In the dim River God Temple.
The towering statue was shrouded in shadow, its kindly face seeming faintly eerie.
The plump woman in a green robe lay across the altar, both hands gripping its edge. The whole table, statue and all, rocked violently with the rise and fall of her body.
Her neck arched high, veins bulging. Beneath the layers of fat on her face, her features seemed proper and refined—and bore a striking resemblance to the statue.
"Haah!"
Compared with the River God's benevolence, her features were now twisted, her eyes rolled back, and she struggled to breathe. She looked almost savage.
Behind her stood a young man with a somewhat boyish face and a vicious gaze. Bare-chested, he had mottled black scales covering his back. Countless scabbed-over wounds, dark red in color, covered his body like a spiderweb.
Most eye-catching of all was the horn on his forehead, about as thick as a little finger.
The young man stared intently at the River God statue, baring a row of ghastly white fangs. "Is this you?"
"It is!"
At the woman's long sigh, the horned youth trembled all over. He grabbed her by the head and slammed it hard against the table.
Then he opened his mouth and bit into her neck. As the blood gurgled down his throat, he swallowed greedily, and the wounds on his body healed a little more.
The plump woman convulsed, but the yearning on her face only grew more intense, as if being devoured by him were some tremendous honor.
"Pah! You reek of fish."
The youth's brow twitched as he wiped his lips, clearly displeased. "I want a potent medicine!"
The bodies of martial artists contained the richest essence of heaven and earth, making them peerless treasures.
The River God stood up