Hu Yulun was still alone, wandering in solitude and determination across the vast, mysterious Eria Continent. His somewhat thin and weary figure appeared so small and insignificant in this boundless, desolate expanse, like a grain of sand in the ocean, liable to be swallowed at any moment.
However, his slightly puffed-out chest seemed to hold infinite strength, and each breath carried a sense of stubbornness. His tightly pursed lips, with their taut lines, revealed an unwavering resolve. The determined glint in his eyes, like a brilliant star in the dark night, shone brightly, filled with defiance and resistance against fate. He was like a lone poplar tree standing in the wilderness, swaying violently in the strong wind, its branches rustling and its leaves sighing in pain, yet never bowing its head, always holding onto its inner beliefs.
Hu Yulun took heavy but steady steps, each one seeming to carry the weight of a thousand pounds, his footfalls kicking up tiny clouds of dust. He seemed to be declaring his resolve to the land itself, a resolve as firm as a rock, unshakeable.
He would occasionally lift his head, gazing at the unknown horizon in the distance, his gaze profound and far-reaching, as if able to pierce through layers of fog and reach the other side of his dreams. He silently encouraged himself, "No matter how many difficulties and obstacles lie ahead, I will not give up. I, Hu Yulun, will certainly forge a path of my own!"
The wind playfully tousled his hair, the strands dancing wildly in the air. He casually brushed them back with his hand, a slight frown creasing his brow, a flicker of impatience in his eyes, before continuing his journey. His somewhat gaunt back, bathed in the afterglow of the setting sun, was stretched long and thin, like an extension of his indomitable will, reaching all the way to the distant horizon, disappearing into the golden light.
"I don't believe I can't make a name for myself!" he gritted his teeth, growling under his breath, his footsteps becoming even more firm and powerful.
He trudged through towering, precipitous mountain ranges that were breathtakingly steep. The peaks were like the earth's giant hands reaching towards the sky, as if with endless longing to break through the heavy constraints of the heavens and touch the unreachable boundaries. The jagged, grotesque rocks resembled the sharp, deadly fangs of a demon, terrifying and chilling, as if they would devour someone at any moment.
The surfaces of the mountains were covered with deep and shallow, crisscrossing gullies, like shocking, massive wounds, appearing increasingly grotesque with the erosion of time. There were also the abrupt, craggy rocks, like deep scars carved by the merciless blade of time, silently recounting the vicissitudes and tragedies of the past. The towering cliffs were like a giant vertical curtain, so steep and dangerous that a single glance would make one's legs go weak and one's heart tremble, as if the soul itself would be torn away by the terrifying sight.
As he climbed, each step was cautious, like a fragile dancer walking a tightrope. His hands gripped the cracks in the rock tightly, his knuckles white with the strain, even trembling slightly. His feet searched for stable footholds, and any slight sway would send a chill of sweat down his spine. Beads of sweat covered his forehead, glistening droplets sliding down his cheeks, gathering at his chin before falling into the crevices below. His eyes were filled with determination and caution, his gaze seemingly piercing the difficulties ahead, yet unable to conceal a trace of fear.
Because he knew full well that with the slightest misstep, he would fall into the bottomless, dark, and ominous abyss, an entrance to hell itself. Once he lost his footing, he would be instantly and mercilessly swallowed by the endless darkness, his body shattered, and he would disappear completely from this vast world, as if he had never existed.
"I must stay steady, I can't be careless. I can definitely reach the summit!" He encouraged himself inwardly, his teeth biting into his lip, leaving deep marks. Even though the mountain wind howled past his ears, its sound like the wild roar of a beast, he dared not be distracted for a moment, focusing all his attention on climbing towards the summit, as if that summit was the shore of his life.
"Come on, almost there!" He gasped for breath, encouraging himself. The veins on his neck bulged, and each step upwards seemed to exhaust all his strength.
His steps were heavy, as if dragging a thousand-pound boulder, as he struggled through a vast, mysterious, and eerily deep forest, like an endless maze. The trees in the forest towered, their thick trunks like ancient and sturdy pillars, as if supporting the entire sky with their unyielding strength, their imposing and solemn aura inspiring awe. The dense branches and leaves intertwined, forming a dense green canopy that blocked out the light, making the interior of the forest dark and gloomy, like a mysterious world forever shrouded in darkness, filled with unknown riddles and unfathomable dangers.
The ominous atmosphere permeated the area like an impenetrable ink, with occasional low growls of wild beasts echoing in the deathly silence, like muffled, oppressive drumbeats, striking his taut nerves relentlessly. Strange sounds from an unknown source, like the eerie whispers of ghosts at his ears, were terrifying and frightening. Each step forward felt like stepping into an unknown, fatal trap, and any carelessness could lead to eternal damnation.
The ground was covered with a thick layer of decaying leaves. Each step he took produced a "crunch" sound, which was particularly clear and piercing in the deathly silence, as if the forest was protesting against his intrusion. The decaying leaves emitted a pungent, rotten smell. The damp air was filled with a thick mist, blurring his vision, and the scene before him was like a hazy, illusory ink painting, filled with unknown dangers.
He frowned, his eyebrows almost knotted together, his eyes as vigilant as a frightened bird ready to flee, muttering to himself, "This place is too weird, I need to be careful." His voice trembled slightly, with unconcealable fear, and even his lips were involuntarily trembling.
He stopped from time to time, his body stiffening in place as he strained to hear the sounds around him. His heart pounded in his chest, threatening to leap out of his throat, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. Sweat trickled down his forehead like winding streams, sliding down his taut cheeks and disappearing as they dripped onto the decaying leaves.
"Please don't let anything happen. Please, please don't," he silently prayed, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He continued to cautiously feel his way forward, each step measured and hesitant.
He took a deep breath, steeling his resolve, and prepared to challenge those wide, raging rivers with their rolling waves. The swift currents roared like a herd of wild horses, recklessly crashing against the iron-hard rocks on the banks, sending up sprays of water as white as snow. The water soared high, then crashed down with a deafening roar that seemed to shake the world. The icy water felt like piercing needles, cruelly stinging his skin, causing him to gasp and shiver uncontrollably, his teeth chattering.
The hidden whirlpools in the water were like the gaping maws of demons, their black, swirling centers seemingly concealing endless terrors, always ready to drag him down into a bottomless, dark abyss. The submerged reefs were like cunning beasts lurking in the shadows, eyeing him hungrily, waiting to smash against his fragile body, to tear him apart, leaving not a trace behind.
He stood at the riverbank, staring at the surging, all-consuming water. His heart pounded, and his face instantly turned ashen. His legs felt like they had no bones. This river is too terrifying. Can I even get across? he wondered, considering retreat. But, thinking of his goal, he gritted his teeth, a hint of determination flashing in his eyes. "No matter what, I'll give it everything!"
He stepped into the water, and the force of the current made him stagger, swaying like a drunkard. He struggled to take each step, each one feeling as if he were dragging a mountain. The veins on his forehead bulged, and the muscles in his face contorted with the effort.
"I have to make it!" he roared in his mind, his voice seeming to penetrate the raging river. Suddenly, a huge wave crashed down, and he stumbled, his body lunging forward, nearly falling.
"Oh no!" he cried out, his heart leaping into his throat, his breathing becoming rapid. "It's over, it's over, I'm going to fall in!"
"Steady! Steady!" Hu Yulun shouted to himself, his hands frantically paddling in the water like two panicked oars, struggling to keep his balance.
However, every difficult and dangerous experience was like a raging fire mercilessly forging steel, making his already unwavering will even more resilient, like iron, and unbreakable, as if no force could shake it. His heart also became stronger and more unyielding, like a wall of bronze and iron, and no setback could make him yield.
It was precisely because of this that, in this long, arduous, and thorny journey, in every fierce struggle against adversity, in every moment of utter exhaustion yet clenched teeth, he gained a deeper, clearer, and more comprehensive understanding of the existence of this mysterious organization and its far-reaching influence.
The Organization was like an invisible, giant net, silently enveloping this vast continent. It was like a heavy haze, ruthlessly obscuring the warm sunlight, leaving people trembling in fear under its shadow.
And he, Hu Yulun, his gaze was as resolute as the brilliant stars in the night sky, the light bright and scorching, as if it could pierce through endless darkness. He clenched his fists, the knuckles turning pale from the force, his teeth clenched tightly on his lower lip. He silently made a solemn vow in his heart: "No matter the cost, even if it means shedding my last drop of blood and sacrificing my life, I am determined to uncover the hidden dark secrets behind this, and let the light shine upon this land again!" His voice echoed in his heart, filled with a desperate resolve and fearless courage.
"Just you wait, I will definitely succeed!" he roared in his heart, his unwavering belief like a burning torch, illuminating the path ahead.
Near the ruins of an ancient castle, ravaged by time, Hu Yulun was pacing anxiously. He furrowed his brow, and fine beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, shimmering in the setting sun like anxious pearls. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and his steps were hurried and chaotic, as if the ground beneath his feet had become a scorching iron plate. The inner turmoil made him like an ant on a hot pan, constantly rubbing his hands, muttering to himself, "What should I do? How can I find a clue?"
Suddenly, his gaze was drawn to a figure: The Bard, a wandering minstrel. The Bard carried a worn-out, almost falling-apart harp on his back, its paint peeling off in patches. The harp looked like an old man nearing the end of his days, every scratch and wear telling a story of the past. His weathered face was etched with deep wrinkles, each one like a mark meticulously carved by the relentless knife of time, profound and moving. His skin was rough and dark, like the bark of an old tree weathered by wind and sun, rough but with a kind of resilience born of experience. His deep eyes held a sense of detachment, as if he had seen through all of life's experiences, as if the changing winds of the world were nothing more than fleeting clouds, unable to stir the slightest ripple in his heart.
Hu Yulun's eyes instantly lit up as if he had grasped a life-saving straw, and he rushed forward, taking three steps at a time. His eyes were filled with anticipation and longing, which was like a drought-stricken land yearning for rain. His voice trembled slightly, like a falling leaf in the wind: "Sir, do you know anything about the mysterious Organization?" His voice carried a hint of urgency and a slight sob, his body leaning forward slightly, his hands unconsciously grabbing The Bard's sleeve, his fingers turning white from the force, his gaze fixed on The Bard's face, fearing he would miss any subtle expression.
The Bard narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze suddenly becoming distant and profound, as if his thoughts had broken free from the constraints of reality and were carried back to the distant past on the wings of time. He was silent for a long moment, his eyes hazy, as if immersed in those distant memories. Then, he stroked his sparse and messy beard, his movements slow and gentle, as if he were caressing the traces of time. He slowly began to speak: "Child, this mysterious Organization has been lurking in the long river of history, like an elusive phantom, difficult to grasp."
The Bard coughed lightly, a muffled sound coming from his throat. He cleared his throat, his voice carrying a hint of age and hoarseness, and continued: "They seem to possess an extraordinary and unfathomable wisdom and inexhaustible resources. Their power is so great that they can secretly influence the development of many major events, like an invisible hand, controlling everything behind the scenes."
The Bard's expression turned serious. He frowned slightly, deepening the lines on his face. He raised his voice, which became impassioned, and gestured with his hands as he recounted legendary tales of ancient wars. "In those brutal wars, with their flames, smoke, and fields of corpses, there were always faint, ghostly shadows of The Organization."
Hu Yulun listened intently, his eyes fixed on The Bard. He leaned forward, practically straining to hear, his ears perked up as if to absorb every word, fearing he'd miss a crucial detail. His breathing became shallow, and his heart leaped into his throat, as if afraid to disturb the precious narration. "Really? What happened then?" Hu Yulun interjected, his eyes filled with urgency and curiosity.
From The Bard's vivid and gripping tale, Hu Yulun felt like he had miraculously caught a glimpse of sparkling hope in a dark, despairing tunnel. He frowned, his thick, dark eyebrows furrowing tightly, forming a deep "川" shape that wouldn't relax. He seemed frozen in place, lost in deep thought, unmoving like a statue. He muttered to himself, "There must be clues," his voice low, but resonating with unwavering conviction. He slowly opened his eyes, a look of determination in them. He began to carefully sort through everything he knew, closing his eyes as a jumble of fragmented memories flashed through his mind like a revolving lantern. His fingers unconsciously tapped his forehead, again and again, the rhythm erratic, as if it were the drumbeat of his inner anxiety. His nostrils flared, and his breathing quickened as he tried to piece together the complete picture of this mysterious organization from the complex, tangled information, as if trying to reconstruct a complete and clear picture from a fragmented, directionless jigsaw puzzle. "I must sort out these clues, I must!" Hu Yulun gritted his teeth, encouraging himself, and fine beads of sweat formed on his forehead again.
Hu Yulun struggled forward on this long, thorny, and winding path of exile. His face was etched with weariness and hardship, his eyes filled with confusion and helplessness. However, surprisingly, he also encountered some kind-hearted people.
They were like warm rays of light in the dark night sky, offering him endless kindness and warmth, extending their helping hands. Their faces were filled with friendly smiles, their eyes with concern and compassion.
Once, he was dragging his leaden feet, trudging along the uneven road. Each step felt as if pulled by an invisible force, using up every last bit of his remaining strength. His face was as pale as paper, devoid of any color, like withered grass covered in frost, lifeless. His body swayed precariously, like a candle in the wind, likely to be extinguished at any moment. His face was haggard, his eyes deeply sunken into their sockets, his cheekbones protruding, his cheeks appearing as though a layer of flesh had been scraped away. He looked gaunt, as though a gentle breeze could knock him down.
Just then, a kind-hearted Farmer's Wife came walking towards him. She was wearing a rough linen garment, with a faded apron tied around her waist, and a blue headscarf covering her head. She was walking with a steady pace, holding a basket of freshly picked vegetables from the field. When her eyes inadvertently fell on Hu Yulun, she widened them in surprise, her eyes filled with heartache and pity. Her mouth opened slightly in astonishment, and she almost dropped the basket in her hands.
She quickly took three steps at a time, and reached out to grasp Hu Yulun's emaciated arm. Her hands, though rough and covered with the marks of time and labor, were warm and strong, as if possessing a magic that could give people strength. She said urgently, "Child, come with me." Then, she hurriedly pulled him toward her house, her hurried footsteps creating a breeze that fluttered her clothes.
Entering the house, The Farmer's Wife didn't stop for a moment. She bustled about in the kitchen, the clatter of pots and pans weaving together into a warm melody. Soon, she brought him a steaming hot meal, fragrant and inviting. The heat from the food rose, like a soft veil, blurring Hu Yulun's eyes and making his vision hazy. The aroma of the food instantly filled the entire room, with fragrant rice, tender green vegetables, and a large piece of fatty, braised pork.
Hu Yulun looked at the meal before him, his throat involuntarily choked, tears welling up in his eyes. He trembled, his lips quivering as he said, "Auntie, I..." Before he could finish, his voice became hoarse.
The Farmer's Wife gently patted his shoulder and said with a smile, "Child, don't say anything, eat quickly."
Hu Yulun devoured his meal, The Farmer's Wife watching quietly from the side, her eyes filled with kindness.
After the meal, The Farmer's Wife thoughtfully prepared a warm and comfortable corner for him, laying out soft bedding. The bedding carried the scent of sunshine, as if it could dispel all cold and fatigue. She whispered, "Child, sleep well."
Hu Yulun's tears finally spilled over, and he said, his voice choked with sobs, "Auntie, you are truly a good person. I don't know how to repay you."
The Farmer's Wife gently wiped away his tears and said softly, "Child, don't think too much. Get a good night's sleep, and things will get better tomorrow."
Another time, his boots, which were originally quite sturdy and durable, were now tattered and nearly falling apart after a long journey of hardship and exposure to the elements. The uppers were severely worn, and the originally tough leather was now covered with crisscrossing scratches and large and small holes, as if silently recounting the hardships of the journey. The soles were as thin as fragile rice paper. With every step, he could feel sharp stones piercing through the soles, ruthlessly pricking his feet. The pain was like countless fine needles, making him grimace, his eyebrows furrowing into a deep "川" shape, and his face twisting slightly with the pain.
Just as Hu Yulun was frowning, filled with helplessness and sighing at his tattered boots, unsure of what to do, a burly, good-natured Blacksmith appeared before him like a savior. The Blacksmith wore a leather apron riddled with small holes from sparks, the mottled marks looking like medals earned over time. The muscles on his thick arms bulged, looking like solid stone and brimming with strength. Sweat from his labor glistened on his face under the afternoon sun, like glittering gems.
Without a word, the Blacksmith strode over, snatched the boots from Hu Yulun's hands. The movement was clean and decisive, with a hearty air, as if it were no trouble at all. Then, in a gruff voice, he said, "This ain't no big deal, leave it to me!" With that, he turned and marched to his workbench. His broad back gave off an incredibly reliable feeling.
The Blacksmith immediately picked up his tools and started repairing the boots with a clanging sound. His eyes were focused and unwavering, his hammer striking with powerful blows. Each strike seemed to carry endless strength. The crisp sound of hammering echoed in the small blacksmith shop, like an inspiring battle song. Sparks flew, illuminating his resolute face. Fine beads of sweat formed on his forehead due to concentration, but his hands never stopped, moving with skill and precision.
Before long, the boots were repaired. The Blacksmith put down his tools, casually wiped the sweat from his forehead with his rough sleeve, stood up, and walked over to Hu Yulun with steady steps. He grabbed Hu Yulun's arm, his hands like iron clamps. Then, the Blacksmith patted his shoulder firmly, his eyes firm and burning, as if they could ignite a spark of hope, encouraging him: "Hang in there, kid! The road ahead is still long."
Hu Yulun looked at the Blacksmith gratefully, his eyes slightly red, sparkling with tears. His voice trembled slightly, his lips quivering as he said, "Brother, thank you so much. If it weren't for you, I really don't know what I would have done. I've suffered so much on this journey. If these boots broke again, I really would have felt like I couldn't go on."
The Blacksmith laughed heartily, his laughter deafening, as if it could pierce the clouds. He waved his big hand and said, "No need to thank me. Everyone needs help when they're away from home. It's no big deal. Go on, don't delay your journey!"
Hu Yulun nodded heavily, his eyes full of determination and gratitude. He carefully put on the repaired boots, took a few steps, and immediately broke into a relieved smile. His steps became much lighter. He took a deep look at the Blacksmith, silently noting his kindness in his heart. Then, he turned and, with determined steps, continued on his journey. At this moment, his heart was filled with warmth and strength, as if no hardship or obstacle could stop him from moving forward.
These acts of kindness were like a radiant ray of sunshine breaking through the thick clouds of winter. With its dazzling and burning light, it forcefully broke through the bonds of darkness and cold, allowing Hu Yulun to truly feel a touch of warmth on this long, dark, and cold road of exile that seemed to have no end. The warmth was like a gentle stream, flowing softly and soothingly into his heart, which was almost dry and full of wounds. It was like sweet rain nourishing a long-parched land, giving his tormented soul a moment's respite, and allowing his weary body and mind to rest briefly.
However, every time that fleeting warmth vanished like a dream, he would immediately snap out of his momentary comfort. Hu Yulun frowned deeply, his brow furrowed into a tight knot that wouldn't loosen. His eyes radiated determination, his teeth were clenched, and his lips trembled slightly. He silently warned himself: "Hu Yulun, you mustn't pause for a moment, nor can you indulge in this brief comfort. You must know that you bear a heavy burden, a responsibility you cannot shirk, a vow you must fulfill. You must continue to move forward, unwavering. No matter how many hardships and obstacles lie ahead, no matter how rugged and uneven the path, they cannot stop you. Until you uncover the truth about The Organization, and restore justice to yourself and your family!"
Hu Yulun inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He clenched his fists, the knuckles turning pale from the force, as if he wanted to firmly grasp his unwavering resolve. He slowly raised his head, gazing into the distance, his eyes burning with an unyielding flame, and murmured, "I can definitely do it, definitely!" His voice, though low, carried an iron will, echoing on the empty road, like the strongest declaration of war against fate.
He paused, then, as if making a vow to himself, he said, "Even if it costs me everything, I will never retreat!" With that, he straightened his back, took firm steps, and continued forward without hesitation, his figure appearing even taller and more resolute in the setting sun.