4. The Boy in Forbidden Woods

The pained grunts grew louder.

Mo Yichen's caught the sound of labored breathing, shifting feet, and the low growls of beasts. His instincts flared.

There was a fight ahead.

He quickened his pace, weaving between the massive trees with ease, his footsteps barely disturbing the damp forest floor. The air thickened with tension, the unmistakable scent of blood drifting through the dense foliage.

Then—something moved in the corner of his eye.

His gaze snapped to the right.

A young man, clad in a light blue robe, stood amidst a circle of Spirit Wolves. His figure was slightly hunched probably because of the wounds, his robes torn, revealing a deep gash on his left arm, crimson staining the fabric. His chest rose and fell in rapid breaths, his face pale from exhaustion and blood loss.

Despite his injuries, his stance was steady, his grip firm around the hilt of a slender sword. A white jade pendant dangled from the sword's hilt as it swayed with his movements.

Mo Yichen's brows lifted slightly in amusement. Even against a dozen Spirit Wolves, the young man moved with grace.

'He's skilled.'

One of the wolves lunged, fangs gleaming, aiming for his exposed side.

CLANG!

With a sharp turn, the boy's sword met the beast's open jaw, piercing straight through its skull before he twisted and flung its limp body aside. His sword barely stopped moving before he backed, his movements precise and deadly.

Two wolves charged from opposite directions.

His feet shifted—a step back, changing the foot—and with a single smooth slash, he cut clean through both throats in one stroke. Blood splattered onto the ground, the bodies collapsing before they even realized they were dead.

But the remaining wolves weren't scared. They prowled in a tight circle, eyes glowing red with malice. Their sharp claws dug into the soil, their low growls vibrating through the air.

The young man panted, his grip tightening around his sword. Beads of sweat slid down his temple.

Mo Yichen tilted his head. 'He's strong, but he's injured. If this drags on…'

Just as he finished that thought, another wolf leaped, aiming for the boy's throat, fangs bared, but the boy was ready. He met the beast with a swift horizontal slash, the blade cutting through the creature's throat. The wolf howled in agony before collapsing at his feet, its body twitching in its final breath.

The remaining Spirit Wolves, sensing their diminishing numbers, hesitated but as they backed away a sudden surge of black air surrounded them.

"Demonic energy!" Mo Yichen's voice rang out sharply, his eyes widening as he watched the remaining four wolves.

A dark, ominous cloud of black energy swirled around them, an unmistakable sign that someone is controlling them.

The boy in blue, hearing the shout, cast a sharp glance toward Mo Yichen. His gaze locked onto the figure standing by the tree, his eyes narrowing slightly. Yet, without a word, he turned back to face the wolves, who had now become even more menacing, their bodies exuding a dangerous aura.

"You.. shouldn't be here," the boy said in a low tone, crouching slightly as he prepared for another strike. But just as he was about to move, a violent cough racked his body, and a mouthful of blood spilled onto the damp ground beneath him.

Mo Yichen's eyes narrowed as he watched the dark crimson liquid stain the earth. Without hesitation, he closed the distance, his steps purposeful and carefree.

"You're poisoned?" he said, more of a statement than a question. He stopped just inches away from the boy, his hand casually crossed over his chest, a sly grin formed on his lips as he bent down to examine the blood.

The boy in blue remained silent, his breath shallow and labored. When there was no response, Mo Yichen tilted his head, his dark eyes glinting. His gaze shifted upward, locking onto the boy's.

The snow-blue eyes stared back at him—sharp and intense.

It was only now, up close, that Mo Yichen truly noticed the boy's features. His face was strikingly sharp, with straight eyebrows that framed his intense gaze. His lips, pale pink, betrayed the toll the battle had taken on him. Despite his age, the boy's body was strong—broad shoulders, a lean waist, and skin so pale it seemed almost translucent.

He exuded an air of quiet authority, even in this state when he was barely able to stand properly.

Mo Yichen raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. Boy in Blue, ".."

"Judging by the blood on the ground, this isn't just any ordinary pois—ahhh!"

Before Mo Yichen could finish his sentence, a strong grip yanked him backward. A sharp gust of wind followed, and the distinct sound of a blade slicing through flesh echoed in the night. The boy in blue had moved with lightning speed, his sword gleaming as he cut the lunging wolf clean in half.

Mo Yichen's breath hitched as the situation sank in—he had nearly died just now. He hadn't even noticed the wolf creeping up on him, but thank god..

However, there was no time for gratitude. From the corner of his eye, he saw something that made his blood run cold—the dead wolves were standing up again. Their wounds were sealed as dark energy oozed from their bodies, their glowing red eyes locking onto both figures.

"What…?" he muttered in disbelief.

"Someone is controlling them," the boy in blue said, his voice tight and low.

Without hesitation, he lunged forward again, his sword a blur as he struck down the wolves one by one. But no matter how many times he slashed, they kept rising!

Each time, their demonic energy thickened, their movements turning even more erratic and vicious.

A sharp claw raked across the boy's arm, drawing deep gashes. Another wolf lunged, biting into his shoulder. He gritted his teeth, shoving the beast away, but his movements were slowing. He was severely wounded, and his breaths were growing ragged.

"Run!" he hissed, sparing a single glance at Mo Yichen. 

Mo Yichen took a step back, his heart hammering in fear. His instincts screaming at him to save himself. After all, he had just transmigrated into this body, barely making sense of things.

Dying here would be utterly pointless.

But just as he turned to flee, his eyes darted to the boy—bloodied, exhausted, yet still standing...

"Damn it.. It would have been better if I didn't see him" He clenched his fists and spun back around, yelling, "Do you have any spare talismans?!"

The boy in blue paused for a moment before nodding weakly. With his uninjured hand, he reached into his outer robe and pulled out several yellow talisman papers.

"But I can't use them," he admitted, his voice tight. "My spiritual energy is blocked because of the poison. They're useless."

Mo Yichen's eyes flickered. "Not necessarily."

Before the boy could react, Mo Yichen darted forward, snatching the talismans from his hands. He exhaled sharply.

It had been a long time.

Back in his original world, he was called a genius. Not just in the medical world but also in almost everything. He has invented many tricks which can never be underestimated. 

Biting his forefinger, he let his blood flow freely before pressing it against the talisman. With swift, precise strokes, he wrote glowing incantations, his movements effortless, almost instinctual. The moment his blood seeped into the paper, the talismans flickered with a faint, golden glow.

The wolves snarled, sensing the shift in energy.

Mo Yichen smirked, twirling the talismans between his fingers as his eyes met those snow-blue orbs.

"Let's see if these mutts can still stand after this-" 

With a swift twirl of his left leg, Mo Yichen flicked his wrist, sending the talisman soaring through the air. "Demon-Breaking Talisman" It landed right in the center of the encroaching wolves.

—BANG!!

A deafening explosion tore through the forest. Birds shrieked and scattered into the sky. The once peaceful green landscape was instantly consumed by a cloud of black smoke, the sheer impact so powerful that the ground trembled beneath their feet. Both Mo Yichen and the boy in blue staggered backward, barely keeping their balance.

When the dust finally settled, Mo Yichen's jaw dropped.

Right where the wolves once stood, a massive, gaping pit had formed, smoke curling ominously from its depths.

"…Did I just do that? Holy sister.." he pointed towards himself, completely dumbfounded. His fingertips and ears still tingling from the force of the explosion.

'What the actual hell in the netherworld?!' he screamed internally. 'I only wrote some ordinary incantation to seal them off! How the hell did I just bomb the whole damn place?!'

His eye twitched as he stared at his own hands, the faint trace of his blood still visible on his fingertips. He turned to the boy in blue, hoping for some kind of answer—only to find the young man on his knees, coughing up another mouthful of blood.

Mo Yichen screeched to a halt. 

The boy barely lifted his head, his breath shallow. His poison was acting up again, and at this rate, he might not even see the sun tomorrow.

Mo Yichen groaned, running a hand through his hair. 'Great, just great. First, I transmigrate into a body that's barely useful, then I was roped to work for that stinky old man, and now I've somehow turned into a walking grenade launcher..?'

"..And what's up with me stumbling upon dying people.." his voice barely audible as he strides towards the stranger who is now leaning back barely conscious.

Mo Yichen crouched down sharply scanning the young man's face. His breath was shallow, his skin pale, and his half-lidded eyes were struggling to stay open. Sweat beaded on his forehead, mixing with the streaks of blood trailing down from his wounds.

Mo Yichen reached out, pressing his fingers against the boy's wrist. His brows furrowed immediately. His pulse was faint. With every breath he took, it seemed to weaken even further.

A moment of silence stretched between them before a hoarse whisper broke it.

"…Who are you?"

Mo Yichen's lips parted slightly, but he hesitated, glancing down at his slightly bloodied fingertips. 'Seriously? Even I don't know who I am or what's going on…'

He sighed inwardly before looking back up. The boy's eyes were glassy, unfocused, struggling to stay open. He wasn't in a condition to hear long explanations anyway.

"Well, it doesn't matter who I am," Mo Yichen said with urgency. "What matters is that I'm the only one who can save you right now."

He hurriedly assessed the stranger's condition, his eyes running over the gashes staining the light blue robe. Blood was pooling beneath him, and his breathing was too ragged for comfort.

"You're severely injured.. and you've lost quite a bit of blood. First, we need to stop the bleeding, then handle the poison."

Without wasting a second, Mo Yichen's fingers moved with practiced ease, sealing the boy's acupoints to slow the bleeding. 

The boy in blue, though weakened, silently observed him with those icy, unreadable eyes.

Finally, Mo Yichen reached into his inner robe and pulled out a small jade bottle with a small crimson lotus carved. Uncorking it, he tipped a single bright yellow pill into his palm.

"Open your mouth," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The boy hesitated, his wariness flickering for a brief second, but eventually, he complied. His lips parted slightly, allowing Mo Yichen to place the pill on his tongue. His throat trembled as he swallowed, his eyelids quivering with the effort.

Mo Yichen sat back on his heels, studying him carefully. "That should stabilize you for now," he muttered. "I don't have the materials to make an antidote, so I'll need to find some herbs to suppress the poison.."

He was about to stand when he noticed the boy's eyelids drooping again.

Mo Yichen frowned. "Hey."

No response.

"Hey! Don't just fall asleep like that! We are still on the other side of the barrier!"

Still, there was no answer. The boy's body slumped slightly, his breathing soft.

Mo Yichen's eye twitched.

He gave the boy a firm shake, but the only response was the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

"For the god's sake! Are you seriously going to sleep here?"

Still nothing.

"...I'm gonna leave you if you don't wake up."

Silence.