The forest path narrowed as they walked deeper in.
Leaves crunched softly beneath their feet, the night air thick with damp earth and rain-soaked wood. Meilin was just about to say something—anything, to break the strange quiet between them—
When the shadows moved.
A sharp glint flashed in the dark.
Meilin felt danger before she saw it.
"Meilin—!"
Zihan reacted faster than thought.
A man lunged from the shadows, knife aimed straight at her chest. Zihan stepped in without hesitation, twisting his body and pulling her back against him. The blade missed her by inches—but sliced across his palm instead.
Blood spilled instantly.
"Zihan!" Meilin's breath caught.
The attacker didn't stop. Two more figures rushed in, blades flashing in the darkness.
Something in Meilin snapped.
Her eyes hardened, her body moving on pure instinct.
She struck.
A sharp kick to the knee. A palm strike to the throat. She didn't hold back—every move precise, ruthless, born from memories of another life filled with blood and survival. One attacker staggered back with a cry.
Zihan clenched his teeth, ignoring the burning pain in his hand, and joined her. He grabbed a branch from the ground, swinging it hard into another man's shoulder, knocking him off balance.
In the chaos, Meilin snatched a knife from a fallen attacker's grip.
The cold weight of it felt familiar in her hand.
She didn't hesitate.
A clean slash across an arm. A thrust that forced another man to retreat.
"Retreat!" someone shouted in panic.
But in the darkness, panic made everything worse.
Meilin and zihan ran.
Not toward the path—but deeper into the forest.
Meilin grabbed Zihan's wrist. "This way!"
Branches whipped past them as they ran blindly through the undergrowth, breaths ragged, hearts pounding. Shouts echoed behind them—heavy footsteps, curses, the sound of men giving chase.
They missed the main trail entirely.
The forest grew denser, darker.
Just when Meilin felt her lungs burn, she spotted it—a narrow rock opening half-hidden by vines and fallen branches.
"A cave," she whispered urgently.
They slipped inside just as footsteps thundered past outside.
The cave swallowed them whole.
—
Inside, darkness pressed in from all sides.
Only then did Zihan stagger.
His steps faltered, his breath suddenly uneven. He braced a hand against the rock wall, sweat breaking out across his forehead.
Meilin turned sharply. "Zihan?"
His face had gone pale.
Too pale.
Her heart sank.
The poison.
It was acting up again.
She caught him before he fell, guiding him carefully to the ground. "Sit. No—lie down."
"I'm… fine," he muttered, but his voice lacked strength.
She didn't argue.
She reached for the locket at her neck, fingers trembling slightly as she opened it. Inside, hidden carefully, was a small pill—dull-colored, unremarkable to anyone else.
A stabilising pill.
Something she had prepared long ago… just in case.
She placed it against his lips. "Swallow this."
He looked at her, confused but trusting, and did as she said.
Only then did she let out the breath she had been holding.
She took his phone from his pocket, hands quick, dialing Yan's number.
No signal.
Again.
Nothing.
Her jaw tightened.
She glanced at his hand. Blood still seeped steadily from the cut across his palm.
I can't leave this untreated.
She tore a strip from the inside lining of her jacket, wrapping it firmly around his wound to slow the bleeding. It wasn't perfect—but it would have to do.
"Stay here," she said softly, brushing damp hair from her face. "Don't move. No matter what you hear."
"What are you doing?" he asked weakly.
"Protecting you," she replied simply.
She moved to the cave entrance, carefully pulling vines and loose branches across it, disguising the opening as best she could. Then, without hesitation, she slipped back out into the forest.
Into the darkness.
Barefoot in slippers. Dressed only in pajamas and a thin jacket.
Her eyes were cold now.
If they were still searching…
She would make sure they never found this place.