The tent was dimly lit, with only a few strands of daylight filtering through the cracks in the animal hides.
Gu Liang had curled up in icy terror for an unknown length of time when the animal skin curtain was suddenly yanked open. A Lie's towering figure blocked the entrance, holding a bloody piece of raw meat and a rough clay bowl filled with clear water.
He tossed the items onto the animal hide before Gu Liang, splashing water onto the ground. A Lie pointed at the raw meat, then at Gu Liang's mouth, uttering a short, commanding syllable.
Gu Liang's stomach churned violently. Staring at the meat, still dripping with blood and reeking of its raw, primal essence, he shook his head violently.
A Lie frowned, a flicker of impatience flashing through his golden pupils. He stepped forward, picked up the raw meat, and shoved it directly toward Gu Liang's mouth.
Gu Liang clenched his jaw, struggling fiercely, his head jerking back violently. The heavy, metallic taste of blood and the other man's rough actions made him nearly retch.
Seeing Gu Liang's fierce resistance, A Lie growled lowly. His free hand shot out like lightning, seizing the wrist that clutched the military knife with pinpoint accuracy. Agonizing pain shot through his bones as if they were being crushed. Gu Liang's fingers went numb, and the Swiss Army knife flew from his grasp, landing on the nearby animal hide.Immediately, that hand clamped down on his jaw with such force it nearly crushed the bone. Gu Liang cried out in pain, his jaw forced open a crack.
Deprived of his last line of defense, a cold despair instantly engulfed Gu Liang. The nauseating feel of raw flesh pressed against his lips, the pungent stench of blood assaulting his nostrils.
In that critical moment, his other hand frantically, silently groped across the animal hide—finally, his fingertips touched that familiar cold metal once more!
Without hesitation, he pressed the blade not toward A Lie, but precisely against the pulsing artery at his own throat. He even drove the edge into his skin, and a vivid streak of blood immediately began to trail downward.
A Lie's movements froze. He stared at the glaring scar of blood on Gu Liang's neck, then at those eyes burning with defiance and despair, tinged with a hint of madness. The hand clenched around his chin slowly relaxed.
The two stood facing each other in the dim light, the air thick with nothing but heavy breathing.
Finally, A Lie snorted coldly and tossed the raw meat back onto the ground. He pointed at the clay bowl on the floor, then at Gu Liang, his meaning clear—at least drink the water.
With that, he turned away without another glance at Gu Liang, stepping out of the tent to give further orders to the guards.
Gu Liang's body went limp, the military knife slipping from his grasp. Staring at the raw meat and clear water on the ground, his throat felt painfully parched. After a moment's struggle, he finally lifted the clay bowl and began sipping slowly. The water flowed down his dry throat, bringing a fleeting clarity.
For the next few days, Gu Liang's freedom was restricted. The tent became his prison, guarded day and night by two burly beastmen.
A Lie entered daily, sometimes bearing food—still raw meat—other times merely standing there, scrutinizing him with those golden pupils as if appraising an untamed prey. Gu Liang remained perpetually alert, his Swiss Army knife never leaving his side.
Occasionally, Alei would attempt to draw near, his fingers tracing Gu Liang's cheek or arm with an unsettling mix of probing curiosity and possessive intent. Each time, Gu Liang would instantly flash the blade, either pointing it at the other or pressing it firmly against his own vital points.
After several such incidents, Alei seemed to temporarily abandon his attempts at forced intimacy, though the aggression in his eyes only intensified.
Through the occasionally parted curtain, Gu Liang caught glimpses of this primitive tribe. He saw strong males grinding stone tools and processing game; females gathered around the fire, tanning hides and tending to young cubs; and young beastmen chasing each other, practicing throwing and running.The entire camp pulsed with a rugged, bustling energy, filled with the constant clamor of incomprehensible voices day and night.
He observed that Alei held a distinct status within the tribe. The beastmen clearly revered him, instinctively yielding their path and offering him the finest cuts of game. Yet their interactions remained sparse, marked by a distant formality. Even the calm, claw-scarred male—apparently the tribe's leader—addressed Alei with equal footing, bordering on cautious deference.
One day, the camp erupted in commotion. Excited shouts and horn blasts echoed from afar. Through the tent flap, Gu Liang saw many burly males gathering, weapons in hand, faces aglow with pre-hunt excitement. A Lie was among them, exchanging brief words with the chief before accepting a heavy stone axe handed to him.
Before departure, A Lie lifted the tent flap and stepped inside. His mood seemed different today, a wild gleam dancing in his golden pupils. He strode up to Gu Liang, once again using that same finger to jab forcefully at Gu Liang's chest, then at his own, repeating the syllable signifying possession.
Then he gestured toward the noisy group outside, pointed back at Gu Liang, and finally gestured downward toward the ground—a clear command for Gu Liang to stay put. His gaze lingered briefly on the Swiss Army knife clenched in Gu Liang's hand, carrying a hint of warning, before he turned and walked away.
The hunting party departed in a grand procession, yet the camp's atmosphere remained far from calm. The females and elder beastmen busied themselves tending the fires and preparing tools for processing the kill, an expectant restlessness permeating the air.
The guards outside the tents remained vigilant.
Gu Liang curled up on the animal hide, listening to the sounds outside, his unease growing thicker by the moment. The possessive glint in A Lie's eyes and the way he'd moved before leaving felt more suffocating than ever before.
He knew the temporary calm was an illusion. That golden beast had merely been distracted by the hunt; sooner or later, it would return to continue its "taming."
As night deepened, the campfire in the center burned brighter. Distant cheers of the returning hunting party grew louder and closer.
Gu Liang gripped his Swiss Army knife tightly, its cold metal the only anchor in his grasp. Outside the animal-hide curtain, heavy footsteps drew nearer.