From a tuberculosis patient to a martial arts master

The next day.

The sky was dark and gloomy, with thick clouds hanging low, making it hard to breathe.

When Zhu Hong opened his eyes, he felt a thin layer of frost between his eyebrows and eyelashes, and white vapor wafted from his breath. As soon as he moved slightly, his joints cracked and popped like popping beans.

"They're gone, they're gone."

Lin Jizhi scooped up a handful of fresh snow and vigorously rubbed his face while shouting, "Hong boy, stop dawdling!"

"Um."

Zhu Hong nodded and left the cave.

After tidying themselves up a bit, the two cleared away the snow and headed north.

The further north you go, the denser the forests become, and the terrain gradually rises and falls, crisscrossed by ravines. By afternoon, the view suddenly opens up before you:

A long, narrow valley shaped like a funnel.

The valley was unusually damp, with countless icicles as thick as a child's arm hanging from the cliffs on both sides, emanating a chilling aura. The valley floor was covered with waist-high thickets of thorns, their dark brown thorns densely packed and pointing skyward, resembling hundreds of poisoned spearheads.

"Wait a moment."

Lin Jizhi suddenly stopped in his tracks, raised his hand to stop her, and frowned: "The smell is off."

Zhu Hong's nostrils twitched slightly.

This time, even he could smell it.

It was a nauseating, putrid stench, mingling with the perpetual dampness and mold at the bottom of the valley, faint yet palpable, like rotten meat that had been fermenting for a long time.

"It seems to be that one."

Zhu Hong raised his hand and pointed to a shady depression under a giant rock deep in the valley.

The two exchanged a glance, then simultaneously separated to the left and right, crouching low and moving silently like cats. Their goose-feather blades were already drawn, concealed by their sleeves, their cold gleam hidden.

Nearly.

Zhu Hong gently parted the last clump of thorns with the tip of his knife, and his brows furrowed as he looked at what he saw.

Beneath the giant rock, the scene was horrific.

It was a corpse that was no longer recognizable as human.

Do not……

It was less a corpse and more a tattered object stuffed into a crevice in the rock, its clothes torn to shreds and hanging haphazardly on the pale skeleton.

The abdominal cavity was completely empty; all the internal organs had been emptied out, leaving only a row of ribs standing there alone like white stakes. The muscles on the legs had been completely removed, the cuts smooth and with a stringy, pulled texture, clearly not caused by a knife or axe, but rather by some extremely sharp teeth tearing them off.

A head rolled to one side.

Half of the dough had been eaten away, and the only remaining eye was wide open, staring intently at the leaden sky, its pupil seemingly still frozen with the fear of impending death.

"It's that porter."

Lin Jizhi squatted down, but did not touch the corpse. He simply extended two fingers and gently wiped the frozen soil next to the head.

"The blood hasn't completely dried yet..."

The mud on his fingertips was dark brown and still slightly sticky. "No," he said, his voice suddenly rising.

"Watch out!"

Almost at the same instant, Zhu Hong felt the hairs on the back of his head stand on end, and an unprecedented sense of dread rushed from his tailbone straight to the top of his head.

There was no roaring.

There was no sound of wind.

There wasn't even any warning!

The pile of withered leaves, which had appeared perfectly normal, suddenly collapsed without warning, then exploded with a deafening roar. A gray shadow shot out, skimming the ground, flat like a slithering, monstrous snake.

fast!

So fast that it's almost impossible to catch a glimpse of it!

Zhu Hong didn't even have time to swing his knife; at the critical moment, his body instinctively made a defensive movement.

Sink your waist, drop your elbows, twist your body, and lean forward sharply.

"when--!"

The shadow crashed into the scabbard he hastily swung across.

An overwhelming force struck, and Zhu Hong felt his arms go numb, his tiger's mouth almost burst open, and he staggered backward involuntarily, taking several steps before barely regaining his balance.

"Sizzle—"

Cotton fluff fluttered in the air.

Even with the scabbard blocking, the sleeve of his left arm was still torn open, and blood immediately gushed out.

"Such domineering force!"

"Such sharp claws and teeth..."

"It's a ground wolves! Zhu Hong, protect your backs!"

Lin Jizhi let out a loud shout, and the goose feather saber in his hand transformed into a bright white streak, slashing through the air towards the gray figure that had landed.

Only then did Zhu Hong see the true face of the intruder.

What kind of wolf is this?

He is clearly a deformed monster of the lowest rank of the first grade.

It was nearly ten feet long, with short, thick, yet extremely robust limbs, its claws like iron hooks, firmly gripping the frozen earth. Its entire body was covered in grayish-brown bristles, each hair like a needle, blending seamlessly with the surrounding withered leaves and decaying soil. Most bizarrely, its back seemed to have been broken and then healed, collapsing downwards into a strange arc, allowing it to slither along the ground like a snake.

On a long, narrow beast face:

Two gleaming green eyes gleamed with a cruel, eerie light, and now they were grinning, revealing two rows of gleaming white fangs:

"Huff, huff,"

Its low, labored breathing was not like the roar of a wild beast, but more like the pulling of a broken bellows.

Roar--!

The first strike missed.

The beast twisted its body strangely, abruptly turning in mid-air to avoid Lin Jizhi's seemingly inevitable strike. Its four claws frantically pawed at the ground, its body shrinking and springing back, transforming into a gray shadow once more. Instead of retreating, it advanced, aiming straight for Lin Jizhi's lower body.

This lunge could break a person's legs.

"Get out of here!"

Lin Ji remained calm in the face of danger, neither dodging nor avoiding. With a light touch of his toes, he suddenly rose up and unleashed a series of powerful kicks, aiming to force the beast back.

"Brother Jizhi, don't try to outrun it."

Zhu Hong reached into the brocade pouch at his waist, picked up the bottle of "Blood Clotting Powder," and applied the medicine after removing the plug. As the bleeding gradually stopped, the warmth in his eyes transformed into murderous intent.

That beast is faster than lightning, then...

Overpower skill with brute force!

He stomped his foot hard, and the frozen ground beneath his feet cracked inch by inch.

"You beast, take this!"

He didn't use any fancy moves; he simply gripped the hilt of his sword tightly with both hands, channeling all the brute strength he had honed through days and nights of relentless training with the Blood Marrow Strengthening Ointment and relentless battering against sandbags and bronze figures into this simplest and most direct strike:

"Splitting Mount Hua with might—"

(Taken by myself.)

The goose-feather blade slashed down through the air, carrying with it the faint sounds of wind and thunder, like the roar of a tiger and the cry of a dragon.

The wolf seemed to realize that it couldn't take the blow head-on. Its forward lunge suddenly stopped, and its long tail swept across the air like a steel whip, stirring up mud, sand, and snow that dazzled people's eyes. Using the force of the sweep, it slid several feet to the side in a strange way.

"boom!"

The blade missed its mark, striking the frozen ground and carving a trench in its wake.

"Brother Jizhi, left!"

Before Zhu Hong could retract his blade, he caught a glimpse of the gray figure's movements out of the corner of his eye and immediately shouted a warning.

In the blink of an eye.

The two humans and the beast were now locked in a tense standoff in this chilling, stench-filled valley.

The wolf crouched low, its blue eyes scanning the two people. Its thick claws dug deep furrows in the ground, and it let out low, rapid breaths.

It is waiting.

Waiting for the next opening that must be exploited to deliver a fatal blow!

……