The boar lay still.
Its blood seeped into the forest floor, dark and warm against the dry leaves. Flies were already gathering at the wound. Pale morning sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a patchy golden light across the clearing.
Li Fan sat beside the body, panting softly, his back pressed against a tree.
His shirt clung to him, soaked with sweat and blood. The knife still hung in his grip, its blade slick with red.
He didn't know how long he sat there before he finally stood.
Wiping the knife on the grass, he got to work.
He wasn't a seasoned hunter, but he knew a thing or two. His father had taken him out once or twice when he was younger, but he'd never done the gutting himself.
Still, instinct took over.
He crouched beside the carcass and set to work. The knife wasn't meant for butchering, and his hands weren't trained, but he did what he could—slicing through fur and skin, trying to cut meat in chunks he could carry. His cuts were uneven, messy. He wasted a lot more than he wanted.
But the smell of fresh meat made his mouth water even before he was finished.
By the time he stood, his arms were slick with blood, and his stomach cramped with hunger.
He packed what he could into a bundle of cloth, tied it to his back, and started walking.
He limped in silence.
Each step dragged. Thorns scratched his legs. Sweat ran down his spine despite the chill in the air.
At one point, he leaned against a tree just to catch his breath.
---
Eventually, the forest thinned out near the eastern ridge, where a stream trickled through the rocks and moss.
Perfect.
He stumbled down the slope, dragging the bundle, until he reached the edge of the stream. A flat stone stuck out near the water, and a small circle of blackened rocks showed where someone—maybe an outer disciple—had once built a fire.
Li Fan let out a shaky breath and dropped the bundle onto the grass.
He gathered a few dry sticks into a pile and used his flint to start a fire.
His hands were shaky, and it took a few tries, but the spark finally caught.
Smoke rose as the fire came to life, crackling and warm.
He sat close, letting the heat sink into his skin.
Li Fan unwrapped the bloodstained robe and pulled out a few pieces of meat—uneven, but thick enough.
He skewered them on a sharpened stick and held them over the flame, watching as it hissed and crackled. Fat dripped and sizzled as the meat cooked. The smell hit him hard.
His stomach growled.
His mouth filled with saliva, and he had to force himself not to rip into it raw.
When the meat looked brown and cooked, he didn't wait. He bit in, burning his lips and tongue—but he didn't care.
He ate like an animal.
It was the best thing he'd ever tasted.
He devoured the rest in silence, breathing hard through his nose, ignoring the heat and grease dripping down his chin.
When it was over, he leaned back, closed his eyes, and let out a long, slow breath.
The fire crackled beside him. His body still hurt. But for the first time in days…
He felt full.
---
The scent of charred meat still lingered in the air.
It wasn't much—just enough for one solid meal and a small bundle tucked away for later.
He exhaled slowly, watching the smoke trail upward through the canopy. By now, the sun had fully crested, casting narrow beams through the branches, lighting dust motes as they drifted.
He looked over his shoulder, back toward the thick forest.
His body needed rest. He could feel it in his legs, in the dull ache in his chest. But he couldn't sleep out in the open.
The fire might keep smaller animals away, but the scent of meat could attract predators.
He needed shelter. Somewhere hidden. Somewhere safe enough to close his eyes, even just for a while.
A cave.
Li Fan stood up slowly. His chest still hurt, deep in the muscle, but at least his stomach was full. That was enough to keep him moving.
He scattered the remnants of the fire with a stick, then grabbed the leftover meat bundle, tucked it under his robe, and turned east—toward the rockier edge of the forest, where the hills began.
---
It took him more than an hour to reach the base of a hill. The forest path was rough—roots twisted underfoot, thorns scraped his legs, and sweat ran down his back, even in the cool air.
But finally, he found one.
Half-hidden behind a cluster of crooked trees, nestled between moss-covered stones, was a narrow opening. Just wide enough for a person to slip through sideways.
Li Fan stared at it for a moment, cautious.
He picked up a rock and tossed it inside.
Silence.
No growl. No hissing. Nothing stirred.
He stepped forward, bent low, and slipped inside.
---
The cave was shallow—barely more than a deep hollow in the hillside—but it was dry, cool, and dark. The air smelled faintly of earth and old leaves. No signs of recent animal activity.
He sat near the entrance, back resting against the stone wall, the meat bundle still in his arms. His eyelids were heavy already.
He hadn't slept properly in days.
And now?
Now, he couldn't hold it off any longer.
Li Fan leaned his head against the wall, breathing slow and steady.
"Just a few hours…" he whispered. "That's all I need."
Outside, the wind moved through the trees.
But inside the cave, everything was still.