C17 A Beast Skin Paper Book

With Zou Cang's assistance, Jing Chong managed to clean up the dormitory's overwhelming mess in record time. As they surveyed the modest heap of trash they'd amassed, both men excitedly wiped the sweat from their brows.

Yet, it was through this brief encounter that Jing Chong realized the individuals from the ninth and tenth squads weren't as disagreeable as he'd previously thought. At the very least, Zou Cang seemed like someone worth befriending.

Still, Jing Chong wasn't one to proactively extend an olive branch as others might. After a period of silence, Zou Cang simply dropped his broom and walked out of the dorm, leaving Jing Chong to wonder what he was off to do next.

The dormitory was now a breath of fresh air, free from the musty odors that once lingered. Jing Chong decided to lie down on the bed closest to Nie Haiyuan's, closing his eyes to reflect on the events of the past few days while also quietly mapping out his future plans.

Today marked his first day at Blood Razor Keep. Despite Nie Haiyuan's insistence that he stay at Skyreach Keep, Jing Chong knew from his encounter with Captain Qiao Shan at the mountain's entrance that the situation was far from straightforward.

To be fully accepted as a member of Blood Razor Keep, he would have to pass a series of rigorous tests set by the chieftain. So even though he now wore the attire of a Blood Razor Keep minion, he wasn't truly one of them yet.

The thought of the upcoming trials and the daunting task of proving himself gave Jing Chong a headache. The bravado he had felt earlier had vanished into thin air.

It seems that, at times, certain things are easier said than done. Consider Nie Haiyuan's years of dedication, which had yet to elevate him beyond a commoner, or Zou Cang's nine years of toil, still leaving him as nothing more than a lackey.

Of course, the status of others was irrelevant to Jing Chong's own path. However, it underscored a truth: to make one's mark, an extraordinary amount of effort is required, far beyond the ordinary.

He was acutely aware that he needed to become a bona fide member of Blood Razor Keep. But that was just the beginning; he also aspired to enter the Hall of Instruction to master the arts, aiming to secure the annual guaranteed admission spot.

His ultimate goal was to gain entry into the mystical inner stronghold described by Nie Haiyuan, to witness beings said to rival immortals, though he was uncertain if such beings truly existed.

His meticulous planning acted like a sedative, slowly reviving him from his weariness as his mind tirelessly worked. With each blink, he became acutely aware of the aching fatigue that pervaded his body.

Indeed, after running for a full day and night, even his resilient physique was spent.

The events of the previous evening jolted Jing Chong's weary spirit into alertness. Without realizing it, he found himself revisiting the episodes of illness from the night before.

He could recall his childhood, when each bout of sickness meant days of confinement to his bed, taking three to five days to recover.

Yet inexplicably, since fleeing his grandfather's home and arriving at Blood Razor Keep, despite the tremendous physical exertion, a single night's sleep had erased all traces of fatigue, as if a mysterious nightmare had healed him.

The entire experience felt surreal, like a dream, elusive and perplexing.

Ignoring the hundred-mile, energy-draining run, the severe toll of his stubborn malaria alone was devastating, often threatening his very life.

But the stark contrast between his past and present condition was so profound that it aroused his suspicions.

A sudden spark of insight flashed through his mind, bringing forth vivid, familiar images: mountains and rivers, ancient trees, dense forests, swarms of bees, and a wildfire that gave way to rebirth. He remembered that it was after dreaming of these scenes that he felt an inexplicable surge of green light within him.

Nourished by this mysterious green light, his body was enveloped in a damp, cool sensation. The green light's cleansing had soothed his raging blood, and all his pains had vanished into thin air.

Caught between reality and fantasy, Jing Chong found himself lost in speculation, even questioning if his mind was playing tricks on him.

Despite his best efforts to block out the sensation, Jing Chong found himself unable to resist the pull of his peculiar experiences. "It's the beast skin scroll!" he realized with a sudden clarity.

Indeed, his life had been uneventful until the calamity struck his home. Since then, distinguishing between reality and fantasy had become increasingly difficult, a challenge that only intensified after he acquired the beast skin book. Now, determined to reconcile fact with fiction, he directed all suspicion towards the mysterious tome.

With a swift movement, Jing Chong sat upright on the wooden bed and, without a moment's hesitation, reached for the book that had been resting against his chest for days. Initially, he had merely considered it a relic, something to be treasured and stored away. Yet, in a twist of fate, it had shielded him from a lethal blow during an attack by a man in black at Uncle Li's house. In a way, the book had become his unlikely savior.

Compelled by a bizarre energy he sensed within the book's illustrations, Jing Chong knew he had to delve deeper to discern the line between the tangible and the ethereal.

He carefully extracted the inch-thick beast skin book and surveyed his surroundings. Nie Haiyuan was still fast asleep, snoring away, and Zou Cang had stepped out without returning. Seizing the moment of solitude, Jing Chong boldly exposed the book to the open air.

To the untrained eye, the yellowed beast skin book might seem unassuming, but Jing Chong scrutinized its cover with fervent attention. His gaze soon lit up with an irrepressible excitement. "This leather is incredibly tough!" he exclaimed, unable to contain his elation at the realization that he had stumbled upon a true treasure.

Overwhelmed by his discovery, he didn't dwell on his outburst. After all, he was alone with his find.

His gaze fixed on the stout beast skin book, Jing Chong examined it closely. To his amazement, the durable pages, which seemed impervious even to teeth, bore no mark when struck by a sharp blade. The strength of this enigmatic scroll was beyond his wildest imagination.

Lost in contemplation, Jing Chong continued to pore over the book, his earlier slip of the tongue forgotten in the face of his awe-inspiring discovery.

Sometimes the speaker may be thoughtless, but the listener finds meaning, especially with such a distinct call. How could it not rouse someone from their slumber? Thus, before he could stow away the animal skin book, a rustle came from behind him.

Simultaneously, as the wooden bed shook, a sudden cry of alarm echoed through the spacious dormitory.

"Whose pack is the stiffest?"