Traversing the rugged mountain path, he decisively dismounted and pursued the trail of blood on foot. His quarry, a limping rock goat, briefly appeared on the mountainside before disappearing into the dense thicket. The dense forest canopy allowed no sunlight through, casting deep shadows everywhere. At noon, the fruits of the peach-golden flowers still bore the previous night's dew; the forest floor was a mosaic of leaves, intertwined with gnarled roots that could easily trip the unwary.

In such an environment, tracking was arduous, yet he managed to spot a few drops of fresh blood on the leaves and a small tuft of hair against the tree bark. Yes, this was the way. It was well-known that rock goats would climb higher when faced with adversaries. He ascended swiftly, oblivious to a pair of eyes in the shadow ahead, filled with an astonishing fury and hatred.

Climbing over a large boulder on the ridge, he spotted the rock goat once more, tending to its wounds. As he reached for his bow and arrow, a swift shadow caught his peripheral vision, approaching with the speed of light. What was that? Before he could fully grasp the thought, the creature was upon him. It was a colossal leopard, its physique rivaling that of a ferocious tiger, with front paws larger than his head and fur faded as if bleached, resembling sand.

The leopard bared its fangs, and a foul stench assaulted him. Instinctively, he raised his arm to protect himself, only to hear a "crack" as his armored forearm was bitten through, unsure if it was fractured. The beast's powerful onslaught sent him tumbling down the ridge, unable to maintain his stance. The leopard entangled with him, biting and tearing frenziedly. He couldn't help but scream, yet his other hand managed to draw a short knife and repeatedly stab the beast, creating numerous bloody wounds. The weapon, sharp enough to cut through iron, inflicted severe internal injuries, with two stabs to the chest spraying blood all over him.

Every creature has an instinct for survival; even the most ferocious beast would flee from an enemy at this juncture. But this one did not! It dragged him desperately away, leaving a trail of blood behind.

Looking into the leopard's blood-red eyes, he realized it was maddened. Sand leopards should not be here; where did this cursed creature come from? It even spoke to him in human language: "You shall not have the divine bone!" "Let go, release me now!" he exclaimed, panic-stricken, stabbing the leopard's neck three times with all his might, desperate to escape. There was no way out below!

Yet, not even severe injuries could deter the leopard's advance. In the next moment, both plummeted into the abyss, entwined. Even in its dying moments, the leopard bit into his neck.

With a "snap," the amulet around his neck burst into red light and shattered. The last image seared into his vision was of four blood-stained fangs. "Ah!" He Lingchuan shouted as he sat up, startling the onlookers.

The maid closest to him stepped back in shock, and an unremarkable man appeared suddenly by his side, scanning the surroundings: "Young Master?" Before him was an exquisite hall, with intricately designed screens and a stage in the center where actors in elaborate costumes performed. The audience below, numbering over two hundred, was engrossed in snacks and tea, their attention now drawn towards him.

Indeed, he was in a private box on the second floor, the corner lit with the sweet scent of pear incense; beside him, a silver tray held grapes and honeydew melons, still dewy. This was a theater named "Picking Immortals Platform," not the edge of a hundred-foot cliff.

He Lingchuan regained his composure, instinctively touching his neck: "I am unharmed." Where there had once been four deep bite marks, only a hair's breadth from the carotid artery, now only tender, pink flesh remained. Such new scars dotted his body in at least a dozen places. And around his neck hung a necklace. He vividly remembered the round jade pendant shattering under the leopard's force, breaking into eight pieces. Somehow, upon awakening, it was intact around his neck once more.

At some point, he had developed the habit of touching it absentmindedly, as if it held an inexplicable connection to him. Another young master in the box, named Liu Baobao, observed this and snapped his fingers at his servant. The latter promptly moved to the railing and announced, "The Young Master has awakened; continue!"

The theater, known as "Picking Immortals Platform," not a hundred-foot cliff, was renowned for its innovative and