Body command feeding world

The sun had not yet set, but the sky had already darkened.

A thick, impenetrable black fog surged forth from the mountains outside Qinglu Village, flooding the fields and climbing the wooden houses like a tide, instantly engulfing half the sky. It was no ordinary fog, but a malevolent, bluish-black fog, chilling to the bone. Wherever it passed, vegetation withered instantly, and chickens and dogs wailed and collapsed, convulsing, black blood gushing from their mouths and noses.

Wu Wei had just returned to the edge of the village from the valley when he was caught in the sudden onslaught of the malevolent mist. The biting cold seeped into his body through his pores, causing even his Yang Flame Blood Essence to churn violently as he barely managed to resist the corrosive influence. His pupils constricted sharply, and his hand gripping the iron spear tightened instantly—the concentration of this malevolent mist was a hundred times greater than that of the Shadow Fiend's gloom, and it was definitely not something that a low-level malevolent spirit could cause.

"This is a malevolent mist stirred up by a type of evil spirit called 'Child Demon.' Be careful, as it contains a 'Little White Child,' who is quite intelligent and adept at using illusions and sneak attacks." Shu's thoughts were unusually solemn. "This mist can weaken the power of ultimate yang, and your Yang Flame Blood Essence will be suppressed."

The evil mist spread at an astonishing speed, enveloping the entire Qinglu Village in the blink of an eye. The village, which was originally filled with the smoke of cooking fires, was instantly shrouded in deathly silence and fear. The screams, cries, and loud crashes of wooden doors being smashed echoed in the evil mist, but were quickly drowned out by a strange "giggle" laugh.

The laughter was as clear as a child's, yet it carried an indescribable chill, drifting erratically in the ominous mist, sometimes in the east, sometimes in the west, making it impossible to determine its source.

"Help! Help me!"

A piercing cry for help came from the east end of the village. Wu Wei looked in the direction of the sound and saw a small figure dressed in white chasing a fleeing couple through the eerie mist. The figure was no more than three feet tall, resembling a three-year-old child, with a face as pale as paper and eyes that were pitch black without pupils. It was the Little White Child that Shu had mentioned. It moved with seemingly slow steps, yet it always managed to accurately block the couple's path. Its three-inch-long, bluish-black fingernails gleamed eerily, and with each swipe of its claws, it left deep, bone-revealing wounds on the couple.

"Giggle... Let's play hide-and-seek..." The little white creature's voice was soft and sweet, yet it carried a chilling malice. It chased after the woman who had fallen to the ground, extending its sharp claws to grab at her neck.

"No!" The woman's husband roared and lunged forward, trying to protect his wife, but Little White Child lashed out with his claws, tearing open her chest. Blood gushed out, staining the evil mist red. The woman's husband groaned and collapsed to the ground, convulsing. His heart, which had been ripped out, was held in Little White Child's hand and was still beating slightly.

The little white creature lowered its head and bit into its heart. Dark blood flowed down its lips, but a satisfied smile appeared on its face, and it laughed "giggle" loudly.

Wu Wei stood in the malevolent mist, his body ice-cold. Not because of the mist's chilling cold, but because of the bloodshed and cruelty before him. He had witnessed killing and been betrayed, his hands stained with blood, but this kind of ruthless slaughter, this kind of demonic act performed in the form of a child, still sent an indescribable chill through him.

The villagers were like lambs to the slaughter in the evil fog, powerless to resist. Uncle Li rushed out with a wood-chopping knife, trying to protect his grandson, but Xiao Bai Tong darted behind him and pierced his chest with sharp claws. The old man's body went limp and fell down. The grandson's cries stopped abruptly, leaving only a faint sound of bones breaking.

Aunt Zhang held Ya Ya in her arms, hiding inside the house, desperately covering her daughter's mouth, but Little White Boy burst through the wall. The small figure stood before the bed, its dark eyes fixed on Ya Ya, and with sharp claws, easily slashed Aunt Zhang's arm. Aunt Zhang screamed, shielding Ya Ya beneath her, but Little White Boy calmly crouched down, tearing at her flesh bit by bit with its claws, blood soaking the bed.

"Mother! Mother!" Ya Ya's cries were heart-wrenching, but they were drowned out by Aunt Zhang's muffled groans. With her last ounce of strength, Aunt Zhang pushed Ya Ya towards the bottom of the bed, hoarsely shouting, "Run! Ya Ya, run!"

Enraged, the little white dog plunged its claws into the back of Aunt Zhang's head. Aunt Zhang's body instantly stiffened, and blood flowed down the bed, dripping onto Ya Ya's face. Ya Ya trembled with fear, but bit her lip tightly. Following her mother's instructions, she crawled out through the dog hole under the bed and ran wildly towards Wu Wei's wooden house at the west end of the village.

"Hehe... Little girl, don't run away..." The little white creature's voice rang out behind her, tinged with mocking malice. It didn't chase after her immediately, but instead slowly and methodically gnawed at Aunt Zhang's corpse until Ya Ya ran out of the wooden house, at which point it transformed into a white shadow and leisurely followed.

Wu Wei happened to witness this scene. When he saw Ya Ya, covered in blood and barefoot, running wildly through the ominous fog, followed by that deadly white shadow, the sorrow in his heart was instantly replaced by a strong tremor. This child had once squatted in front of his house and handed him a bunch of wildflowers covered in morning dew; had once timidly invited him to come home for soup; had once quietly defended him when the villagers criticized him.

She was just a child, an innocent child who still had goodwill towards the world.

"No!"

Wu Wei let out a low roar, the first time he had uttered such an emotional sound since his soul transmigrated here. His Yang Flame Blood Essence surged wildly within him, breaking through the suppression of the evil mist. Golden light erupted around him, like a blazing sun, dispelling the surrounding chill. He brandished his iron spear, transforming into a blur as he charged towards Ya Ya's direction.

"Hehe... Another one playing games..." The little white boy behind him sensed the threat, stopped chasing, turned his dark eyes to Wu Wei, and curled his lips into a strange smile.

Wu Wei ignored her; his eyes were fixed on the small figure staggering through the mist. Ya Ya could run no more and collapsed on the edge of the field, her small, blood-stained hands bracing against the ground. She looked back at the approaching little white child, her eyes filled with despair.

Just as the little white boy's sharp claws were about to touch Ya Ya, Wu Wei arrived.

"Flame-Splittering Spear!"

The golden spear light shot out like lightning, heading straight for Xiaobai Tong's face. Xiaobai Tong's expression changed slightly, and he hurriedly retreated, avoiding this fatal blow. His sharp claws grazed Ya Ya's hair, pulling up a few strands.

"Brother Wu Wei..." Ya Ya looked up and saw the familiar figure. Tears welled up instantly, and she choked as she rushed towards him.

Wu Wei shielded Ya Ya behind him, his iron spear held horizontally in front of his chest, its tip gleaming with a sharp golden light as his Yang Flame Blood Essence flowed. He stared at the little white child, his eyes icy cold, his aura as sharp as a drawn spear, carrying an unyielding killing intent: "Your opponent is me."

"Hehe...you troublesome fellow..." Little White Boy's voice turned shrill, a hint of ferocity flashing in its dark eyes. Ignoring Ya Ya, it turned and pounced on Wu Wei, its claws and teeth striking with deadly force, each move carrying a potent venom.

Wu Wei shoved Ya Ya into the pile of firewood behind him and said in a deep voice, "Hide well, and don't come out!"

After saying that, he charged towards the little white child. The two fought fiercely in the evil mist. Wu Wei's spear skills were fierce and sharp, and his Yang Flame Blood Essence restrained the evil spirits. Every attack forced the little white child back. However, the little white child was extremely fast and could pass through walls at short distances. Under the cover of the evil mist, he appeared and disappeared unpredictably, making it difficult for him to lock onto his target.

"Hehe... You can't hit me, can you..." The little white child's laughter echoed in the evil mist. It circled behind Wu Wei and its sharp claws reached for his back.

Wu Wei suddenly turned around, thrusting his iron spear out with a backhand motion. The golden light condensed by the "Illusion-Breaking Spear" accurately pierced Xiao Bai Tong's claws. Upon seeing this, Xiao Bai Tong hurriedly withdrew his hand, but was still grazed by the spear light, letting out a shrill scream. One of his bluish-black fingernails broke off, and dark blood dripped down.

"Ouch! You're hurting me!" The little white creature's voice became shrill. It stopped dodging and pounced on Wu Wei frantically, its attacks becoming increasingly fierce.

Wu Wei remained calm and composed, his iron spear spinning rapidly in his hands, his Yang Flame Blood Essence continuously erupting to form a golden defensive barrier. He could sense that the little white child's strength was comparable to his own. Under the suppression of the evil mist, his Yang Flame Blood Essence could not be fully utilized, while the little white child seemed to be in its element, growing stronger with each battle.

"Burning Fiend Spear!"

Wu Wei suddenly spun around, his iron spear sweeping out horizontally. The Yang Flame Blood Essence spread into a semi-circular curtain of flame, forcing back the charging little white child. The curtain of flame scorched the evil mist, making a "sizzling" sound. The little white child was grazed by the curtain of flame, and its white clothes instantly burst into golden flames. It screamed and rolled around, extinguishing the flames. Its skin and flesh were charred black.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Wu Wei lunged forward, his spear tip aimed straight at Xiao Baitong's chest. A flicker of fear crossed Xiao Baitong's eyes. He vanished through the wall and hid in a nearby wooden hut. Wu Wei followed closely behind, rushing into the hut, only to find it empty, littered with blood and bits of flesh. Xiao Baitong had already disappeared into the evil mist.

He stepped out of the wooden hut and immediately ran towards the pile of firewood. Ya Ya, huddled inside, trembling all over, only dared to peek out when she saw him return, her eyes brimming with tears, saying, "Brother Wu Wei, my mother... my mother..."

Wu Wei crouched down and gently patted her back, his voice softer than ever before: "I know."

He didn't say much; some pain doesn't need words to comfort. Wu Wei took off his coat and wrapped it around Ya Ya, then picked her up. The little one was very light and cold, yet she clung tightly to his coat as if grasping at a last straw.

Wu Wei, holding Ya Ya, turned and looked towards the village. The evil mist still lingered, and the screams from the village had completely disappeared. He looked around and saw the corpses of villagers everywhere. Some had their chests torn open, some had their necks snapped, and some were mutilated beyond recognition. Blood stained the ground, mixing with the bluish-black evil mist and emitting a nauseating stench.

Uncle Li's body lay beside the vegetable garden, his hand still clutching a machete. His grandson's body was curled up beside him, his small body covered in claw marks. Aunt Zhang's body stood guard in front of the bed, her eyes wide open, as if still worried about her daughter's safety. Zhao Hu and the members of the hunting team lay scattered in the center of the village, their bodies cold, their eyes filled with endless fear.

The entire Qinglu Village has become a living hell.

Wu Wei stood amidst the mountain of corpses and sea of ​​blood, holding Ya Ya in his arms. The iron spear in his hand still trembled slightly, the flame at its tip gradually dying out. He had won the duel with Xiao Baitong and saved Ya Ya, but he couldn't protect more people. A tremendous sense of sorrow and powerlessness overwhelmed him like a tidal wave.

He didn't believe in fate, only in the spear in his hand, yet at this moment, the spear felt so heavy. He could kill a little white child, but couldn't stop a group; he could save a little girl, but couldn't protect a village. The dangers of this world were far more cruel than he imagined, and the fate of the weak was far more wretched than he knew.

"Brother Wu Wei, are they all... dead?" Ya Ya asked cautiously, her voice trembling with tears.

Wu Wei was silent for a moment, then nodded, his voice hoarse: "Mm."

"Where do we go then?"

"I don't know," Wu Wei answered truthfully. He looked up at the direction of the mountains and forests, a look of unprecedented determination flashing in his eyes. "But I will protect you and help you survive."

He knew that from this moment on, his path of the spear was no longer merely about finding fragments of the origin, nor simply about proving the three paths of the marrow. The spear in his hand needed to carry more—it carried his protection of Ya Ya, his compassion for the weak, and his determination to tear apart these cruel rules.

The ominous mist gradually dissipated, and the afterglow of the setting sun shone through the clouds, casting an eerie red glow on the corpses scattered across the ground. Wu Wei, holding Ya Ya, stood out starkly alone amidst the mountain of corpses and sea of ​​blood, yet his figure exuded an unwavering resolve. He turned and walked towards the mountains and forests beyond the village. His iron spear gleamed coldly in the setting sun, and the Yang Flame Blood Essence flowed slowly within him, warming the trembling little figure in his arms.

The lively atmosphere of Qinglu Village had completely dissipated, but his path of mastery over the spear underwent a new transformation amidst these ruins. From this day forward, he was no longer alone; the spear in his hand would fight not only for himself but also for those he needed to protect, fighting to the very last moment.