studying Han Ming until he felt uncomfortable. "So, you''re a righteous man, huh?"


    Han Ming nodded vigorously, patting his chest. "Absolutely, I am!"


    The motion aggravated the countless wounds on his chest, and he winced in pain.


    The old man shook his head, then pondered for a moment. "I won''t pry into how you plan to hatch those eggs, but I''ll give you some advice. You saw how the eggs absorbed Yao Ji''s life force. Life force and essence are essentially the same. If you let all seven eggs absorb life force together, it''ll take forever to hatch even one. Why not focus on one egg at a time? It''ll be much faster. What do you think?"


    Han Ming''s eyes lit up. That made perfect sense! Focusing on one egg would speed up the process, and once his magic improved, he could hatch the others. Why hadn''t he thought of that?


    He nodded eagerly. "You''re right! That''s a great idea."


    The old man continued, "You''re a water mage, aren''t you?"


    Han Ming was stunned. "How did you know?"


    The old man rolled his eyes. "If I couldn''t tell that much, I might as well have lived all these years for nothing."


    "Uh..."


    The old man circled Han Ming, poking and prodding him like he was inspecting a horse. He squeezed Han Ming''s arms, tapped his legs, and even tilted his head to examine his neck, alternating between nodding and shaking his head.


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    "Strange... strange... You look skinny, but you''re surprisingly strong. No combat energy, but you''ve got potential."


    He stepped back and gestured to Han Ming. "Punch me."


    Han Ming hesitated, then grinned. He''d been wanting to hit this old man for a while now.


    *Whoosh! Smack!*


    Before Han Ming''s fist could reach the old man''s face, he felt a sharp slap across his own cheek.


    "Again!" the old man said.


    Han Ming, now determined, aimed a kick at the old man''s groin—a dirty move straight out of a street fight.


    *Smack!*


    Another slap landed on his face.


    Han Ming clutched his cheek, seething with frustration.


    The old man, unfazed by the cheap shot, nodded. "If I can slap your face, I can slit your throat. You''ve died twice now."


    Humiliated, Han Ming launched into a flurry of punches and kicks, his speed and strength pushed to the limit. The air whistled as his fists and legs became a blur.


    The old man, however, stood calmly, one hand behind his back. He shifted slightly, dodging Han Ming''s attacks with ease, while his free hand darted in and out, delivering slap after slap.


    *Smack! Smack! Smack!*


    "Dead! Dead! Dead!" the old man said with each strike.


    After over a hundred exchanges, the old man finally kicked Han Ming away, sending him sprawling.


    "You''ve died over a hundred times now, and you haven''t touched me once. And you call yourself a prodigy?" the old man said with a smile.


    Han Ming scrambled to his feet, his face swollen and bloody. "You old geezer! If it weren''t for me leading Yao Ji''s split soul here, you''d never have gotten your revenge! And this is how you repay me? Beating me up like this? What''s so great about being old? If I were your age, I''d slap you silly too!"


    Tears welled up in Han Ming''s eyes—not from sadness, but from the pain of the old man''s bony hands.


    The old man chuckled. "Don''t act like you came here to save me. I can tell you were captured and just happened to stumble upon this place. If it weren''t for the animal skin I left behind, you''d be dead by now."


    Han Ming had no retort. He silently cursed the old man''s ancestors.


    "Yao Ji''s sect is full of experts, and she''s mastered my teachings. Now that her split soul is dead, she''ll stop at nothing to find the killer. I don''t care—I''ve been injured for decades and am nearing the end of my life anyway. But you... you''re still young. What a shame."


    The old man''s words were meant to provoke.


    "I can just run away! She''s in seclusion. What do I have to fear?"


    "Run? The traps in this sect were set by me and improved by Yao Ji over the years. Without a guide or a map, even I can''t escape, let alone a brat like you."


    "Then... then I''ll capture someone and force them to take me out!"


    The old man laughed. "Good luck with that. Even if you catch someone weak, each trap is guarded by experts. Unless you can fight your way through or have Yao Ji''s direct orders, you''re not going anywhere. Yao Ji''s disciples are no pushovers. Your street-fighting style won''t get you far."


    "Then what the hell am I supposed to do? Just sit here and wait to die?"


    Seeing Han Ming''s frustration, the old man finally smiled. "I doubt I''ll ever leave this place, and I have no other regrets. Since fate brought you here, how about I teach you some martial arts?"


    Han Ming''s eyes lit up. This was exactly what he wanted! The old man''s skills were incredible, and Han Ming was eager to learn.


    He nodded eagerly, like a chicken pecking at rice.


    "However, you can''t improve quickly without an opponent. Follow me."


    The old man gestured for Han Ming to follow and led him deeper into the cavern. They passed through the central chamber and arrived at a stone wall with a large opening.


    The old man entered first, and Han Ming followed.


    "Rest here for now. Tend to your wounds. I''ll be back soon. Don''t wander off."


    With that, the old man left, leaving Han Ming alone in the small cave.


    The space was simple, with only a crude stone table and a small stone bed.


    Han Ming sat on the bed, gritting his teeth as he carefully removed his torn shirt. His chest was covered in bloody claw marks, and the dried blood had glued the fabric to his skin. Every tug sent sharp pain through his body.


    "Damn it!"


    Han Ming endured the pain, tearing off the shredded fabric piece by piece. Each strip he removed made him wince and groan.


    Finally free of the ruined shirt, Han Ming closed his eyes and placed his hands over his chest. A faint glow emanated from his palms as he used water-based healing magic to slowly mend his wounds.