So they met the Marquis Zhongshan.
This man was naked, seated confidently on the couch, holding two mutilated corpses with open chests in his arms, a pile of torn limbs scattered at his bedside, his feet upon four or five crushed human heads, his belly covered with a mess of blood and flesh, with pink intestines draped over his shoulders like a mantle of silken immortality.
On closer inspection, amidst the flesh and blood, his figure was over eight feet tall, with an ape's waist, a bear's back, tiger's whiskers, and wolf's jaws, sharp teeth, gray scales, white eyes and green pupils, in which two dazzling green lights flashed, casting a three-foot beam of light in the dim tent, like some demon dragon curled up in a cave.
