Mist clung to the undergrowth as Li Wei, Meng Yiran, Meng Shu, and Chao Tianxiang stepped beneath Star Dou Forest's emerald vault. Dawn's pale light filtered through dripping leaves, painting the world in shifting pools of jade and silver. Every breath tasted of moss and ancient wood; every footstep stirred the hush of centuries-old secrets.
Yesterday they enter the forest at noon and now, it is the morning of the next day. They has not even saw a shadow of the Man Face Demon spider.
Meng Yiran paused, glancing back with a wry smile. "Other hunters rush straight for prey. I promised myself that I'd learn about this place first. Like you said, knowing surrounding make it easier to form a plan"
Li Wei inclined his head. She's right. He remembered his grandfather's lesson: respect the forest's heartbeat before waging war upon it.
---
They pressed deeper until a clearing opened, lit by a shaft of sunlight like an apparition. There, at the water's edge, a magnificent Silver Stag knelt to drink. Its coat shimmered like quicksilver, antlers branching into a crown of living frost.
Chao Tianxiang lifted a finger to her lips. "The Moonlight Stag," she murmured. "Rarely seen by humans."
Li Wei's heart stilled at its tranquil grace. No weapon, no summons. He raised his hand in a silent greeting. The stag's jade-green eyes met his for a heartbeat, then it bounded away in silent majesty.
Meng Shu exhaled softly. "Its spirit ring… is not for the faint of heart. Perhaps another day."
They watched until the stag vanished among knotted roots and trailing vines, leaving only the echo of hoofbeats.
---
Further on, the forest narrowed into a tunnel of twisted wood. Sparks of red and gold glowed behind a thicket: a flock of Ember-Winged Koi—birds whose plumage reflected the dawn like living embers. They darted overhead, their wingbeats stirring sparks of light that fell like fireflies.
Meng Yiran gazing a the distant spirit beast,"Beautiful… I just felt glad that is not our quarry."
Li Wei smiled at the sky-dance, recalling how Meng Yiran once practiced ribbon-dance to mimic their flight. "They teach us about lightness," he said softly. "Swift, fleeting."
They let the koi pass, their laughter like wind-chimes fading into the canopy.
---
At midday, they paused by a narrow brook where water ran clear and cold. Beneath the surface, scales gleamed like moonlight—Ghost Fish, said to reveal hidden truths to those who listened.
Meng Shu knelt and cupped water, eyes closed. "They carry the forest's memory," he explained. "Their spirit rings… can mend fractured hearts."
Chao Tianxiang dipped her own hand, humming a lullaby known only to older spirits. Li Wei knelt beside her, letting the water flow through his fingers trying to see what will happen. He felt faint ripples of insight—visions of distant streams, laughter, farewell. A memory stirred of his father smiling by a riverbank at dusk.
But time pressed on. The Ghost Fish scattered downstream, trailing ripples of silver light, and the four rose together, spirits lighter for the brief communion.
---
As afternoon shadows lengthened, Meng Yiran halted before a tangle of brambles. "Silk," she breathed, touching a single thread glimmering on a leaf.
Li Wei crouched, tracing the nearly invisible line that led into a darker glade. The hunt begins. His calm eyes locked on the path.
Meng Shu positioned himself downwind. Chao Tianxiang whispered a prayer to the forest's spirit, and Meng Yiran tightened her grip on her spear.
They advanced in silence, the damp earth soft beneath their boots. Each step carried the weight of purpose—this was no casual encounter but a reckoning with nature's fiercest hunger.
---
A sudden flick of movement caught Li Wei's eye: small spiders crawling along low branches, black bodies glistening. As he approached, they recoiled, revealing nests of egg-sacs and tangled silk.
Meng Shu's voice was a low rumble. "Weaver's catchers—they only guard the true lair."
Chao Tianxiang nodded. She drew a slender blade, nicking strands at the nest's periphery. The spiders hissed but did not attack—these were guardians, not predators of men.
Li Wei stepped forward, palm glowing with cooling spirit power. He severed the silk gently, freeing one of the smallest spiders clinging to a sac. "Your hunger is small," he murmured, placing it on a nearby leaf. "Go on… feed in bigger hauls."
The little creature scuttled away, and the nest collapsed. For a heartbeat, the forest seemed to exhale. Mercy, Li Wei thought. Even in the hunt.
---
They pressed on until the trees hunched low, branches entwined like bony fingers. A coppery scent tinged the air, sharp with decay. Thick webs draped from limb to limb, clinging like silken shrouds.
"There," whispered Meng Yiran, pointing to a cavernous hollow framed by webs.
Li Wei's pulse quickened. Beneath his calm lay a surge—focus, determination, respect. The creature here was unlike any they'd passed: vast, insatiable, relentless.
He advanced into the web-choked hollow. The walls pulsed with pale threads; every breeze set them quivering. At the center crouched the Man-Face Demon Spider: eight legs folded beneath a grotesque abdomen, and upon its frontmost segment, a pallid visage of human features—hollow eyes, an expressionless mouth.
Chao Tianxiang drew a gentle breath. "Hunger made into monstrous form."
The spider's many eyes fixed on Li Wei and Meng Yiran. Hunger roiled in its gaze, a savage demand that brooked no denial. It flexed its jaws, preparing to strike anything alive.
Meng Shu whispered, "Remember—no hesitation."
Li Wei raised one open hand, spirit power humming like a coiled spring. Across his chest, he felt the anchor of his grandfather's protection, the lessons of mercy, the warmth of friendship beckoning him onward.
He nodded to Meng Yiran. She lifted her spear in silent accord.