Chapter 32: The Missing Ox Hand
Hours went by as Han Yu practiced under the watchful gaze of the ghostly man.
To the ghostly man, however, the entire situation was stranger than usual. No matter how much he smacked Han Yu to correct his posture or shouted at him to adjust his form, the boy never retorted—not even once. Instead, he simply did as he was told and even improved.
It made the man feel like he wasn't instructing some street urchin but rather a disciple who had already been in a sect for years.
'He just might be able to do it,' the ghostly man thought as he continued sipping the wine Han Yu had brought.
As the lesson went on, his voice grew increasingly slurred with each sip. Eventually, the guidance stopped altogether. By then, he had veered off into rambling about his past exploits.
Han Yu sighed. "He's drunk again." He shook his head. "Useless. Completely useless."
With his so-called mentor incapacitated, Han Yu shifted his focus to drying the rest of the meat he had hung in the trees, all while half-listening to the ghostly man's wild stories.
Tonight's tale was particularly ridiculous. The ghostly man claimed that over ten thousand years ago, thousands of immortal experts had united to eradicate an evil sect. According to him, the sect was so vile it used humans as puppets for battle, boasting an army of over fifty million.
And yet, somehow, these valiant cultivators had managed to defeat the entire sect.
'All fantasies,' Han Yu thought, rolling his eyes. 'Even if you combined all the kingdoms, they wouldn't be able to take on an army of that size. Where do old drunks even come up with this stuff?'
Eventually, a loud THUD signaled that the ghostly man had passed out face-first into the dirt. That was Han Yu's cue to leave.