Han Li, a Mortal's Story of Immortality

Qingniu Village is located at the foot of the Cangwu Mountains. The morning mist envelopes the land, and the mountains in the distance are looming, like an ink painting. Han Li squatted by the stream and dipped his hands in the cold water. He is sixteen years old, with a thin build and tanned skin from years of hard work. He picked up a handful of water and splashed it on his face, the cold touch refreshing him. "Xiao Li!" Mother's call came from a distance, "It's time to go to the pharmacy!" "Here we come!" Han Li stood up and patted the dust on his coarse clothes. His fingers were long, with distinct knuckles, and his palms were covered with calluses. These cocoons are the imprints left by his years of collecting herbs, chopping firewood, and doing farm work. Han Li walked quickly to the medicine shop at the entrance of the village. On the way, he met several villagers who had gotten up early, and he greeted them all one by one. Qingniu Village is not big, with about a hundred households all familiar with each other. Han Li grew up here since he was a child and is very familiar with every plant and tree in the village. In the medicine shop, Doctor Li is sorting out medicinal materials. Seeing Han Li come in, he said without raising his head: "I'm going to pick some perilla leaves today. Remember to bring dew with them." "Yes, Master." Han Li responded respectfully. He took off the medicine basket and medicine hoe from the wall, and then checked the dry food and water bag he carried with him. When he walked out of the medicine shop, Han Li noticed a few strangers standing under the large locust tree at the entrance of the village. They were dressed in green robes, with swords on their waists, and there was an extraordinary air of dignity in their movements. Han Li