Prologue

In the gloomy dungeon, a disheveled man hung on the wall, his limbs bound. Blood covered his body, making it impossible to distinguish between wounds and trails of blood.

Outside the cell stood several graceful women. Their leader, veiled and face hidden, fixed her gaze on the imprisoned man. She focused intently on his labored breathing, which grew longer and weaker with each passing moment.

Suddenly, the woman clenched her fist. “Enter and draw blood,” she commanded, her voice unexpectedly harsh and gravelly, like that of a nonagenarian.

“Master…” one of her followers hesitated. “We’ve already drawn blood today. We should wait until noon tomorrow…”

Before she could finish, the leader struck her across the face with a resounding slap.

“Can’t you see he’s about to die tonight?” she hissed, her cold eyes piercing through the veil. “Wait until tomorrow noon? Do you want all my efforts to be in vain?”

Soon, the struck attendant began to wail, her cries intensifying as she writhed on the ground. When her movements finally ceased, the others saw that half her face had rotted away, exposing the bone beneath the bloody flesh.

After two final, pitiful cries, her hand fell from her face, and she lay still, eyes open but lifeless.

“Does anyone else have something to say?” the leader challenged. The remaining women fell silent, cleansing their hands before entering the cell.

One opened a golden box containing a silkworm-like creature. Another wiped clean the prisoner’s chest, while a third made a small incision with a golden knife. Fresh blood flowed, and the worm in the box began to writhe frantically.

An attendant placed the box on the man’s chest. The worm immediately crawled to the wound and began sucking blood voraciously, its jade-white body turning blood-red.

When the color change seemed complete, the attendant tried to brush the worm back into the box. Suddenly, she paled. “Master,” she called out, “the jade silkworm’s head… it’s crawled into the wound. I can’t get it out.”

The veiled woman swiftly entered the cell. In those few moments, the attendant cried out, “It’s gone in! The jade silkworm’s gone in!”

By the time the leader arrived, the worm had vanished into the man’s chest.

Silence fell. Then, an attendant noticed the prisoner’s finger twitch slightly – the first movement in 99 days. Another gasped, “His wound…”

Incredibly, the wound began to heal.

The leader touched the man’s chest, letting out a suppressed chuckle. “Success! My human-parasite has finally succeeded!”

As she laughed, the man suddenly clenched his fist. With two loud cracks, the iron chains binding his wrists snapped, embedding themselves in the wall from the sheer force.

The man’s eyes snapped open, blood-red and beast-like, turning his refined features into a terrifying visage.

The woman laughed triumphantly. “Good boy! Today, you become the treasure of our Lingchang Sect! With you, my return to the Southern Frontier is imminent!” But before she could finish, the man’s hand shot out, gripping her throat.

As he tightened his grip, her face turned purple. “Let… go… child… I’m your master,” she choked out.

Ignoring her words, he flung her against the wall with such force that it left a large dent.

With a beast-like roar, blood splattered throughout the dungeon.

Time passed, and as dawn approached, he stumbled out of the dungeon, moving clumsily through the forest. In the distance, he glimpsed the desolate city walls of the Great Jin Dynasty’s frontier.

His ragged breath formed soft white clouds in the cold night air, dissipating as he stumbled forward. Moonlight filtered through bare branches, illuminating his blood-soaked body. A vivid red mark, resembling flames, crawled up his chest to his neck, face, and left eye.

Excruciating pain, as if tearing his soul apart, tormented his heart.

Gritting his teeth in agony, he stumbled out of the forest. Without trees for support, he slipped and tumbled down a slope.

In the frigid dawn of the northern frontier, he lay motionless on frosty, withered grass. His muscles began to tremble as bones seemed to crumble within him. His body, feeling crushed by invisible rocks, emitted cracking sounds as his large frame slowly shrank until… he transformed into a child.

As sunlight crept over distant mountains, the sound of approaching horsemen broke the silence. He remained still, too weak to even open his eyes.

“General,” a gruff voice called, “there’s a child over there.”

Hooves approached, and someone dismounted. Mustering his strength, he opened his eyes to see a slender figure in red robes and silver armor – a female general.

This single glance depleted his energy, and his eyes closed again.

Behind her stood two armored men. Vice General Luo Teng exclaimed, “Heavens! This child is covered in blood!”

Vice General Qin Lan calmly noted, “General, there’s a mark on his chest.”

“A flame pattern. It’s quite beautiful,” the woman’s slightly husky voice remarked as cool fingertips gently traced the mark on his chest.

Her touch sent a shiver through him, awakening something primal within. Suddenly, he felt an intense heat and thirst, becoming acutely aware of the scent of blood from the three people before him.

The woman’s blood, in particular, held an indescribable allure.

Unaware of his internal struggle, the female general patted his face. “Let’s take him with us.”

“General,” Qin Lan protested, “we don’t know his background…”

Luo Teng speculated, “I’ve heard the Western Rong tribes sacrifice humans. Perhaps he’s an offering for a harsh winter?”

“Why would a sacrifice be abandoned and bloodied?” Qin Lan countered.

Hearing “blood,” his thirst intensified.

“He seems thirsty. Bring some water,” the general ordered. Instead of pouring water directly into his mouth, she moistened her finger and gently wet his lips.

The water, tasteless on its own, became infused with her scent and the tantalizing aroma of her blood.

When her finger left his lips, a primal hunger took over. As she touched his lips again, he instinctively bit down hard on her finger.

Blood filled his mouth as his teeth sank into her flesh. The general hissed in pain, instinctively pulling back, but he refused to let go, gulping down the blood eagerly.

The taste of blood ignited a fire within him, causing his heart to race uncontrollably.

“General!” The two men rushed forward, one trying to pry open his jaw.

The other cursed, “You ungrateful brat! I’ll break your jaw!” But as he reached for the boy, the general sharply commanded, “Luo Teng, stop!”

Luo Teng hesitated, protesting, “General! This whelp bit you!”

“I’m aware,” she retorted, brushing his hand aside. With two fingers, she skillfully pressed a point on the boy’s jaw, forcing it to relax.

“You’d have crushed his skull,” she chided, withdrawing her finger.

Though the small amount of blood couldn’t fully satisfy him, it calmed the turmoil within.

“General, your hand…” Qin Lan said worriedly.

“It’s just a flesh wound,” she dismissed, hoisting the boy onto her shoulder. “Let’s head back to camp.”

Luo Teng exclaimed, “General, you’re taking this little wolf cub with us?”

Li Shuang placed the boy on her horse and mounted behind him, cradling his seemingly unconscious form. “He’s just a child,” she said matter-of-factly. “Wasn’t I also like a wild wolf when my father found me?”

Her words silenced any further objections.

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