Chapter 529 That Little Flower
Thirteen years ago, Fu Qiran was 13 years old.

That year, he left the Fu family and went to the dark forest.

It is said to be a dark forest, but it is actually an artificial name.

To be precise, there is a hunting ground.

A hunting ground where winners live and losers die.

There, there are beasts that ordinary people can hardly imagine.

There are also people from all over the world.

Their purpose of entering the hunting ground is not the same, the only goal is to survive.

Survive to get what you want.

At that time, the Fu family was in the hands of Fu Taiheng.

That person never wanted Fu Qiran to die.

At that time, Fu Qiran was weak, and going to the hunting ground was his only choice.

Those who enter the hunting grounds seem to be burdened with the joys and sorrows unique to human beings.

Those joys and sorrows are not the same, nor interlinked.

Taken out alone, it will be an epic story.

But those people were still buried in that forest.

Chase, hunt, intrigue, ambition.

Those dramas staged in the hunting grounds seem to be human farces.

At that time, Fu Qiran, dragging his broken body, shuttled among the trees.

The dangers in the wild are not only those enemies with ulterior motives, not only those extremely ferocious beasts, but also the harsh living environment.

Most of the food in the forest has parasites. Fu Qiran is very poisonous, and if he is not careful, he may die.

During the chase, Fu Qiran, who had been hungry for three days and three nights, no longer had any light in his eyes.

Death approached him.

He seemed to be able to hear his heart beating slowly, getting slower and slower.

There was a blur in front of his eyes, and the next moment, he was about to fall into the boundless darkness.

At that moment, he saw a flower.

It was pink and tender, obviously surrounded by tall trees and green grass, but that touch of pink still hit his eyes.

He ran over, squatted down, flicked lightly, and under the little tender flower was a piece of bread.

Fluffy, sweet bread.

His eyes lit up, his longing for life made him forget how unreasonable the bread came.

He wolfed it down, as if grasping at the hope of life.

During the month he stayed in the hunting ground, he would always see that little flower whenever he was in desperate situation.

The little flower is very fragile, as if it will fall if the wind blows.

The petals with only three petals are crumbling, and the petals will be broken into powder with a slight pinch.

But under the delicate little flowers, there are always some weird things.

A bottle of clean water, a piece of soft bread, a piece of beef jerky that is a little dry but can provide energy, or, a piece of anti-inflammatory medicine, a knife.

It was those things that supported him to walk out of the hunting ground and became the only one who survived that year.

He got the status and money he wanted.

But a year later, he designed the owner of the hunting ground and regained the hunting ground.

After that, he re-entered the hunting grounds to look for the delicate little flowers.

No, nothing.

There are no delicate florets, and there is no trace of breaded beef jerky.

He searched for a long time, even leveled the hunting ground, but found nothing.

Later, the doctor told him that he may have fabricated an illusion for himself under extreme danger but with a strong desire to survive.

That delicate and tender little flower is the support point in his illusion.

When he no longer needs it, it disappears.

(End of this chapter)

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