Han Li Shifting Smoke Steps

Summer passed, followed by autumn. Time passed quickly until the arranged date had finally arrived.

In the ravine of the overgrown forest, there was a strange, incomparable silhouette midst the overgrowth of the dangerously sharp and thorny branches. None of the sharp branches were able to obstruct the floating, smoke-like figure. In the thorny undergrowth, he weaved between the thick net like a fleeing demon. In a moment, he had appeared nearby; in the next, he was already a distance away. These motions were absolutely quiet, as if there were not a fleshly body but rather an incorporeal form.

Finally, this silhouette stopped on top of a tree trunk. Vertically standing at its peak, he surveyed the surrounding distance.  This was Han Li, with some success from his cultivation regime.

Currently, the clothes on his body had turned to little more than worn, tattered rags, revealing the his bare flesh. His hair was like a ruffled crow, while his face was a mixture of black and white. His original appearance couldn’t be made out. What was most astonishing were the small exquisite iron bells, each hanging from his neck, waist, arms, thighs and ankles.

Seeing these iron bells and then thinking about Han Li’s ghost-like movements in the forest, it would be hard to differentiate Han Li’s body technique from the movements of an actual demon.

Motionless, he turned his head toward the direction of God Hand Valley. He muttered to himself, “Just in time. I had just become proficient in the Shifting Smoke Steps on this final day. With this technique, I have a slightly greater assurance of self-preservation.”

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