Yun Che leaned against the cold, damp stone wall, his face as pale as paper. He gritted his teeth, fighting back the nearly soul-shattering pain in his right arm, struggling to stand as he began to assess the place that had saved his life but might also become his tomb.

  It was a small natural cave, about ten feet across, with jagged, monstrous stones forming the ceiling. The only entrance was the spot where he had fallen, and now, the light from the outside cliff was filtering in, illuminating the interior of the cave. The floor was covered with a thick layer of ash and the decayed bones of birds and beasts—of various sizes, from different times, exuding a musty, cold, and fetid smell.

  His eyes suddenly fixed on a spot not far behind him, on the stone wall. There, he saw a hole about the size of a fist—its edges smooth, its depths black as night, impossible to see the end of. A thought flashed through his mind like a lightning bolt: the eerie, pulling force that had saved him, yet caused him further injury, had come from this very spot! The bones on the floor—likely the same fate as him—had been pulled in, only to fall to their deaths or be trapped here.

  The pull seemed to come in intervals. When he had fallen, it had been timed perfectly, sparing him from becoming a bloody mess on the rocks. Understanding this brought Yun Che some peace, and he endured the pain as he carefully shuffled toward the entrance, hoping to see a way out.

  However, he had barely taken two steps—

  Whoosh!

  There was no wind in the cave, but the bones on the ground suddenly rustled, all of them sliding backward!

  Yun Che’s scalp went numb, and without thinking, he threw himself sideways, rolling into a hollow in the stone near the entrance, pressing himself tightly against the wall.

  Just as he hid, an even stronger, uncontrollable force exploded from the small hole!

  “Whoosh—!”

  The bones on the ground were as if caught by an invisible hand, all rushing toward the hole. Larger bones slammed against the stone wall, blocking the entrance. Yet, the suction did not lessen; instead, it let out an eerie, whistling shriek. In that instant, a grey shadow flashed outside the cave, a poor mountain sparrow flying by without any resistance, sucked into the hole. It collided with the pile of bones, and with a wet plop, its flesh splattered as it died on impact.

  Yun Che lay flat against the corner, holding his breath, his heart pounding. If he had not reacted in time, his fate would have been no different from that sparrow’s.

  The terrifying force lasted for about an hour, gradually retreating like a receding tide. The cave returned to its suffocating silence, leaving only the fresh, bloody scent mixed with the stale air, stinging his nostrils.

  Yun Che waited another half-hour, ensuring the suction had completely stopped before daring to move his stiff limbs. Cautiously, he approached the entrance and peered down.

  Below, at least a dozen yards beneath, lay a dense, unfamiliar primeval forest, with bizarre rocks and steep cliffs covered in slick moss. In his current condition—his right arm injured and his stamina depleted—it was impossible for him to climb down. A direct jump would mean certain death.

  Worse still, his food package had been left at the mountaintop before he fell. Without food or water, he faced a dire situation.

  He backed into the cave, leaned against the stone wall, and forced himself to calm down, beginning to silently calculate his next move. After observing the cycles of the force several times, he had roughly figured out its pattern: it lasted about an hour, then ceased for half an hour, repeating over and over.

  A day passed quickly in hunger, pain, and quiet observation. As evening approached, the temperature in the cave dropped sharply. The cold made his weakening body feel even more fragile. His right arm had swelled even more, turning purple, and it was nearly impossible to move it.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “Trapped here, I’ll die without a doubt. Jumping off the cliff, ten chances out of ten to die…” Yun Che gazed at the deepening twilight outside the cave and bitterly smiled. This was true despair.

  His eyes fell on the dead mountain sparrow from earlier. Its body was still fresh with blood, and the stench of decay filled the air. His throat was dry, and his stomach churned with an intense repulsion.

  Survival… or dignity?

  He had little time to hesitate. Before the next wave of suction might arrive, Yun Che squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, a cold, beastly determination had replaced the despair in his gaze. He staggered toward the bird's corpse, grabbed it with trembling hands, and without another thought, shoved it into his mouth, biting down hard!

  The rough feathers, warm blood, and tough flesh—the nauseating smell flooded his senses instantly. He barely chewed, relying on sheer willpower to force it down. His stomach violently spasmed, but a warmth spread through him as he swallowed, helping to dispel the cold and weakness. He devoured the rest of the bird but stopped when a wave of nausea nearly overtook him. He stumbled to the entrance of the cave and gasped for cold air, barely keeping the bile down.

  He tossed the remaining bird carcass into a corner and slumped back against the wall. Though he had gained a small amount of energy, the mental exhaustion and despair in his heart grew deeper. In the darkness, images flashed uncontrollably in his mind: the sight of his parents waiting for him at the village gate with tears in their eyes, Yun Han’s mocking smile, the cold declaration of “fateless” at Hundred Implements Cliff, and the chilling betrayal of relatives at the banquet…

  In the foggy haze, his eyes unconsciously fell on the half-eaten bird corpse next to him. Suddenly, his gaze froze.

  Amid the blood and broken organs, something unusual caught his eye.

  His heart skipped a beat. He quickly grabbed the bird corpse, ignoring the disgust, and began pulling apart the sticky innards. Inside, he found something the size of an infant’s fist, round and smooth, covered in blood, its true nature obscured.

  Yun Che carefully pried it out, wiping away most of the blood on his torn sleeve. To his surprise, it was not as soft as he expected. Instead, it was hard and cold to the touch.

  He paused, inspecting the object under the last bits of light coming from the cave entrance. The blood was wiped away, revealing a dull, grayish, unremarkable stone bead. Its surface was not very smooth, slightly rough, and on closer inspection, faint cloud-like patterns were engraved on it. Due to wear and stains, the design was unclear, but the aura it emitted was ancient and weathered.

  “Heh…” Yun Che chuckled bitterly to himself, his voice echoing in the silent cave. “Yun Che, you’re really at the end of the line, thinking too much. How could there be an inner core of some mythical beast in a bird's stomach... It’s just a stubborn rock that the bird accidentally swallowed.”

  Disappointment struck him like a bucket of ice-cold water. But on instinct, he pressed the bead between his teeth. It was unyielding and hard. He rubbed it a few more times, feeling the rough texture. With the last of his hopes shattered, he casually tossed the bead aside, near a pile of drier animal bones, and slumped back against the wall.

  “Forget it; let fate decide.”

  The cold mountain night outside the cave was freezing. The chilling wind cutting through the entrance felt like knives. Yun Che curled up in the corner, hugging his thin, ragged clothes. The cold, hunger, and pain made him drift into a light sleep, and as his consciousness faded, the last thought in his mind was, "Will I see the sun tomorrow?"

  As dawn approached, the first faint rays of light filtered into the cave.

  Yun Che woke, shivering from the cold. His right arm throbbed with more pain, and simple movements were excruciating. Despair settled heavily over him once again.

  He struggled to sit up and scanned the cave with dazed eyes. Suddenly, something caught his attention.

  On the surface of the gray stone bead he had discarded and on the nearby smoother bones, a layer of delicate, glistening dew had formed. Under the morning light, it gleamed faintly, almost translucent.

  The cave’s chill and the temperature difference inside and outside had caused condensation, but now, Yun Che’s throat was dry, and his mouth felt like it was on fire. Carefully, he picked up a bone covered in dew, brought it to his lips, and gently licked the droplets.

  A refreshing, slightly sweet coolness immediately soothed his parched throat, flowing down into his stomach. Then, a warmth spread from his stomach, rapidly radiating through his limbs. Even more astonishing, the swelling and burning pain in his right arm eased, replaced by a distinct sense of relief, as though fine threads of heat were weaving through his muscles and bones, mending them!

  He quickly lifted his arm and stared at it in shock. Though the change was subtle, the horrifying purple-black swelling had visibly receded to a small circle! He moved it, and though it still hurt, the terrifying feeling of his bones possibly cracking, of his muscles being frozen, had greatly diminished!

  “This stone bead… is a treasure! A real treasure!” Yun Che tightened his grip around the bead. Its coldness now felt electrifying to him. The joy of survival mixed with awe at this unknown object, filling him with wonder.

  Leaning against the stone wall, he slowly sat down, his gaze fixed on the small hole that had emitted the terrifying force earlier, then turned back to the unremarkable gray bead in his hand.

  This place of death… it seemed that there might be a glimmer of hope after all.