C4 Blood Sacrifice to Cang Yue

Indeed, there's truth to the old adage that books hold treasures beyond gold and beauty. Jing Chong, though unfamiliar with the characters in the book, gleaned a multitude of profound secrets from its illustrated pages.

Gradually, he felt his body grow lighter and more translucent, until he was so enraptured that he forgot himself entirely. Each piece of beast skin seemed to form its own universe, and Jing Chong, in his blissful ignorance, was utterly captivated, unable to extricate himself.

As dusk descended once again, Jing Chong had finished the hefty tome. His gaze was unfocused, his mind a blank slate. It appeared he had learned nothing, yet he could distinctly sense his mindset solidifying, unshakeable as a mountain.

Engrossed in his reading, Jing Chong was unaware that his bodily injuries and the aftereffects of his malaria had vanished as if by magic. He remained blissfully lost in self-forgetfulness, oblivious to his own healing.

In that moment, the only thing that seemed to matter was the loud, grating rumble from his stomach, drowning out all else. The pain having dissipated, he felt an even greater sense of comfort, which made him forget everything else.

Time passed, and the internal tumult grew fiercer, jolting Jing Chong back to reality. A reflexive wave of his hands made him aware of the subtle transformations within him.

Yet, he couldn't fathom the reason for these changes.

Given his dire circumstances and precarious life, it was remarkable that he still had any awareness at all. To dwell on these thoughts seemed almost disrespectful to himself, so he quickly dismissed them from his mind.

Clutching his belly with one hand and tucking the thick beast skin book into his chest with the other, he acknowledged the undeniable truth: sustenance is paramount. Without food, even the sturdiest body would falter.

With this realization, Jing Chong stepped out of the cave once more. This time, the view that greeted him did not bring the previous heartache. Instead, buoyed by a leap in his spiritual realm, he felt an impulsive urge to leap into the unknown.

He was acutely aware that remaining in this cave indefinitely would spell certain death. Yet, if he dared to risk it all and scale the mountain rock straight up, there might be a glimmer of hope for survival. His will to live slowly brought him to his senses, and with it came the realization of some hard truths: life and death are in the hands of fate, but as long as he was alive, he was determined to make his life shine.

Jing Chong's optimism once again ignited a light within him, and his spirit surged. In an instant, he spun around, clenched his teeth, and leaped toward the green vines outside the cave entrance.

The madness of his actions was beyond his own understanding. He was driven by a singular belief: he had to escape this place at all costs.

Even so, as dusk enveloped the landscape, Jing Chong couldn't shake off a lingering fear of the dark, bottomless abyss. Clinging to the newfound strength coursing through him, he dared not hesitate. Looking up at the green vines disappearing into the darkness above, he experienced a sense of mastery for the first time.

Gathering all his strength into his arms, Jing Chong pushed off from the ground. With a soft whoosh, he sprang up effortlessly like a monkey, floating mid-air with an unexpected lightness and clarity that even he found astonishing.

The stark contrast between his previous, injury-laden struggle to climb and his current effortless ascent after just a day's time sent his thoughts spinning. Despite the toll on his physical stamina and the turmoil within, he marveled at the power he still possessed.

Yet, he was unaware that all of this could be attributed to the beast skin scroll tucked away in his arms.

It was this slight enlightenment that made him feel so thoroughly invigorated and blissfully unencumbered.

Now, it seemed as though his entire being had been cleansed by the spiritual energy of the world around him, with a warmth moving through him, seemingly ready to lift him off the ground.

With the agility of a nimble swallow, Jing Chong had ascended the green vines to a height of nearly eighteen feet without much effort.

However, upon reaching this point, the bright moonlight revealed a stark reality: the vines he was climbing abruptly ended. The sudden change threw him into disarray. Jing Chong frowned, forced to reassess his situation and search for a new path upward.

Fortunately, Jing Chong still had some strength left in him. Even after hanging in the air for an extended period, it hadn't been too much of a burden on his body. His eyes followed the green vines up the stone wall, and soon he found another hold that could be used for climbing.

Not far ahead and to his left, a massive crack had appeared on the previously smooth stone wall. It looked as though it had formed naturally, a sudden break from the mountain stream. The fissure was only about three feet wide, just large enough to accommodate one person.

Upon seeing this, a fervent joy sparked in Jing Chong's eyes. He suddenly felt a surge of power throughout his body. With no hesitation, he swung the green vine in his hand, leaped forward, and stretched out his palms, which fit perfectly into the rough crevice.

Now with a solid foothold, Jing Chong attacked the climb with renewed vigor, like a tiger that had grown wings. He scrambled up the cliff face, veins on his forehead standing out, his hands bleeding, and his worn grass shoes revealing his toes.

Yet, such a challenge couldn't deter Jing Chong, brimming with a will to survive. He climbed upward, step by step, like a steadfast wolf in the darkness—silent but with eyes flashing like lightning, relentless once he had set his sights on a target.

After enduring numerous trials, he finally reached the summit.

When he clutched a huge rock at the edge of the cliff with one hand, an unknown strength coursed through him. His arm veins popped, straining as if his blood vessels might burst. Then, with a powerful leap, his body shot up. After a few wobbles in mid-air, he landed firmly on the ground, gasping for breath as he reached the cliff's edge.

Despite his exhaustion, Jing Chong didn't immediately rest. Instead, he gazed at the bright moon with icy eyes. It was like a steel blade, slicing through the smoky void to reveal itself—a moon as large as a cartwheel.

The sight of the moon stirred Jing Chong's emotions. Thankfully, he still had a sliver of strength to sustain him. His quivering lips moved for a moment, his teeth chattering in the cold. His voice, cold as ice, carried to the edge of the cliff, "When I, Jing Chong, stand here again, I will use the blood of my enemies to pay my respects to Cang Yue!"

"When I, Jing Chong, stand here again, I will honor Cang Yue with the blood of my enemies!"

As his declaration echoed, Jing Chong, not knowing from where he mustered the courage, waved his hand and lifted his left to his lips. With a slight tremble, the crimson blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. Unconcerned, he simply extended his finger, letting the blood beads fall with the wind onto the shadowy cliffs below.

Through each flowing droplet, the moon above was rapidly stained into a vicious, blood-red orb.

Having done all this, Jing Chong could no longer keep himself upright. His slender frame wavered for a long while, weakened by hunger and the blood loss he had just sustained. His legs gave out, and he collapsed on the spot.

His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. Even a body as resilient as iron couldn't endure such an ordeal.

After all, he was but a twelve-year-old boy. That he could accomplish so much on his own physical strength was nothing short of miraculous.

A few deep breaths later, Jing Chong felt some of his energy return after a brief rest. Shaking hands braced his body as his indomitable will helped him break free from death's grasp, and he stood tall once more.

He paused for a moment, gathering his resolve, then turned and limped down the mountain. In the blink of an eye, he had vanished into the quiet forest.