Chapter 57: Gradually Rising

An Ao Yin sprawled beneath a thick Comfrey Wood, its white fur splotchy and dry from the ravages of harsh winter, long strands knotted and dangling haphazardly from its body. The four horns atop its head had also lost their usual shine, now dull and lustreless.

Under its body, a pale layer of bones remained, devoid of the slightest shred of meat or hint of marrow. Even the marrow had dried up under its repeated gnawing and sucking.

The Ao Yin half-closed its eyes, its mouth working away, ruminate on the meager, acid-tinged food in its stomach, dreaming of the Star Ape it had caught deep in the forest last autumn. Oh, such a robust Star Ape it was, with lush muscles and sweet blood, its eyeballs bursting with juice and resilience when bitten.

At that thought, its throat undulated, the long-reflected bone fragments in its mouth mixing with the saliva that had just surged, finally swallowed down with difficulty.