Chapter 113: Great Serpent, No Matter What You Intend, You Shall Not Succeed!

The night breeze gently stirred the trees, causing their branches to sway softly. Resting upon one of those branches were Qin Feng and his companions. Qin Feng was circulating the cultivation technique imparted to him by the old man Qin, rapidly recuperating. In a half-conscious haze, he sensed something crawling upon him. Exhausted as he was, he did not open his eyes nor paid it much heed.

Yet faintly, he felt a tremendous aura of danger, as if something was crawling on his body. After a while, Qin Feng realized the creature had not left but had climbed onto his face, damp and cold. Instantly, he awoke. His experience growing up in the wilderness taught him one thing: at such a moment, any movement would be perilous.

Holding his breath and remaining perfectly still, Qin Feng compelled himself to stay calm. He carefully sensed the creature and discerned it was a large snake. After some time, he slowly opened his eyes and, aided by the dim moonlight, beheld a massive serpent, about the thickness of an adult’s foot and five or six meters long, coiled around a sturdy tree branch. Its upper body was wrapped around his neck, then gradually slithered down his back.

Qin Feng felt a surge of relief that he had not moved. Had he stirred, the enormous snake would have surely attacked without hesitation. That would have placed him in grave danger.

“How close that was... I wonder what kind of snake this is,” he thought silently, still acutely aware of the peril he faced with the serpent constricting his neck.

He could not discern whether the snake was venomous. Its head was partially obscured, and the darkness of night made it difficult to identify. The snake’s body was yellow, adorned with black and white patterns. It writhed slowly, its damp, icy scales sending chills down one’s spine. The sight was terrifying—any timid soul would likely have broken down in fear or fled in panic.

In the quiet depths of the jungle, atop a lush canopy, anyone targeted by a giant snake would be seized by terror. Even Qin Feng, who had lived in the wild since childhood and possessed the heart of a bear and the courage of a leopard, felt his scalp prickle with dread. A chilling aura enveloped him, and uncertainty gnawed at his mind—was this a venomous snake? His life could be in imminent danger.

“Stay calm. The more dangerous it is, the more composed I must remain,” Qin Feng urged himself. He knew that only through calmness could he devise a way to counter this threat and resolve the crisis.

He kept his gaze steady, his body motionless, and his breath held. Until he could determine whether the snake was poisonous, rash action was out of the question. Playing dead was his only hope—to deceive the serpent into thinking he was lifeless and thus encourage it to depart.

But the snake showed no sign of leaving. Its cold eyes fixed upon Qin Feng with an unsettling interest. Its body twisted unnaturally as its head slithered above Qin Feng’s, flicking its tongue and drawing close with its nose. The coils around Qin Feng tightened as if the snake intended to strangle him to death, regarding him as prey.

A wave of terror surged through Qin Feng’s heart. The silent night and the constriction around his neck made the situation perilous beyond words. Whether venomous or not, the snake’s presence was a threat to his life. If it wasn’t poisonous, perhaps he still had a chance to fight back.

Meanwhile, the snow leopard on the ground stood watch, oblivious to the drama unfolding above. It scanned its surroundings but was unaware of the danger Qin Feng faced in the treetops.

Qin Feng clenched his breath tightly, unwilling to move. His face flushed red from holding his breath, and discomfort gnawed at him, but he reminded himself to remain calm. Danger demanded composure. He envisioned himself as part of the forest, blending seamlessly with the branches, enduring the snake’s crawling in hopes it would lose interest and depart swiftly.

“Snake, please leave quickly. I’m not tasty,” Qin Feng thought desperately.

An ordinary person, ensnared by such a giant snake, would likely scream in terror, provoking the snake to attack immediately. That would be a death sentence.

Though Qin Feng’s heart pounded with anxiety and fear, he kept his wits about him. Panic would be fatal now.

“I must wait for the right moment,” he resolved. His right hand gripped his military dagger tightly, ready to strike at any opportunity.

After a long while, the snake, sensing Qin Feng’s size but finding no easy meal, began to crawl down the tree branch. Yet, after about a meter, it abruptly turned and stared coldly at Qin Feng again. Its eyes gleamed with a chilling light, and it seemed to reconsider, now perceiving him as a worthy prey that could nourish and enlarge its body.

“What kind of snake is this? It feels like it’s toying with me,” Qin Feng thought, on the verge of despair. The serpent appeared cunning, neither fully committed to attack nor willing to leave, its icy aura suffocating. The chill was so intense it felt as if he were trapped inside an ancient glacier.

“Snake, no matter what you intend, you won’t succeed,” Qin Feng vowed silently. He continued to hold his breath and remain still, feigning death, hoping that the snake would lose interest and slither away, granting him his precious survival.