Keeping a low profile even if one’s strength can carry a boar

Time flies, and with the blink of an eye, it was already the middle of June.

The summer night, with the golden arc of the moon hanging high in the sky, shining its radiance on the green mountain lands.

The winds blew and the leaves danced with the moonlight. The song of the cicadas and bullfrogs were simultaneous with each other. At times the sound of a wolf howling could be heard from afar, echoing throughout the green mountain.

On a river bank, a creek was scrubbing over a piece of smooth cliff rock. Beside this bank, a battle was ongoing.

A mountain boar covered in fine and deep wounds all over kicked its legs and rushed forward once more towards Fang Yuan. The blood was pouring from its wounds, marking a road of fresh red liquid.

Fang Yuan wrestled with it, showing no signs of panic.