6: Chapter 6: A Deer in the Deep Forest 6: Chapter 6: A Deer in the Deep Forest Li Jiujiu fell silent for a mont, then said, “That’s fine.
This sword is peculiar, and if you encounter a formidable enemy and are in danger, you can use this sword to fend them off.
At a critical mont, it might even save your life.”
“Mhm.”
“Alright, I’m leaving now.
Take care.”
“Mhm, you too, take care.” Baili An looked up at the beautiful woman and waved his arm.
Li Jiujiu pursed her lips, said no more, and gently summoned her spiritual power.
The Seven Stars treasured sword beneath her feet lifted her silhouette diagonally skyward.
Soon after, the sword light streaked across the distant sky, becoming a teor-like ray of light.
The sword, and the woman, vanished into the distant horizon.
In the mountain forest, he was finally left alone.
That night, the world was silent, devoid of all sounds.
Baili An felt as if he had returned to the Purple Gold Coffin, through a thousand years, utterly alone, by himself.
The cold mountain wind blew against him, lifting the blue and white Daoist robe, and the chilly breeze poured into his clothes, yet he felt not a hint of cold.
However, this very lack of sensation chilled him to the core and made him acutely aware that he was no longer human.
Loneliness, fear, and grief—such negative emotions only surfaced when he was alone, just like the silt hidden at the bottom of what seems like a clear river, stirring up when disturbed.
Only he could truly understand the most authentic side of himself.
Baili An smiled wryly, suspecting that he must have been a weak and incompetent person in his past life.
He kept saying that he wouldn’t return to the sect with anyone, but as soon as she left, he was here wallowing in sorrowful reflection.
How useless.
He stylishly tucked the Autumnwater Sword that Li Jiujiu had given him at his waist, then suddenly rembered sothing she had said and subconsciously stuck out his tongue to touch the tips of his tusks.
Did they really look like tiger teeth?
Baili An pondered thoughtfully.
He had planned to heed Li Jiujiu’s advice and hunt a beast or two while he was still rational, to drink so fresh blood.
It would be unfortunate if he went into a frenzy from hunger and attacked humans.
He was currently a Second Grade cultivation practitioner, capable of absorbing nature’s spiritual energy to perform Circulation, and with the fragnted mories he retained, he also understood how to cultivate.
This newly revived corpse demon was much stronger than ordinary humans and beasts.
Capturing prey was naturally easy for him, as he had no body heat or breath.
Animals in the mountains could not rely on their senses to predict danger when it ca to Baili An.
Baili An successfully caught a small plum blossom deer.
The little deer was very cute, its round and innocent eyes wide with terror as it struggled mightily.
Baili An felt a bit of pity, but he still used the Autumnwater Sword to make a small cut on the plump rear of the deer and caught the fresh blood with a new green leaf.
Holding the blood, still warm, Baili An frowned slightly.
Clearly, he found it difficult to adapt to a life of raw at and blood.
Moreover, looking at the blood on the leaf, he felt no desire to eat it at all.
His stomach told him that he felt no hunger.
Li Jiujiu had said that his burial clothes were from hundreds of years ago.
Hundreds of years had passed, yet he was not the least bit hungry.
He suddenly rembered that when he first opened his eyes, even lifting his arms had been very difficult, and his tongue had been stiff, allowing him only to speak a bit of Corpse Language.
But when that monk brother died on the mysterious little sword, and all his essence blood was lost, his body regained its softness, and he could speak fluently again.
Baili An subconsciously touched the small sword at his back, feeling a chill in his heart.
Could it be that the little sword had absorbed all of that man’s essence blood, which had flowed into him?
Although he did not feel hungry, he drank what he had collected, as throwing away the deer blood seed like a waste.
Enduring the discomfort, he downed it in one gulp.
Corpse demons have no sense of taste, and Baili An was no exception.
The warm deer blood fell straight down into his belly as he felt a slight warmth at the pit of his stomach.
There, hidden from the outside world, the feeble Yin Yang Tao Fish showed a little bit more vitality with an exceedingly slow rotation.
Though Baili An had no taste, the strong tallic scent in his mouth still made him frown slightly.
He did not like this way of eating.
Fortunately, the amount of blood taken was not much, and the wound was small, so the deer could still hop around cheerfully.
Strangely enough, despite having injured the deer, it had beco unafraid of him after just a short while.
The deer was gentle and circled around him, occasionally bravely licking his hand when he was not paying attention.
Perhaps the fearless little deer knew that he ant it no harm.
Baili An smiled and picked up so hemostatic herbal dicine he had already gathered in the mountains.
He crushed the herbs and extended his hand, gesturing, “Little deer, co here.
Let look at the wound on your rear and stop the bleeding for you.”
This mountain forest sat amidst a host of small Cultivation Sects, rich in spiritual energy, which made the creatures here unusually intelligent.
The little deer seed to understand Baili An’s words and ca trotting over to him.
It presented its sized buttocks and settled down, letting out two pitiful and sowhat wronged whimpers.
Baili An laughed lightly; the little creature was indeed a Spirit Ghost.
He spread the crushed herbal dicine evenly over the deer’s injured buttocks.
The dicine worked quickly, ceasing the blood flow caused by the deer’s running in short order.
However, the downside was that applying it on the wound would cause a fierce sting.
As expected, the deer shuddered and cried out, ready to struggle to its feet.
“Don’t be afraid, it’ll be better soon.”
Baili An gently patted the uninjured half of the deer’s buttocks to soothe it and blew gently on its wound.
The deer cald down obediently.
Baili An had no body heat, and the air he exhaled was naturally cool.
The little deer felt the stinging ease under the cool breeze and comfortably kicked its hind legs against Baili An.
The deer’s buttocks were sturdy; always tumbling around in Shaolin, it was tough and hardy.
Once the blood stopped, a scab quickly ford.
Seeing Baili An pause the dicine application, the deer tilted its head to lick its wound but was promptly stopped by him.
“No, the dicine has been applied, and water will cause infection if it gets wet.”
The deer emitted a low cry, as if in agreent.
But as if the heavens were deliberately contradicting him, as soon as he spoke, a fine drizzle began to fall from the night sky above.
The rain was not heavy, but it was fine, dense, and persistent, touching one’s face as if sprinkling powder.
On the grass, the trees, the stones—it slowly spread throughout the deserted mountain forest, a light, drifting, damp mist.
Baili An gave a bitter smile, opened his robe quickly, scooped up the deer’s posterior, and stuffed it into his embrace to prevent the recently dicated wound from getting wet, then broke into a run.
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