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──❝The Resurrection of the Patriarch❞──

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──❝The Resurrection of the Patriarch❞──

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〖 Mo Village, 13 Years Later 〗

The night sky unfurled above like an obsidian tapestry, a canvas strewn with a myriad of celestial gems. Countless stars adorned the deep, velvety expanse, some twinkling like distant lanterns while others gleamed with unwavering brilliance. The moon, a luminous orb, cast its silvery glow, etching faint patterns upon the earth below. Amidst this celestial symphony, the night was not silent. The rustle of leaves played a soft percussion, carried by the gentle whispers of the wind that swirled among the trees. A distant chorus of crickets serenaded the darkness, their chirps blending seamlessly with the occasional hoot of an owl in the distance. In the midst of these natural melodies, the sound of a donkey grazing added its own rhythm to the nocturnal orchestra. A gentle munching sound interwove with the rustling of grass and the occasional soft snort, as the donkey indulged in its late-night feast, contributing a rustic, earthy melody to the otherwise serene nocturnal symphony.

At that poignant juncture, a young man emerged, his stature diminutive yet not overly so. His slender frame bore a fragility that some might use as an excuse for ridicule. However, it was his countenance that seized attention—a visage graced with delicately upturned lips. Yet, most striking were the stark contrasts embellishing his face: painted in ghostly white with roughened cheeks, rendering him akin to a specter of the hanged. Amidst soft, indistinct whispers that gently escaped his lips, he readied himself for a soul-wrenching act, a summoning of evil forces. Knelt within a small, open barn, the earth's rough offerings of hay and stones scraped against his robes. With fervor akin to desperation, he intoned archaic incantations, each word resonating with ancient power. The moonlight, casting its eerie luminescence upon his pallid complexion, added a spectral allure to the ominous theater of the ritual.

"With my blood, drawn by my hand." Drawing blood, he traced intricate patterns upon the ground, crimson staining his trembling fingertips. Every action was meticulously orchestrated, and every drop was a part of his design. He had reached his breaking point. His fervent hope rested on the chance that Wei Wuxian would heed his call, exacting vengeance upon the Mo family in his stead. An aura of infernal energy coalesced, swirling around him in an ominous dance—an essence both hauntingly familiar and eerily foreign. At first, it latched onto his blood, almost hungrily absorbing it, seemingly nourished by his desperation and agony, before extending its reach across the intricate patterns he had meticulously drawn. It coursed through his being, a tempestuous surge that ignited his resolve, each pulsation a catalyst blurring the once distinct boundary between humanity and the monstrous. "I sacrifice my body to you; my soul shall disappear..." 

He resembled a lunatic man, eyes widened in a frenzied stare, tension weaving a taut web between his furrowed brows. His lips quivered with speech, yet within him blazed an unyielding resolve. The demonic energy surged, accumulating into a swirling vortex of mist looming ominously above the shed. It descended upon Mo Xuanyu in a torrent, a maelstrom of black and crimson hues crackling and weaving around him, creating an aura that cracked with malevolent power. The donkey, who was tied up, began panicking and braying loudly, its hooves kicking up dust as it struggled against its restraints. Mo Xuanyu continued, his voice heavy with desolation and commanding as if his every word echoed with solemnity and an unyielding demand, resonating like the implacable toll of a bell, marking an irreversible decree. "Humbly, I await you, Yiling Patriarch, Wei Wuxian!" 

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